The Power of _______.

In 1867 something very important happened, the results of which are probably sitting right in front of you. Since the invention of paper, people have been trying to find ways to keep them together…ribbons, straight pins (ouch!), spit, vines, gum and anything else they could scrounge up. Then an American inventor named Samuel B. Fay invented the paperclip. Not only was his design simple and ingenious, the humble paperclip is one of the few technological designs that have remained virtually unchanged over the last 100 plus years. The most common variation on the Fay design that we still see today is the Gem clip (hence the name). Quite a design accomplishment in this day and age when a company logo barely lasts more than 20 years before some marketing executive decides to "rebrand".

Yet, what's most intriguing to me is how the ubiquitous paperclip became a symbol of something far more important than its original design. During World War II, Norwegians wore paperclips to protest the Nazi invasion and demonstrate their sympathy for the Jews, gypsies, homosexuals, and others persecuted by the Nazis. After World War II the Office of Strategic Services (a forerunner to the CIA) even ran a covert operation code named "Paperclip" to bring German Nazi rocket scientists over to the U.S. before the Russians could get them. This powerful little design even inspired students in the small coal mining community of Whitwell, Tennessee to collect over 6 million paperclips in honor of the Jews and others that died at the hands of the Nazi's (don't miss the documentary of their efforts called Paperclips). Can you think of other designs that became powerful symbols for something other than their original intent? How about the cross--originally an instrument of Roman execution, now a symbol of Christianity? Or the swastika? Or a Black Panther?

Symbols in design derive their power through visual representation of real meaning. And that meaning may change through the years depending on how it is used (consider the font Comic Sans, now a symbol of "bad" typography). Most of the work I see designed today (including my own), has little symbolic meaning, nor does it have the power to evoke or provoke strong emotion. It seems to be fluff. A veneer over an artificial surface. But maybe that's the best design can offer until life fills these symbols we create with meaning grounded in experiences (intended or not). So, the next time your designing a logo for what-cha-ma-call-it company, pick up a paperclip and ponder the possibilities.