A Cat Among Pigeons
“Pretty pictures can no longer lead the way in which our visual environment should be shaped. It is time to debate, to probe the values, to examine the theories that are part of our heritage and to verify their validity to express our times.” Massimo Vignelli, 1983
Recently, car manufacturer Jaguar (part of JLR: Jaguar Land Rover) teased a new brand direction via social media. The response was typical (for 2024). People were upset about the lack of seeing actual cars and the “woke” imagery, and even went so far as to christen it as the worst brand move of 2024.
While this is unfortunate, I get it. People don’t like new—they like familiar dressed up just enough to feel fresh. This is why every major logo redesign gets initial backlash, only for the same people to forget their outrage a year later when the new mark becomes part of the visual and experiential landscape (e.g., Airbnb, Uber, Slack, etc.) As such, many of today’s critics were focused on holding tightly to Jaguar’s admittedly rich heritage—whether or not they would actually buy one of their cars today.
People cling to the familiar because it feels safe, predictable, and comfortable, while change often feels jarring or unnecessary. And designers should understand this better than anyone. We study human behavior and know that first impressions are rarely about the quality of the design itself but about the discomfort of something different. Yet, we still fall into the trap of reacting emotionally to new logos as if novelty alone equals failure. It’s short-sighted. Great design doesn’t always demand attention on day one—it grows into its role, shaping perception over time. The real test of a brand is not a logo or a teaser film but how the company delivers on its promise holistically and consistently over time.
To get on a soapbox for a minute, watching designers react to new logo designs as if branding exists in a vacuum is always a little exasperating. A company rolls out a logo, and suddenly, the design community turns into a chorus of armchair critics, dissecting typefaces, kerning, and color choices with a tribunal's fervor. But here’s the thing: a logo is never just a logo. It’s a visual expression of strategy, business objectives, and sometimes (most times) internal politics. Yet many designers ignore that context, judging the work on aesthetic merit alone. Did the business pivot into new markets? Will it continue to produce cars? Is it attempting to shed its previous (nay, outdated) perceptions? Did legacy elements constrain the brand? These nuances matter, but they’re often dismissed in favor of snarky hot takes. Yes, critique is essential, but it should be an informed critique that acknowledges the messy, iterative, and often compromise-ridden process that branding entails. Otherwise, it’s just noise from the sidelines, oblivious to the bigger picture…which in this case, was that Jaguar is an ailing brand: it doesn’t need evolution; it needs reinvention.
Designers should know better. We too often forget our lessons when evaluating work. We rush to critique or to offer social media our hot take redesign that took a day with zero business context. If brand hot takes are being designed with no strategy in a matter of hours, how can we ever convince outsiders of design’s true value? We can't afford to be so myopic if we want a seat at the table. Design doesn’t exist in isolation; it thrives in the intersections of business goals, user needs, and cultural relevance. A logo isn’t just a mark—it’s the tip of an iceberg shaped by market research, competitive landscapes, and corporate strategy. If we only focus on surface-level aesthetics, we undermine our credibility. To be taken seriously as strategic partners, we need to engage with the full context, understand the decisions behind the design, and contribute with informed, thoughtful critique. Otherwise, we’ll be seen as decorators, not decision-makers—and that’s a future no designer wants.
Jaguar surely has a tall order ahead of them. I sincerely hope the product and experience can deliver on the expectations set by the promise of ‘copy nothing,’ if nothing else than to prove the critics wrong about brand—again. A category-defining 1000hp car wouldn’t be bad, either.