I’ve always been a very “function over form” type of person. Growing up, I looked at things mostly from the utilitarian perspective, and paid very little attention to the “superficial” aspects, such as aesthetic appearance. I judged backpacks mainly by how comfortable they are and how many pockets they had; I bought easy-to-maintain and waterproof shoes, even if they looked plain and boring; I scoffed at elaborate interior decorations and fixtures, because despite their prettiness, they are impractical. Almost everything was a tool to accomplish something practical to me, and so I did not have room in my utilitarian brain for any consideration of aesthetic beauty.

Over time that started to change. I don’t know if it had to do with growing older, or if it was a result of my increasing disposable income (as arguably it’s difficult to care about aesthetics when budget-constrained), but I gradually began to care more about the appearance of things. It started mostly as a desire to be different. I remember that after seeing a cluster of identical model houses in a suburb, I had very little desire to live in one of them, even though the houses looked clean and functional, because I wanted my home to be unique. I paid attention to aesthetics just to make sure that my belongings are unique and can standout. Things around a person are always somewhat viewed as the natural extensions of their character, and I definitely don’t want to be a mass-produced nobody.

Recently I came across a critique on modern minimalism design that really resonated with me. Despite my increased attentiveness to the “form” (in addition to the “function”), I have not been truly appreciating beauty. I only wanted to appear as unique, but never really immersed myself in the other feelings invoked by beautiful things.

This realization got me to re-examine my previous utilitarianism views. Trying to maximize output for a particular set of quantifiable practical utility metrics inevitably leads to a complete disregard for all the non-practical aspects. Grey, block-shaped buildings with perfectly divided rectangular rooms is what we get when we go down the “function over form” road for optimizing for housing efficiency. I can understand the practical need for this, but at the same time I can’t help but feel a sense that this type of judgement by practical utility alone is devoid of meaning.

The pursuit of “function”, or practical utility maximization, seems to further sink us into the hole of nihilism. Beauty, on the other hand, feels to me like the opposite. To truly appreciate it, we have to immerse ourselves in it, and let the emotional states invoked take over, be it a sense of wonder, sadness, anger, or awe. I’m starting to believe that beauty, the “form”, is one of the few things that can give meaning to our lives. And even if it doesn’t, it certainly makes our pointless existences a little bit easier to bear.