A Faux Physical

It wasn’t until much, much later that I realized that when the iPhone launched in 2007, its app icons were designed to look like real-life objects. I must admit, (and, as a designer, this is a bit embarrassing), I don’t think I truly noticed this until I started writing this article. These icons represented functions we already recognized and understood. 

Actually, I noticed this design approach while watching the movie BlackBerry ¹ (a product we touched on in the brand article). There was this clear attempt to recreate the tactile feel and sound of the keyboard, but through a touchscreen. You could sense how emotionally tied the character of Mike Lazaridis was to the BlackBerry keyboard. He just couldn’t let go of what had once been a game-changing invention. It felt like a big part of his identity that he was being forced to erase. Instead, he reimagined the iconic keyboard within the screen. That was such a meta move!

If we look back at how technology evolved, we can see a recurring pattern: When something new comes along, its visual language often mirrors the old. Like how early electric bulbs were shaped like candle flames.  This design approach is known as skeuomorphism. It began as a way to make new technologies feel more approachable by imitating the look and feel of familiar, traditional objects. ²

In previous articles, we talked about how people are more drawn to experiences and products that find the right balance between novelty and familiarity – that sweet spot. When that balance is established, people are more likely to accept and engage with something new, whether it’s a product, service, or experience. It makes total sense that skeuomorphism is used as one tool to help introduce new technologies to the world. In this article, we’ll look deeper into the psychology, comprehension, performance, and preference behind skeuomorphism in digital design.

Signaling for the right action

In psychology, there is a term called affordance, coined by American psychologist James J. Gibson. He defined it as “a specific combination of the properties of its substance and its surfaces taken with reference to an animal” ³. Basically, affordance refers to the possibility of action. It’s about the relationship between an object and a person. In other words, it's what the environment offers an individual in terms of what they can do with it.

For example, when you see a door you want to open, you instinctively raise your arm, reach for the handle, and push it down or turn the knob (depending on the design). You usually don’t need a sign that says, “This is a door knob: raise your arm, grip it, and turn to open.” You just know. It feels obvious. Your body responds: “Okay, this is something I grab or turn to get through”.

“An affordance is a relationship between the properties of an object and the capabilities of the agent that determine just how the object could possibly be used.” — Don Norman ⁴

This interplay between the object and the person is not only crucial for understanding what action the object enables, but also whether the person can perform that action. For example, if a doorknob is placed 95 cm high, a one-year-old toddler may understand that the knob should be turned, but they wouldn’t be able to open the door due to their physical limitations. This highlights the importance of knowing your target audience when designing for them. Design choices should be tailored to the specific capabilities and needs of the users.

So, affordance is the fact that the door can open. Perceived affordance, however, is what the design communicates ⁵: the shape of the knob suggests it can be turned. It’s your first instinct about how the object is likely to function. Perceived affordance was distinguished from actual affordance by Don Norman, known as the "Father of User Experience". He also introduced the concept of signifiers in design⁶. Sometimes, the perceived affordance doesn’t quite match the actual affordance – that’s where the signifier comes in. A signifier is a design cue (visual, auditory, motion-based, or another sensory signal) that helps reassure or correct your perceived affordance, guiding your actions. For example, if a door knob is round, you might see a small arrow above it, pointing clockwise, reassuring you that this is the right direction to turn to open the door.

These days, when you see a door in a video game or on a website, you instinctively want to click it to see what’s behind it. It might also remind you of those birthday cards you’d get from your aunt or uncle. You click on the doorknob, and the door opens with confetti and a dancing character with a cut-out of your face singing “Happy Birthday”. The point is, the physical action of turning the knob has been replaced by a simple click.

The reason affordances, perceived affordances, and signifiers matter when understanding skeuomorphism in the digital world is that skeuomorphism uses design elements that resemble real-world objects. This makes digital interfaces more relatable by drawing on familiar visual and functional cues. By mirroring the appearance, texture, and behavior of physical objects, users can intuitively understand how to interact with them. It taps into existing mental models, so users don’t have to learn entirely new concepts or functions – saving mental effort and time. That way, they can focus on what really matters, like exploring new features, engaging with content, or making decisions. This not only improves the user experience and makes the interface more intuitive, but also aligns with, for example, an app’s business goals. For businesses, this smooth interaction means less friction, faster adoption, and ultimately, higher user satisfaction and business growth. 

More details, more problems?

There are many reasons why skeuomorphism can be useful as a transitional design tool that helps make a new function or meaning feel familiar. But like anything, it has its pros and cons. In today’s digital world, applying skeuomorphism across an entire service or product (with the possible exception of some video games, VR, or AR) can feel visually noisy, with the textures, shadows, and colours all competing for attention. It can also increase cognitive load, making it harder to navigate and distinguish between elements like buttons, backgrounds, and input fields, essentially working against the isolation effect, where clear visual contrast helps elements stand out.

I remember when I tried to design a webpage as a 19-year-old intern (back in 2005). I was obsessed with illustration and effects – maybe a bit too much. At the time, we were designing websites with wallpaper-like backgrounds and text boxes with drop shadows and glossy overlays. It’s been a while since I stumbled upon a website in that style. Anyway, as technology evolved, with the introduction of the smartphone, those websites either became obsolete or had to be redesigned to work across devices. So beyond being cluttered or difficult to navigate, skeuomorphic design (depending on how it is used) can also be limiting in terms of adaptability.

One angle worth highlighting is how different age groups respond to design in terms of familiarity and performance. A study by Urbano, Guerreiro, and Nicolau (2020) explored this, comparing how younger and older adults perceive and perform with three design styles: skeuomorphism, skeuominimalism, and flat design. They tested 20 young adults and 20 older adults, measuring both usability and aesthetic preference. They found that participants in both groups were generally slower and made more errors using flat design in the three tasks that they were given – visual search, clicking, and multi-page navigation. This gap was much more noticeable among older adults, who took nearly twice as long to complete visual search tasks with flat design compared to skeuomorphic ones ⁷. In fact, skeuomorphic interfaces helped close the performance gap between age groups. 

So, if you’re designing for a wide range of people, using skeuomorphic elements can help make things easier for everyone to use. However, in terms of aesthetic preference, younger participants saw skeuomorph interfaces as complex and rough, and leaned toward skeuominimalism ⁸. Once again, it all comes down to knowing your audience.

Last but not least, our social and cultural experiences can influence how we perceive skeuomorphic elements. In a way, skeuomorphism brings us back to our humanity – our race, age, beliefs, religion, and all the social layers we carry. Real-world metaphors that were once obvious can lose meaning across generations, like the floppy disk icon for “save”, or the rotary phone for “call”. Younger users might not relate to those at all. I actually saw a post on Instagram where someone from the Boomer generation and someone from Gen Z were asked to do a hand gesture for “pick up the phone“ and “hang up“. It instantly made me think of the floppy disk save icon, which is probably unfamiliar to many in the younger generations.

There’s also the risk that a highly detailed skeuomorphic icon might unintentionally include symbols with deep religious or cultural meaning. In some cases, these symbols can be seen as offensive. That level of detail can leave more room for missteps. In comparison, flat design may carry a lower risk of cultural insensitivity, simply because it’s less detailed.

In short, yes – skeuomorphism can boost performance, especially for older users, by making interactions feel more intuitive and easier to understand. But it has its downsides: visual clutter, cognitive load, and limited adaptability across screen sizes. It’s also (again) crucial to consider the cultural and generational context (among other factors) of the audience you’re designing for.

Nostalgia has its moments

In the end, skeuomorphism isn’t just about making things look pretty or nostalgic. It’s about helping people feel comfortable with something new. It plays an important role in how we understand, interact with, and even trust digital products, especially when the products are unfamiliar. Sure, it has its downsides but when used thoughtfully and in the right context, it can bridge gaps across age, experience, and even culture. Skeuomorphism brings the familiar into the novel, and when the novel becomes familiar, maybe, just maybe, skeuomorphism has done its job, and it’s time to move on. Of course, this again depends on knowing your audience, as any design approach should be intentional, empathetic, and context-aware.