My 19-year-old self and my continued love of the simple: My wonder with Michael bruit

There are moments in every designer’s journey when something just clicks—when you come across a piece of work or a philosophy that feels so fundamentally right that it reshapes your entire way of thinking. For me, that moment came at 19, when I first discovered the work of Michael Bierut.

At that time, I was a university student, still finding my footing in the world of graphic design. I was eager, overwhelmed, and full of conflicting ideas. Design felt massive and intimidating—there were grids and typefaces, motion graphics, branding systems, and a sea of information that seemed impossible to tame. And then, I found Bierut.

Discovering Bierut’s Simplicity

For those unfamiliar, Michael Bierut is a graphic designer with an incredible knack for distilling complexity into something strikingly simple. A long-time partner at Pentagram, his work spans branding, editorial, and environmental design, always with an emphasis on clarity and impact. His designs aren’t flashy for the sake of being flashy; they serve a function while being aesthetically compelling. They whisper rather than shout, but you still hear them loud and clear.

I remember poring over his projects, realising that good design isn’t about excessive ornamentation—it’s about the right choices. His work had an economy of elements, but that never made it feel lacking. In fact, it made it feel essential.

The Magic of Simple, Effective Design

One of the first pieces I truly obsessed over was his work on the wayfinding system for Manhattan. Manhattan—arguably one of the most chaotic places on Earth—somehow became readable through his design choices. Through typography, icons, and the simplest of visual cues, he created a system that made navigating the urban jungle almost intuitive. Before this, I hadn’t given much thought to wayfinding design. But here was a perfect example of how design could serve people in their everyday lives, quietly guiding them without demanding their attention.

His work made me realise that simplicity isn’t just about minimalism—it’s about clarity. Bierut’s designs never feel sterile or stripped back for the sake of aesthetic restraint; they feel precise. Every element is justified, every decision intentional.

Applying This to My Own Work

Inspired by his philosophy, I started to strip my own work down. I’d always had the tendency to over-design—to add unnecessary textures, extra colours, or additional type just because I could. But suddenly, I found myself asking: Does this need to be here? I started seeing the beauty in white space, the impact of a single bold typographic choice, and the confidence in restraint.

I remember tackling a university project—a poster for a campus event. Before my ‘Bierut awakening,’ I might have layered the design with gradients, patterns, and busy graphics. But this time, I focused on one bold typographic element and let the message speak for itself. It felt powerful. It felt effortless. And for the first time, I truly got it.

The Legacy of Good Design

As I continued my studies, Bierut’s work remained a guiding light. I revisited his book How to countless times, always finding something new in its pages. His philosophy—rooted in wit, clarity, and function—became a benchmark for what I aspired to create.

Even now, after years of working in design, I find myself returning to those lessons. The ability to make something clear, memorable, and impactful with as little as possible is something I strive for in every project.

Bierut taught me that good design isn’t about complexity—it’s about purpose. And sometimes, the simplest designs are the ones that leave the biggest impact.