ADAM ENGST 3 January 2026

In the wake of Alan Dye leaving Apple (see “Apple Executive Departures Could Signal Welcome Changes,” 5 December 2025), a linked set of three blog posts by Louie Mantia, Garrett Murray, and Jason Snell argues that Apple “shifted from making products for the rest of us” to “conflating good taste with luxury.”

Louie Mantia started by noting how Apple’s design has increasingly used luxury products as its north star:

There’s no doubt Jony has good taste, by the way. He and his team designed great products during the first half of his tenure at Apple. But as he became wealthier, he started to conflate good taste with luxury. Jony often described Apple products with words about craft, material, and precision, all things that appeal to a luxury market. Apple shifted away from making products “for the rest of us” and started making products that appealed specifically to rich people. Not to put too fine a point on it, but they started making products that appealed to themselves.

Garrett Murray expands on the argument, noting:

Jony Ive spent a decade slowly removing any trace of personality from every product Apple released. Apple went from the original translucent-colored plastic aesthetic of the “Bondi blue” iMac G3 and the Power Mac G3 “Blue & White” to the more refined and unique design of the iMac G4 to… a bunch of aluminum rounded rectangles for decades. Chasing thinness, removing ports, simplifying everything down to metal and glass with no differentiation.

And Jason Snell sums it all up with:

It’s one reason I’m so critical about Ive, his overlong tenure at Apple when he was obviously burned out, and the fatal mistake of placing software design in the clutches of him and his lieutenants: I just get the sense that those designers became untethered from the rest of us, chasing idealized product dreams based on the expensive luxury brands they wore, drove, and otherwise used every day. Not that Apple designs ugly stuff, but there is undoubtedly an antiseptic sameness to a lot of it that smacks of a design team that has disappeared up its own white void.

I had never really thought about how Apple’s design has evolved, but this criticism resonates with me. While I admire Apple’s attention to detail, I’ve felt that the company’s products have become too cold, hard, sharp-edged, and slippery. Liquid Glass reflects the same philosophy applied to digital interfaces—it doesn’t look or act like anything we encounter in the real world. Skeuomorphism can easily be overdone, but real-world objects have color, texture, and cultural meaning.

I loved the playful vibe of the colorful gumdrop iMacs and the feel of the white polycarbonate iBook. When we traveled for the holiday break last month, I took my 14-inch MacBook Pro on its first trip, and although I appreciated having my entire digital life with me, I missed the visual and tactile experience of working with my 13-inch MacBook Air in its vinyl skin (though it too is uncomfortably sharp on my palms). I always use an iPhone case because it protects my iPhone from occasional accidental drops, but also because it lets me override Apple’s minimalist style with my own. I like color. I like texture. And apparently, I like trees.

Apple used to know how to make products with personality. The original iMacs, iBooks, and iPods showed that thoughtful design can be both functional and fun. Remember the original iBook’s handle? Apple isn’t incapable of adding warmth and character to its products—it’s choosing not to.

And that choice reveals a problem with luxury-focused design: it can prioritize the designer’s vision over the user’s experience. I suspect that Apple’s designers would be appalled to see their pristine aluminum and glass sullied by cases, stickers, and skins. Apple made billions by understanding what “the rest of us” wanted. It’s time the company considered that we’re not all chasing the same minimalist luxury aesthetic.