UXhale
It’s OK to touch

Minimalism advocates for functional clarity without decoration. These principles have extended to software and hardware design, emphasizing efficiency and simplicity, especially in resource-constrained systems¹. The proliferation of screens has "inhaled" user experience by consolidating controls into single devices, often at the expense of tactile feedback and intuitive feel. In 2007, the release of the iPhone and its skeuomorphic² operating system helped revolutionize touchscreen user interfaces by bridging the gap between physical and digital interaction—especially when touchscreens were still unfamiliar—creating a sense of realism in digital controls.

Over time, our interactions with technology have collapsed into a single, increasingly invisible experience. We carry a camera, a calendar, a map, music, and even the world’s knowledge in our pockets. All of it is accessed through a dynamic, touch-based interface, tapped, swiped, and pinched to meet us where we are.

Interfaces that once mimicked real-world objects were flattened into minimalist icons—now, in many cases, are being reduced to mere prompts for an AI assistant. By Dieter Rams’ standards, today's invisible interfaces fulfill many of the criteria of good design, especially in their usefulness, innovation, and unobtrusiveness. But they fall short where it matters most: clarity, honesty, and control. When an interface becomes invisible, it risks not being understood. And that, arguably, makes it not good design at all.

Physical controls are more satisfying when precision, immediacy, and feedback matter. Adjusting the temperature of a vehicle mid-drive through a touchscreen introduces unnecessary friction—but it’s not always a call for a return to knobs. A reliable voice assistant could offer the same immediacy and focus without requiring the driver to take their eyes off the road. Physical controls aren’t inherently better—we just notice their absence when the alternative isn’t trustworthy.

I drive an automatic transmission vehicle. It took some convincing, but it offers a more comfortable experience during traffic-heavy commutes. Still, I miss the kind of romance and joy you feel when driving with a manual stick. There’s an intimacy between human and machine that comes from direct, tactile input and feedback.

Apple has introduced new physical buttons to recent iPhones, such as the Action Button and a dedicated camera control in the iPhone 15 Pro. Appliance manufacturers are reintroducing tactile knobs for ovens, stoves, and washing machines, after touch panels proved less intuitive. After significant customer criticism, automakers are bringing back physical controls for key functions like volume, climate, and hazard lights. Volkswagen has committed to this shift, with design leadership openly acknowledging the misstep of removing buttons in favor of touchscreens³.

These are not nostalgic gestures but practical responses to real usability and safety concerns supported by longstanding design theory. Minimalism should respect context. Good design isn’t just about hiding complexity—it’s about orchestrating it.

The future of user experience isn’t invisible. It’s not whispering—or shouting in frustration—at a hyper-realistic AI voice to order dinner, call a ride, or make a purchase. Interaction is becoming modular and context-aware. Screens, voice assistants, gesture controls, and physical buttons can—and should—coexist, each activated by what the moment demands: tactile controls for precision and immediacy, screens that adapt to complexity, and voice interfaces for hands-free convenience.

After all, UX has inhaled long enough. It’s okay to exhale—to design not just for minimalism but clarity, control, and joy.