You live in a country. Your country has created a symbol for itself, and by association, you.
That symbol is their flag. Your country thinks so highly of this symbol that they likely require it to be displayed atop a high perch at many government buildings, to ensure it is visible far and wide to the very people it represents.
There would seem to be very little utility for such an act from a practical standpoint. Almost no one is using that symbol to determine what country they are in when they walk outside in the morning.
There is a meaningful function to this act: propaganda. Primarily, it conveys power to the populace it flies over, which inspires emotions.
In some places, people believe their country’s power is being used to support and defend freedom. The emotions inspired are probably pride and unity.
In other places where freedoms are few and power is wielded by tyrannical leaders, the intended emotions to be inspired are likely submission and cooperation.
However, in both of those kinds of places, there are people who interpret that symbol differently. This results in the inspiration of vastly different and likely contradicting emotions; shame and division or insurgency and rebellion.
Likewise, using a symbol for a country in one of the many situations where it is meant to be viewed by other countries and their citizens will subject it to a wider diversity of interpretations and inspired emotions. Your nation’s embassy and the flag it flies will encounter very different receptions in an allied country versus one with a tense relationship.
If this function is guaranteed to be found at the country level, it is surely mirrored in smaller groups, right?
To some degree, yes. For organizations and bodies of people who have a shared symbol to represent themselves, they will find themselves in similar situations. Groups without widespread support for their actions may find hostility from those who encounter their symbol. Think the USA Democrats’ donkey and Republicans’ elephant.
The trouble comes when no such symbol exists, or the symbol is so weak that it cannot sufficiently capture mental relevancy to the group it represents outside of that group. This is often exasperated by a lack of adoption within the group’s membership itself due to the same weakness.
In the United States, nearly all 50 states have both problems with their symbol. Perhaps a handful have flags have been elevated for one reason or another. Texas has an elegant design that looks like a simplification of the US flag, while California’s flag is messy but features a recognizable bear that has been adopted and spread by many of its residents and companies.
Further still, many counties and cities have their own symbol. It is often odd to compare and contrast the power and relevancy of different levels of hierarchical flag territories.
For example, the Illinois flag is a hot mess. It’s just their complicated state seal placed on a white background and “Illinois” at the bottom. You would be hard pressed to find it flown anywhere but government buildings, and tough to purchase an item displaying it outside of an airport gift shop.
Chicago, however, has an elegant flag design that has become ubiquitous in their city. Patches adorn many residents’ bags and jackets, many gas stations fly it beneath the US flag, and it can even be used as the casket covering in first responders’ funerals.
Flag experts (vexillologists) point to a short list of rules for a “good flag design”, and most of them address visual appeal and ease of recognition of the flag’s elements from a distance.
Only one rule relates to symbology, the idea of making the flag’s elements mean something. Chicago has four red stars on its flag, but the things they represent have been largely forgotten or mean far less now than when the design was created. And much like the US flag, the stars could have just as easily been circles or diamonds or hexagons.
What’s interesting though, is nearly all of the state and city flags have symbology in their design, even those created more recently, after one could observe the “meaning becomes meaningless” phenomenon among good flags.
Lots and lots of flags rely on a state or city seal, which already incorporate symbology, while others are more abstract in nature.
If we know the symbology eventually loses importance if the flag establishes relevancy and achieves longevity, why keep trying to incorporate that kind of meaning? And why are the symbols with that symbology so widely adopted?
I have a theory that symbology is only actually important to one group of people: those who actually sign off on the adoption of the symbol. They are probably in a representative role themselves, as an elected official, or someone appointed by an elected official. So endorsing the existence of something meant to also represent something is easier to justify. It provides the necessary filler language to explain why things on the flag are as they are. The designer uses those words to present the design to that official, and they use them to present to their colleagues or boss, and they use them to present it to their constituents.
This kind of bullshitting is a valuable tool to have, and one I am actually gifted in. But that usually only serves to elevate bad ideas and bad people. It’s when you aren’t actually bullshitting, when you don’t have to use elegant explanations to mask shitty work, that you have something special.
Besides the whole “what is representing you” and “how is that representation interpreted by others” point, I say all that to say this: Tomorrow, I am going to show you my ideas for a better Nevada flag, and a better Las Vegas flag. I hope you like them.
