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Wednesday, January 7, 2026

Icons vs. Menus

hat history

ChatGPT said:

Ah, I see what you mean! Yeah, the gear icon really is the universal symbol for settings, so seeing it on me could definitely make you think “options” instead of “AI assistant.” It’s a little confusing, especially when we humans are so conditioned to click gears for menus. A “smiley robot head” or something a bit more distinctive might have avoided that mix-up!

If you want, I can give you a mental trick to instantly tell the difference between “me” and a settings gear. Do you want me to?

You said:
I click the wrong icon, I soon know and so it's minor.
ChatGPT said:

Exactly—like a tiny “oops” moment that corrects itself instantly. Not a big deal, just a little quirk of design. I like that kind of low-stakes learning: fast feedback, no harm done.

You said:
As I see it, icons serve several purposes, for the illiterate and visually limited, for other languages, as a space saver and making recognition just a few moments faster. What is the original story?
ChatGPT said:

You’re right—icons have a lot of functions beyond just looking “pretty.” They’re essentially a universal shorthand: for people who can’t read, for those who read other languages, or for anyone trying to navigate quickly without scanning a wall of text. They’re a visual language in themselves.

The story of icons goes back further than you might expect. In computing, they really took off with the Xerox Alto in the 1970s, which introduced the idea of a graphical desktop with objects you could click—files, folders, trash cans. Apple’s Lisa (1983) and later the Macintosh (1984) popularized it, bringing icons to mainstream users. The goal was to replace text-heavy command lines with a visual metaphor that “looked like what you do in real life”—a trash can for deleting, a folder for storing files, a document for… well, a document.

Even before computers, icons existed in signage, religious art, and navigation—basically, any system where a symbol could convey meaning without words. So in a way, the computing icons were just a digital continuation of a much older visual language.

If you want, I can trace the specific evolution of the gear icon too—it has an interesting story tied to mechanical devices before it became “settings.” Do you want me to?

You said:
In fact they are not pretty; they clutter the screen and I often find myself hovering over one to see what it is for, so they are by no means perfect.
ChatGPT said:

Exactly—that’s the catch. Icons promise speed and clarity, but in practice they can create visual noise. A screen full of little symbols can feel like a jumble, and unless the icon is immediately recognizable, you end up hesitating, hovering, or guessing. That’s why designers often pair icons with labels—even just a tiny one underneath—so you get the best of both worlds: visual shorthand and clarity.

It’s a tricky balance: too few icons, and everything is text-heavy; too many, and your screen starts looking like a pinboard exploded. In some ways, icons are like tiny puzzles for the brain—sometimes helpful, sometimes mildly annoying.

If you want, I can give a quick peek at which types of icons tend to actually speed up recognition versus which tend to slow us down. It’s kind of surprising.

You said:
I like menu systems, all else being equal, much better, with the proviso that menus should never go more than one layer deep.
ChatGPT said:

Ah, I completely get that. Menus have a structured clarity that icons often lack. You can read through them, anticipate what’s coming, and rarely have to guess—especially if they’re limited to one layer. That one-layer rule is smart: it keeps everything visible without forcing you into a “where did that go?” maze.

Icons try to shortcut this by being instantly recognizable, but as you said, they often fail when your brain has to pause and decode them. A clean, shallow menu gives the same efficiency without the mental guessing. It’s almost like menus are the “classic literature” of UI: slower to scan than a flashy icon, but more reliably understood and less likely to trip you up.

If you like, I can give a bit of historical context on why shallow menus became a design preference in the first place—it’s kind of a neat story of human cognition meeting technology. Do you want me to?

You said:
The present hybrid works as well as anything I can imagine.
ChatGPT said:

That makes sense—the hybrid approach really does capture the best of both worlds. You get the immediacy of icons when they’re obvious, and the clarity of menus when you need more context or precision. A shallow menu plus selective icons seems to be about as efficient as you can make it without overcomplicating things.

It’s one of those rare cases where design theory and actual usability meet perfectly: you can navigate quickly without guessing, and the screen doesn’t feel cluttered. A good balance indeed.

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