Tech mascots are the personification of a brand or a company within the technology industry. These mascots often take the form of characters, animals, or objects that represent the values and identity of the brand. They are used to create a sense of familiarity and connection with consumers. One famous example of a tech mascot is the Android robot, which is the mascot for the Android operating system. The Android robot is a green, humanoid character with antennas on its head. This mascot symbolizes the open-source nature of the Android platform and its adaptability to different devices.

Logos and Artworks in the Unix World

Logos and artworks in the Unix world, where do those come from. We’ll try to analyse a bunch of popular Unix mascots and logos.

Throughout my research I could distinct two groups of mascots and logos. Even though it’s not fun to have a binomial vision of the world, black and white, but this is what I found and this is mostly what it is.

Abstract

Before starting let’s state a fact: Most logos/mascots have names.

We mainly have two types of logos, the abstract type of logo and the animal type of logo.

The abstract type is applied to the newest type of logos. There was a sort of transition at some point, which I couldn’t target, where animal logos stopped being popular.

The idea behind those logos are not always obvious, usually fuzzy, maybe even lacking meaning, and you have to do some research to understand the meaning behind them.

It’s abstract so sometimes you can imagine whatever you want.

Some good examples are the Ubuntu logo, a centric circle with other circles around, it represents a group of people holding hands which isn’t that apparent.

The Manjaro logo is also pretty abstract, maybe in the form of an M.

A more discussed one is the Debian logo, which name is the “Swirl”. It’s a simple brush, a GIMP brush to be precise. Debian also have a restricted, aka only for commercial use, type of logo used for CD covers for example. It’s a sort of urn or lamp and the “Swirl” comes out of it, a genie coming out of a lamp.

The Arch Linux logo is kind of abstract but has a meaning behind it. It’s literally an arch — pretty apparent, right?

This is a common pattern, to represent whatever the name of the software or project into a logo or mascot.

There’s a misconception that under the Arch logo lies a big fat man, however that’s just a misconception that can be put aside just by looking into the history of the logo.

The older versions had a differently shaped curved arch, which doesn’t look like the current one. One even has Tux sliding on an arch, and yet another one was an architectural arch with a white rabbit under it — probably a reference to Alice in Wonderland (follow the white rabbit).

Why use an arch? The architecture of an arch is at the same type fragile while solid. If you move one brick it falls but the structure as a whole is solid. Good metaphor for how ArchLinux is a rolling release.

Animals

Talking about animals like the white rabbit brings us to this second category: animals and creatures.

The animal ones are usually older than abstract ones, with deeper and richer history.

Let’s go over some famous ones.

The Linux mascot is quite popular, Tux the penguin. The idea dates back to 1996 during a discussion in the kernel mailing list (KML), so you can guess it was discussed by developers and not designers. Alan Cox was the person who brought the suggestion of having a logo. The first few iterations they made were based on mocking other operating systems. For example there was one that looked like the Windows logo but ended with an L. One had a shark in it, one had an eagle, a lot of animals.

This was a big brainstorm until Linus Torvald mentioned that he liked penguins. It settled it.

Why animals? This makes you wonder the O’Reilly books have the tradition of adding a different animal on all their covers.

Then finally Tux the penguin was born, which was named by a dude called James Hughes. Tux stands for Torvald’s Unix, kind of self-centric.

The mascot was supposed to be chosen via a contest, which there were many, but no one actually won any of those. So the mascot isn’t really official.

The current version we see a lot online was made by Larry Ewing which he made using the first version of GIMP v0.54.

Now let’s talk about GIMP!

That little character in the GIMP icon is their mascot and it’s named Wilber.

It was created in 1997, around the same time as Tux, and drawn by Tuomas Kuosmanen — with GIMP itself.

Let’s move to the GNU mascot.

Same here, not much imagination, a gnu is an animal, a specie of antelope. Maybe Richard Stallman had that in mind when coming up with his project name, but probably not.

There are two versions of the GNU logo, the first one was drawn by Etienne Suvasa, I didn’t find the exact date of its release.

The second one dates back to 2001 and drawn by Peter Gerwinski, it’s a simplified form of the first version.

As with any logo, like the GNU logo, the goal is that if you’re shown the logo alone you can distinctively know what it’s about, what project we’re talking about.

Unlike abstract art that need to be accompanied by their project name to embody a sort of project spirit and soul.

On the same note the FreeBSD mascot has something of the sort.

Don’t be confused because their current logo is an abstracted version of their older one.

The original mascot is called beastie, a distorted pronunciation of BSD. It’s a BSD daemon but literally an evil demon — a play on word. A little red demon holding a pitchfork.

It was drawn by John Lasseter, which used to work at Disney, in 1983 when he met with one of the early BSD developer Sam Leffler. Though historically the mascot idea dates back to way earlier back to 1976 drawn by Phil Foglio as a payment for a locksmith job. (You can look more into that)

Tatsumi Hosokawa drew some new version of the mascot because there were issues with the old one which was thought to be too complex for a logo, was too colorful, and wasn’t unique to the FreeBSD community.

So in 2005 a new logo came out, drawn by Anton Gural, an abstracted version of beastie’s head, you can find it on the FreeBSD official website. It’s a 3D glossy head with horns.

However, it was mentioned that this was a new logo but not a new mascot. FreeBSD wants and will keep beastie as its mascot.

As I mentioned, beastie wasn’t used for FreeBSD only but for many BSDs.

For instance, it was used for OpenBSD.

The current OpenBSD logo and mascot is a pufferfish named Puffy but before that, like other projects, it went through iterations of testings which consisted of versions of beastie. Theo De Raadt assigned Erick Green to design a more special version of it. For BSD 2.3 he was only able to do beastie’s head sort of 3D like, shown on the cover of their CD, and for BSD 2.4 he finished the rest of the body and the pitchfork. The mascot had an added halo over its head to personify the system’s high security.

They settled for Puffy after many iterations, which fits more in the culture, it has spikes representing the intention of OpenBSD. They also include a set of artworks and music for every new OpenBSD release.

Beastie was also used for the Darwin OS but as of 2000 they went for a modified version called Hexley the Platypus. It mimics the BSD daemon by wearing a cap resembling the demon’s horn and carrying a trident.

The name Hexley is a misspelling of the name Thomas Henry Huxley a 19th century English biologist, which was a well known champion of Charles Darwin theory of evolution, nicknamed Darwin’s bulldog’s.

What about Plan9?

Their mascot is also an animal. It’s a little bunny called Glenda, a reference to a movie “Glen or Glenda” which is about sex change and transexuality.

It was designed by one of the Plan9 creator’s wife, Rob Pike’s wife, Renee French.

The name of the OS was also inspired by a movie, Plan 9 from outer space. So it’s not surprising that the mascot is represented with a space helmet. Renee also designed the GO programming language mascot.

Nowadays — Conclusion

What do icons and logos mean nowadays?

More and more persons are interacting with computers it isn’t like the way it was, computer users aren’t just made of a close community of developers or hobbyist. Mascot used to be visual clues that showed you belonged to a certain group but now it is synonym with an icon.

The icon you press on the screen to access a program. Users want and probably need a simple design that can easily be recognized everywhere. This partly explains the flat icon movement.

Moreover, it’s so trendy that there are logos for everything, any event, any incident, anything. Just check the next time there’s an 0day or malware or bugs spreading around. Why are we doing that? Because it’s appealing visually, it catches the eyes of normal users, it means that the public can refer to the thing with just the logo.

Logos and artworks aren’t that meaningful any more in the sense of regrouping individuals, the central point of a group with their norms and mentalities.

So this is it about logos and artworks, hope you enjoyed it.

There’s a lot more history behind all the logos and mascot I mentioned, I just scrapped the tip of the subject, so if you’re interested go out and look for more info and maybe even contribute to the discussion thread.

Attributions

• [email protected] Larry Ewing and The GIMP / CC0
• Третий тайм by Фиорд — http://store.southerncitylab.net/album/--15

If you want to have a more in depth discussion I'm always available by email or irc. We can discuss and argue about what you like and dislike, about new ideas to consider, opinions, etc..
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Tech mascots

The team at Blue Tech works hard each day to provide best-in-class solutions for our customers. So it is up to Max, our newest mascot, to remind us to have fun and get a little play time in each day. In addition to Max, we have several other friends that like to visit us at the office.

Max is the new mascot in town and is leading the charge as our number one office dog.

Max

Luna’s the new kid on the block, and Clover’s not too sure how she feels about it.

Clover and Luna

Mochi the French Bulldog is a bundle of energy and shows no fear in exploring the world around him.

Mochi

Bubbles is one of our staple guests in the Blue Tech office and will be happy to greet you when you visit!

Bubbles

Buster is cuddly and tenacious all wrapped one big ball of goofiness.

Buster

Archi thinks that he is a kid. He enjoys watching kids play. He is calm and lovable, sometimes a bit shy. His fluffy appearance will make you want to squish him!

Archi

Siouxsie is the ever-curious hound always getting into trouble.

Siouxsie

Lil Guy is happiest napping while buried under a warm blanket – he loves to hide. Just watch where you sit!

Lil Guy

Maynard may look soft and cuddly, however, when the lights go down, watch your back! Full of energy and personality, Maynard is a one-of-a-kind feline!

Maynard

His playful character will make you smile, he is one of the happiest dogs on earth. A lot of love in a small package!

Karlito

Vita is scared of her own shadow, and has a particular fondness of carrots and apples.

Vita

Falcor looooves the dirt, and also making trouble. But that combination generally results in warm fuzzy feelings in the hearts of his parents!

Falcor

Blacky’s miniature size will make you love him! He is very playful, mellow and loves to cuddle.

Is It Time to Move on From Big Tech’s Colorful Corporate Mascots?

In 2018, the musician and writer Claire L. Evans began cataloguing examples of an increasingly ubiquitous style of editorial illustration she calls “Corporate Memphis,” a winking reference to the vibrant, patterned abstraction popularized by the Memphis Group in the 1980s. By now you know the style: A woman whooshes past on tiny white roller skates, a periwinkle leg twice the length of her torso arched behind her in a smooth, kneeless parabola. A man strums an indeterminate string instrument—a huge ukulele, perhaps, or a tiny upright bass—clutched at the center of his chest, his arms looping outwards, then back in to form a figure eight across the center of his body. Bright green or orange sleeves give way to pastel hands, reaching for a box or a shelf, holding a cell phone or a birthday cake, a whirlpool of motion around which one’s gaze might eventually settle upon pea-sized faces with ink-dot eyes and sideways parentheses for mouths.

In 2019, I wrote for this website about the same style using the term “Alegria,” after the name a team of Facebook designers gave to its work. At the time, the ambiguously human figures were becoming the illustrated mascots for an increasingly large slice of corporate America, but I was mostly uninterested in prognostication about the future of Corporate Memphis (the term I’ve come to prefer, for its specificity). Either a Crayola legion of giant, noodly limbs would continue to dominate our screens, or they wouldn’t, and I figured only designers and illustrators would really care in either event.

Then something changed. Recently, Corporate Memphis has become a sort of meme, as people lambasting the style plucked the colorful, sinuous figures from their sanguine world and reconfigured them as symbols in a cultural mythology of our own. Posts and images deriding the style began bubbling in social media cauldrons, ricocheting from Twitter to Reddit and to TikTok and back again, finding a larger and more mainstream audience with each iteration. Even when I’m not looking for it, the style’s attendant commentary, critique, and mockery follows me like a salacious rumor across the web (while recently watching a movie trailer, YouTube recommended to me a video essay on the subject that has been viewed more than two million times). “It’s something that was obvious to me, and was being observed by my peers and friends in a light-hearted way, and it’s metastasized in this really interesting way, now,” Evans recently told me over Zoom.

However this memeification might have started, it is no longer really about purple people with big arms. Beyond aesthetic distaste and cyclical design whims, the backlash against Corporate Memphis is the inevitable outcome of a style based on figures meant to communicate inclusivity, cooperation, and equity while serving as the ebullient face for companies that profit off of social atomization and division.

However this memeification might have started, it is no longer really about purple people with big arms.

Understanding the full scale of Corporate Memphis’ downfall requires broadening our scope a bit. Corporate Memphis is the heart of the meme, but in this capacity it seems to serve as a synecdoche for the general design zeitgeist. That zeitgeist, known as flat design, has reigned the world of interfaces for almost a decade, as affably serviceable to dating apps as it is to healthcare startups. Elements of this approach have existed since the days of the mid-early internet, but an entire flat ethos cohered in the very early 2010s, when Google and Microsoft adopted flat-centric operating systems.

Like so many aesthetic reinventions, flat design was born in reaction to foibles of the past. Skeuomorphism—the seminal philosophy of graphical user interface design, whose ecosystem of real-world metaphors like manila folders and trash can icons shepherded generations of people into computer-usership—was unceremoniously discarded after developers began pushing it to the outer limits good taste in the late aughts. Steve Jobs, the most famous skeuomorphism enthusiast, dictated a tacky, maximalist vision for iOS, full of wood-grain facsimile and elaborate, audibly “whooshing” page-turn animations (the calendar app was infamously “bound” with a texture based off of the Corinthian leather inside his private jet). Within two years of Jobs’ death in 2011, Apple joined Google and Microsoft in embracing flat design with iOS7, and skeuomorphism was dragged to the trashcan icon of design history.

Where there’d once been an uncanny valley governed by overwrought approximations of texture and dimension, all that remained was a sparse expanse reminiscent of The Matrix ’s white void. It was at first received as a welcome change; tech media largely heralded the death of skeuomorphism . But as the aesthetic variety of our screens has continued to winnow, interfaces that might have appeared sleek and sophisticated in 2013, today register as sterile and alienating. Corporate Memphis was at least in part born out of the desire to inject color and personality into the pallid landscape of flat design.

But there’s another explanation for flat design’s popularity: It’s cheap to produce. A minimalist calendar simply takes far fewer billable labor hours to develop than an elaborate design with Corinthian leather texture and page-flip animations. Whatever savings accrue from opting for a stylistically simplified design language are rarely passed along to the consumer, or even the designers working on the technology—like all overhead savings, their greatest beneficiaries are usually executives and shareholders. Corporate Memphis is itself a perfect specimen of design austerity: It’s not only minimalist and scalable, but also highly replicable, such that it can be produced in-house or by a variety of different contractors while remaining aesthetically consistent.

Incredibly, there is also an emerging market for apps that sell illustrations to be used by other apps, with subscription-based libraries like Blush charging $15 a month for access to a database of pre-drawn Corporate Memphis illustrations, complete with RPG-style customizable features. By their prefab nature, these illustrations are farcically nonspecific: one Blush entry, titled “Revolution,” depicts a woman standing in front of an assembly of blank protest signs (per different customizations, she can be taking a selfie, raising a fist, or carrying a pennant that reads “Empowered Women Empower Women.”) The need to fill empty space with stock illustration isn’t going away, so it’s not surprising that Blush’s solution is designed to maximize profit through an atomized labor model—in this way, it’s no different from Lyft, Postmates, or Airbnb.

Corporate Memphis was at least in part born out of the desire to inject color and personality into the pallid landscape of flat design.

Corporate Memphis is more than a way to fill empty space, though. It’s also a marketing tool, tasked with selling consumers on the moral worth and social advantageousness of Big Tech with a fun, cheerful facade. It’s no coincidence that Corporate Memphis tableaus emphasize community and cooperation, nor is it incidental that the figures usually have non-flesh skin tones. They are portraits of a post-racial, harmonious, equitable society—a vision that one might then associate with the innovations of Facebook, Google, Uber, or whatever other company deploys the illustrations.

“Revolution” llustration by Isabela Humphery, via Blush.

This is the source of Corporate Memphis’ biggest tension: While these companies market an idealistic vision of the future, the byproduct of their primary pursuits involve bludgeoning what remains of organized labor in America (see: Uber et al’s $200 million Prop 22 campaign in California ), producing tools for state and corporate surveillance used disproportionately against Black and brown people , and wreaking havoc on the environment. But the Corporate Memphians—and by extension you—don’t need to think about that. They’re simply too busy roller skating and playing ukulele. “It feels extra cruel and weird in our current moment,” says Evans, “because it’s sort of selling itself to us in this way that makes us feel like whenever the platform fails us, which it does frequently and spectacularly, that it’s somehow our fault because we don’t fit into this storybook world that the imagery is selling us.”

While these companies market an idealistic vision of the future, the byproduct of their primary pursuits involve bludgeoning what remains of organized labor in America.

Perhaps this kind of agitprop could prove successful on a smaller scale. But Corporate Memphis is so ubiquitous and stylistically unsubtle that it was only a matter of time before users collectively took offense to being objects of condescension. Simple indignation goes a long way toward explaining the backlash—you don’t have to be a strident anticapitalist to realize that Big Tech isn’t actually a force for social good, and Corporate Memphis’ attempt to convince consumers otherwise is simply too hamfisted to be effective.

But while much of the broader disdain for Corporate Memphis is engendered by perceived hypocrisy, the mere idea of valuing inclusivity is enough to provoke certain people. Before the backlash went mainstream earlier this year, it was already a topic of discussion among a corner of the internet connected by neoreactionary politics, whose denizens include “ironically” racist trolls and committed white nationalists. Through the lens of their worldview, Corporate Memphis—commonly referred to among this milieu as “Globohomo Art,”—serves as propaganda to push multiculturalism and gender non-conformity onto an unsuspecting public. This self described “right-wing design squad” is waging small-scale “guerilla meme warfare” by creating bigoted, violent, or otherwise shocking images drawn in the Corporate Memphis style. The astroturf hews aesthetically close to Corporate Memphis, with the goal of accelerating public disaffection with it while implanting an association between the style and vile, offensive imagery.

Racist image-board warriors have little chance of turning the tide on Corporate Memphis alone, but the trend’s broader memeification represents a saturation point from which it likely cannot return unchanged. The stylistic landscape around it is changing, too: In the past two years, skeuomorphism has become an object of nostalgia against the backdrop of unyielding flat design, and major tech companies like Apple have subsequently reintroduced elements of what is now being called “neumorphism .” Between this cyclical sea change and the current flurry of mockery directed at it, Corporate Memphis will likely be reinvented for the sake of aesthetic consistency, or disappear altogether as companies embrace a new unified way to market tech dystopia.

I think it’s more likely to evolve into something unrecognizable: less whimsical, less aseptic; more surreal, more self-aware.

Maybe Big Tech’s next house style will share some commonalities with Corporate Memphis, but I think it’s more likely to evolve into something unrecognizable: less whimsical, less aseptic; more surreal, more self-aware. In a recent Substack entry , writer Samatha Culp predicted artists including Sadamasa Motonaga , Awazu Kiyoshi , and Friedensreich Hundertwasser would influence the post-Corporate Memphis aesthetic, noting that “[o]ur eyes want to pull our flesh to touch the textures we can’t feel through a screen.” And last month, anthropologist Justin Pickard created an are.na board titled “After Corporate Memphis ,” bringing curation of the style full circle. But as Corporate Memphis fades away, its modes of production will remain intact. Apps like Blush will almost certainly outlive the style they were created to produce, pivoting to whatever aesthetic fad comes next while maintaining a business model by which artists earn an ever-decreasing scrap of what their work is worth. Illustration systems will likely become even more scalable, more replicable, more ruthlessly streamlined for the sake of interchangeability. And like its progenitor, the next Corporate Memphis will be carefully optimized to tell a story about the nature of Big Tech—and that story will be fiction.

This mascot symbolizes the open-source nature of the Android platform and its adaptability to different devices. Another well-known tech mascot is the Twitter bird, which is the logo for the social media platform Twitter. The Twitter bird is a blue bird with a simple and recognizable design.

It represents the concept of tweeting and spreading messages quickly and easily. Tech mascots are often created to be cute, friendly, and approachable. They help to humanize technology brands and make them more relatable to consumers. These mascots can be found in advertising, product packaging, and even as physical plush toys or collectibles. In addition to enhancing brand recognition, tech mascots can also serve as brand ambassadors, interacting with consumers on social media or at events. They can be used to convey messages, promote new products or features, and engage with fans and followers. While some tech mascots are specific to a particular brand, there are also mascots that represent broader concepts or industries. For example, the Wi-Fi symbol, which is universally recognized as a series of curved lines, is often used as a mascot for wireless connectivity. Overall, tech mascots play an important role in marketing and branding within the technology industry. They help to establish a distinctive identity for a brand, improve brand loyalty, and create a memorable image that consumers can associate with the company or product..

Reviews for "The Role of Tech Mascots in Building Trust and Reliability for Consumers"

1. Jane - ★★☆☆☆

I found the use of tech mascots rather annoying and unnecessary. It felt like a desperate attempt to make their products or services more appealing, but it just came off as a cheap marketing gimmick. The mascots often lacked personality and felt more like placeholders than actual characters. I would have preferred companies and brands to focus on delivering high-quality products and services instead of relying on mascots to attract customers.

2. John - ★☆☆☆☆

Tech mascots are a waste of time and resources. Instead of investing in innovation and improving their offerings, companies are putting their efforts into creating colorful and cute characters that ultimately add no value to the products. I find it frustrating to see these mascots being plastered all over advertisements and promotional materials, as if they are the main selling point. It's misleading and unprofessional.

3. Sarah - ★★☆☆☆

I understand the intention behind introducing tech mascots, but I can't help but feel they are more appropriate for children's toys or cartoons, rather than representing sophisticated technology. The mascots often come across as juvenile and out of touch with the target audience. Companies should focus on building trust and providing reliable products through transparency and quality, rather than relying on mascots that seem disconnected from their actual offerings.

4. Mark - ★☆☆☆☆

Tech mascots are utterly unnecessary and do nothing but clutter the branding and marketing efforts of companies. They add no value to the consumer experience and often only serve to annoy and distract potential customers. I prefer companies to be straightforward and professional in their approach, rather than relying on gimmicks and mascots that are more suited for entertainment purposes than technology-related products or services. It's a trend that needs to die out quickly.

The Science Behind Creating a Successful Tech Mascot