It's been a while since I've done this sort of article, but today I'm back, and I really think you're going to love this one. We're going to put our creative juices on hold and spend some quality time together exploring the history and evolution of those little critters that we like to call "icons". So, if you're into icon design as much as I am (digital fist bump while smiling like a crazy person), make a quick stop at the nearest espresso machine and grab a cup of that magical bean liquor, and then gently hop on back into the chair and let the journey begin. Well, I guess a lot of you already know the answer, but if the social sciences class "Research Methods and Techniques" taught me anything, it's that for each and every study (which this article clearly is), you should always start from the root level of your concept and then gradually build your way up using multiple layers of information. So, "icon" is a noun of Greek origin (eikόn), and is defined according to the Merriam Webster online dictionary as "a conventional religious image typically painted on a small wooden panel and used in the devotion of Eastern Christians."

Bret Brautigam wrote a thought provoking article on how adding a human voice to a computer could be a form of skeuomorphism. This idea made me wonder… Is any form of conversational design Skeuomorph to some extent? Before we start, let's address the fat turkey in the room: what the hell is Skeuomorphism? Simply put, Skeuomorphism is a fancy design term based on the simple idea of creating elements that resemble their real-world counterparts (switches etc). You might wonder, how could anyone design such a hideous interface?

Not too long ago humanity left behind its skeuomorphic interfaces. Skeuomorphism meant using references to real world surface textures on visual interfaces to enhance their comprehensibility. We stripped our visual interfaces off their ornamentations to allow a more authentic approach to visual aesthetics. Killing skeuomorphism made us feel very smart about ourselves. We finally don't need glossy buttons to understand something is tappable!

It was the year that our smartphones became boring, and smartwatches proved to be less a revolution than an alternative to any other watch. But things also got weird this year: VR finally had its moment in the limelight--Oculus Rift and HTC Vive both hit after years of hype--while Pokemon Go and Snapchat normalized augmented reality, seemingly overnight. Here are our favorite--and least favorite--UI projects from the year. Clara In a world where every speaker in your home wants to crack a joke, Clara is a quiet revolution in AI assistants. Rather than living in some product or app, Clara is a virtual person that you simply CC on emails.

Pop culture these days is awash in tales of AI run amok, from machines that act like humans to humans in love with machines. The reason seems clear enough: We're anxious about a world in which machines have superseded us. Designers are already grappling with whether a robot should ever really act like a human. I don't mean robots in the futuristic sense, like you might find in Westworld or 2001, but rather robots that we're increasingly dealing with everyday. I mean the robots that live in Google Allo, Facebook Messenger, and a host of other new services that use chat-based assistants to serve up everything from airplane reservations to outfit advice.