Apple’s Most Striking Design Yet. But What Did It Really Solve?

When Apple introduced Liquid Glass, I paused for a second.

Everything looked polished. Animations were fluid. Buttons changed with background lighting. It was visually impressive, no doubt about that. But beneath all that shine, one question kept coming back: What are we solving here?

It felt more like a filter than a feature.

I kept watching. The new iOS interface moved like water. Panels faded in and out. The keyboard blurred subtly as you scrolled. It was tasteful. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was design for design’s sake. It made me appreciate the craftsmanship, but not the outcome. I noticed the animation more than the action. That’s never a good sign. Watch the short video here: 

Somewhere Along the Way, We Stopped Asking "Why"

This isn’t about criticizing polish. Apple is still unmatched in delivering a unified experience. But polish alone is not innovation. A redesign only matters when it unlocks something new.

There was a time when a WWDC keynote didn’t just show what was coming. It shifted how we worked. Face ID changed how we think about security. iMessage became a new form of presence, not just texting. And when Apple brought real multitasking to the iPad, it finally gave the device a reason to exist beyond media consumption. All of that felt like progress.

But this year, the story felt flat. Even the Messages app, which got chat effects, polls, and colorful backgrounds, felt like it was catching up to apps that figured this out five years ago. Nothing made me rethink the way I use my phone.

And that’s what stung. Not what was missing visually. But what was missing emotionally.

The AI We Got Versus the AI We Hoped For

Apple Intelligence is technically impressive. It summarizes emails, cleans up photos, and creates emoji that mirror your face. All of it happens on-device with privacy in mind. On paper, it’s solid. But emotionally? It fell short.

This should’ve been the year Apple redefined how we interact with AI. Not just generate content, but interpret context. Not just complete actions, but anticipate needs. That didn’t happen.

I expected a new Siri. Not louder, but deeper. Not a gimmick, but a true assistant. One that adapts to how I speak. One that understands my rhythm, not just my voice. What we got was minor upgrades and a new brand name.

I’m not saying Apple needed to compete with OpenAI or Google head-to-head. But I did expect a statement. Something that said, “This is what AI should feel like when it’s human-first.” Instead, they gave us features. Polite, capable, predictable features.

There Were Wins. Quiet, But Real.

That said, not everything felt off. Some updates stood out, not because they tried to impress, but because they worked. iPadOS makes multitasking easier now instead of more chaotic. On the watch, the new Workout Buddy offers just the right nudge during a workout. It feels integrated, not forced.

Messages also saw some thoughtful changes. Polls, backgrounds, and small touches added life without trying too hard. Some of the AI features, especially live translations and message summaries, felt genuinely helpful.

They worked quietly in the background, which is exactly what good AI should do. Even on the developer side, Apple opening its on-device AI models through a new API feels like a smart move. It’s not a big leap yet, but it’s a solid step forward.

Design Took Center Stage

The more I think about Liquid Glass, the more I see it as a metaphor. It reflects everything around it, but reveals very little of its own substance.

Yes, it looks great. But I couldn’t stop noticing it. Good design should feel invisible. This one kept reminding me it was there.

Take something as small as the blurred keyboard background. It’s clever. But does it help? Or is it just motion for the sake of motion? These details used to be invisible wins. This year, they felt like focal points.

When design becomes the headline, experience becomes the afterthought. And that’s the opposite of how Apple built its reputation.

What It Feels Like to Be Underwhelmed

I’ve followed Apple’s journey for years. Not because I expect perfection, but because I admire boldness. The willingness to rethink. The moments where they made something better not by adding more, but by removing what didn’t belong.

There was none of that here.

The announcements were safe. The roadmap was safe. Even the excitement on stage felt like it was reading from a prompter, not a passion.

And yet, I wanted to be excited. I wanted to feel like I did in the early days, when the phone didn’t just work. It understood me. When updates didn’t just improve the system, they elevated my experience as a person.

This Was a Reflection, Not a Revolution

WWDC 2025 showed a company in sync with itself. Maybe too much so. Everything felt controlled. Beautiful, yes. Cohesive, yes. But also cautious. Like a company that knows how to please, but isn’t sure when to provoke.

I still believe Apple has the team and the trust to lead again. But it needs to take risks. It needs to ask harder questions. It needs to be less obsessed with what looks good and more invested in what feels good.

Because at the end of the day, design will always evolve. But meaning is what people remember.