Attractive things Work Better
I’ve always noticed how looks can open doors. It’s something people like to call pretty privilege. In most industries, they prefer someone who has good looks. You see it everywhere at the airport check-in counter where the smiling, well-dressed staff makes you feel calm, or in a company that hires someone polished to sit at the front desk because, somehow, they represent the brand better.
We are naturally drawn to beauty, whether it’s a charming smile or a sleek phone screen. Companies know this; that’s why a tech gadget with a glowing logo or a car with smooth curves often sells better than a clunky but equally powerful competitor. Don Norman’s idea that “attractive things work better” isn’t just about vanity. it’s about psychology.
A MacBook isn’t the fastest laptop in the world, and yet when we open that smooth aluminum case and feel the satisfying click of the keys, we tend to believe it’s faster, smarter, and somehow more capable. The elegant design creates a sense of trust and delight that shapes how we experience the product. The beauty of it literally makes us think it works better.

Attractive design doesn’t just sell. It softens us. It makes us more patient with flaws, more forgiving of errors, and more willing to explore. That’s the secret power of beauty: it opens the door for better experiences.
Norman explains this beautifully in “Attractive Things Work Better.” He talks about how our emotions influence the way we interact with the world. When something looks good, it makes us feel good and when we feel good, we actually perform better. He even gives a simple example: imagine walking on a wooden plank that’s safely on the ground you’d stroll across without a second thought. But put that same plank high in the air, and suddenly, your fear takes over, your body stiffens, and it becomes ten times harder. The situation didn’t change; your feelings did.
That’s what happens with design too. When we see something beautiful like a teapot with elegant curves or a smartphone that feels right in our hands it puts us in a positive mood. We become more relaxed, more open, and surprisingly, even more creative. Norman calls this the power of positive affect. It’s why we forgive a beautiful product for small flaws but get frustrated quickly with an ugly one, even if it works just as well.
So when I think about “pretty privilege,” it’s not just about faces or appearances it’s about how beauty changes behavior. Attractive people, like attractive designs, create comfort and trust before a single word is spoken or a single button is pressed. And through this text, I feel like it helped me see that aesthetics aren’t shallow; they’re psychological. Beauty works because it changes us somehow.
Her Code Got Humans On The Moon — And Invented Software Itself
When I was in eighth grade, our school hosted a movie event through a club called Global Female in STEM (Science Technology Engineering and Mathematics). They showed movie called “Hidden Figures” which is the story of three brilliant African-American women, Katherine Johnson, Dorothy Vaughan, and Mary Jackson, whose work made NASA’s early space missions possible. I remember sitting there, completely mesmerized, realizing for the first time how many women had shaped history from behind the scenes, only to have their names forgotten.

Since that day, I’ve carried a quiet admiration, and maybe a little fire, for women in STEM who were never given the recognition they deserved. Now, as a Computer Science major myself, I’ve felt small moments of that same bias. Sometimes, it’s a look that says “are you sure you can do this?” It’s subtle, but it stings like being told you have to prove your worth twice before anyone believes it once.
That’s why reading about Margaret Hamilton hit differently and fill me up with pride. Here was a woman in the 1960s, leading a team at MIT, writing code that would land humans on the moon all while raising her daughter.
The image of her bringing her little girl to the lab late at night felt so familiar. My mom, also a working mother in STEM, used to take me to her computer lab when I used to be alone. Margaret’s story reminded me of my mother of every woman who’s ever juggled passion, work, and motherhood with quiet strength.

What moved me most was how Margaret didn’t just write code; she invented software engineering itself. She gave structure, respect, and permanence to something the world didn’t even consider a real science yet. And when her code saved the Apollo 11 mission, it wasn’t just a victory for NASA. It was proof that brilliance has no gender.
Reading her story filled me with pride. It made me realize that every time a woman like Margaret Hamilton, or my mother, or even I sit behind a computer and type, we’re not just writing code. We’re continuing a legacy.