“The whole is other than the sum of the parts.”
The Gestalt Principles are among the first guidelines designers learn. They’re invaluable as we begin to understand what makes interfaces work and why they feel intuitive. Conceptualized by a group of German and Austrian psychologists in the 1920s, these principles rejected the structuralist approach popular in psychology at the time. Where structuralism focused on breaking down perception into isolated parts, the Gestalt school flipped the script. It emphasized that we perceive experiences holistically, and that context and relationships shape how we interpret both the mental and physical world.
In design, this is foundational. Gestalt principles help us organize how users relate elements to each other. Take the Law of Proximity, we tend to perceive items that are close together as related. So, if you design a filter for a data table, it’s best practice to place the filter trigger near the table itself, not floating in the bottom-right corner of the page.
Not only are Gestalt principles some of the first we learn, they’re also some of the most commonly applied in our day-to-day work. From design reviews and user flows to component libraries and motion design. Where we place items, and how they relate visually, really matters.
Another concept born of it relates to the learning and processing of information. Many people are born with an analytical language processing style. Which means that analytical learners internalize language by learning individual words, and then compiling them into larger chunks, like sentences and paragraphs. By contrast, a Gestalt language processor will flip that. Learning paragraphs and large chunks of text wholesale, before breaking them down and understanding the individual elements. Like Gestalt Principles, Gestalt language processors (henceforth GLP) look at things holistically before breaking them down.
Identifying a GLP, especially in adulthood is rarely straightforward. Many adults, especially neurodivergent ones, have developed layers of scripts, adaptive strategies, or masking behaviors that make their processing style less visible. That’s why it’s best to approach GLP not as a label to assign, but as a lens: a recognition that there are many valid ways to learn, communicate, and process information.
It’s also important not to pathologize this style of learning. To some extent, we’re all a mix of analytic and gestalt processors. Just like in visual design, some of us naturally perceive the whole before we see the pieces and vice versa. We all lean one way or the other depending on context, familiarity, and even stress.
As interesting as this might be, you might ask: “What does this mean for my day-to-day design work?” The answer, as is often the case, is designing for accessibility. GLP benefit when we:
These practices make interfaces more navigatable for everyone. Including those who rely on pattern-based or contextual learning.
But beyond the UI itself, an awareness of different processing styles helps us in user research, interviews, usability testing, and collaborative workshops. We become better facilitators when we understand that not everyone processes instructions, questions, or screens in the same way.
Ultimately, it’s a reminder that everyone shows up differently. And often, that difference stems not from ability, but from how we process meaning.