A few months ago, ailing from a cold and desperate for semi-educational background content to partially atone for the amount of time I was spending on video games, I stumbled onto the YouTube channel “Premodernist”,  run by a retired-from-academia historian who makes longform, lecture-style videos about miscellaneous episodes of history. With nothing but time and a die-hard dedication to burying myself in a Stardew Valley run, I digested everything I could in record time. 

In the months that have followed, owing partially to my own recuperation and partially to the channel’s relatively slow upload pace, Premodernist gradually slipped out of my life. Today, recovering this time not from illness but rather a tragic chemical addiction to TikTok, I found myself again, a desperate detoxee, staring at one screen to distract me from another. On that larger screen, Premodernist’s newest video: In defense of the state flags.

I won’t break down the individual points made in the video. If you’re the type of person interested enough to watch a 90 minute rebuttal to a shift in flag-making trends, you’ll have already left to watch that video. And if you’re not, there’s no way you’re going to be interested in a recap. Essentially, Premodernist comes out against a current attitude of the vexillological zeitgeist, the movement to change the flags of U.S. states (and, in some jurisdictions, cities) to be more aesthetically appealing and modern.

Cards on the table, if you know me, you know I hold this issue in high esteem. I’m far from an undecided voter, but any candidate who comes out in favor of flag reform has won a dedicated supporter. I wrote an article a few years ago begging my adoptive home state of Minnesota to change its awful flag, and a second celebratory article when a committee gathered in Saint Paul to adopt a new flag. My opinions on the resulting flag aside, this has been something I’ve been pulling for for a long time, inspired in part by the writers and content creators rebutted by Premodernist.

The core argument put forth by these creators is that most state flags are ugly, outdated, and indistinguishable. In seeking to modernize them, most cite a pamphlet originally written by Ted Kaye of the North American Vexillological Association (vexillology being the study of flags). Kaye’s pamphlet sets out five criteria for a good flag and judges present flags against these criteria.

These criteria are: 

1.     Keep It Simple.  The flag should be so simple that a child can draw it from memory.
2.     Use Meaningful Symbolism.  The flag’s images, colors, or patterns should relate to what it symbolizes.
3.     Use 2 or 3 Basic Colors.  Limit the number of colors on the flag to three which contrast well and come from the standard color set.
4.     No Lettering or Seals.  Never use writing of any kind or an organization’s seal.
5.     Be Distinctive or Be Related.  Avoid duplicating other flags, but use similarities to show connections.

Originating as a set of guidelines to assist in the development of a new generation of flags, vexillologists amateur and professional have grabbed onto and run with Kaye’s criteria. My first exposure to them came from Roman Mars, host of the Podcast 99% Invisible and a flag change-focused TED Talk in which he referenced Kaye’s criteria directly.

Mars’s talk takes these guidelines in spirit, but the second content creator to take vexillology out of its ultra-nerd niche and into the regular-nerd mainstream was YouTuber CGP Grey who, in a series of videos and podcasts, slightly altered Kaye’s rules and treated them more as laws. In a video ranking the U.S. state flags, Grey rains hellfire on those flags that break rules like the disinclusion of text. The result is a video full of decisions I largely agree with mixed with a few head-scratchers like locking California, perhaps the best known of the state flags, firmly in the lowest tier (albeit the highest echelon of that lowest tier).

Many of Premodernist’s most violent volleys are directed at CGP Grey in what feels like a real academic history vs. pop history proxy war. Grey’s video is clearly meant to be taken at least partially tongue-in-cheek, but his staunch adherence to his flag rules makes some of his classifications easier to criticize.

But Premodernist’s 90-minute video isn’t meant to be a takedown of CGP Grey’s flag standards. It’s an attack on the movement to design new state flags altogether. And he’s not alone in this counter-movement.

The core points made in the video are that the people who seek to boil complex and symbol-packed state flags into easily-sketchable logos discard centuries of history in favor of simplicity. Premodernist argues that the state flags are more distinct than we give them credit for and that their value comes from their historical origins, spending a lot of time on the number of state flags who find their origins in the Union Army during the Civil War.

I think the problem I have with Premodernist’s argument and the arguments of his fellows is that their flags are flags for the few. State flags may be loaded with symbolism and history, but in keeping them that way they remain interesting to no one but the most ardent history nerds. And history nerds deserve their content. But sticking too tightly to history threatens disregarding the purpose of flags entirely.

A flag is something for people to rally around, a pictorial representation of a people, something to be flown with relative pride. And when designed well, a flag is something that people do fly. And sometimes, flags that are successful by this sole criterion end up breaking other so-called criteria, like those laid out by Ted Kaye.

The state flag of California has text on it, and the bear can be difficult to draw. But it’s one of the most iconic flags in the country, recognized not just all over California, but from coast to coast. The state flag of Maryland is probably less well known outside of vexillological circles, but inside Maryland, it’s everywhere. Even more complex than California’s, which a child could certainly approximate if not mimic with perfect accuracy, the Maryland flag is actively difficult to reproduce. Still, it’s incredibly popular in its state, adorning flag poles and merch from the Atlantic coast to the western border with West Virginia.

But this isn’t an argument in favor of blind complexity. States like Colorado, Arizona, and New Mexico all have much simpler flags that have been met with similar esteem within their states. The star of Arizona, “C” of Colorado, and cross of New Mexico are all both iconic and easy to draw, and they’re all flown liberally across their respective states.

This, to me, is, above all, what makes a good flag: something that people want to fly. Something that people like and identify with.

I think Ted Kaye’s guidelines do a good job of approximating what makes a good flag, but they’re outdated and they’re far from a master class. I think that’s okay. Not every architect is going to design the Sydney Opera House. Most probably should stick to drawing people-houses.

Premodernist is right that these guidelines don’t lead us to an entirely satisfactory place. But he’s wrong that they’re not effective, and he’s even more wrong that their misgivings are reason enough to discard them entirely and embrace blind tradition.

The state flags that have been the subject of much derision in recent years have earned that derision. I hinted at the beginning that Minnesota’s new state flag didn’t turn out exactly how I would have wanted it. I’ve been pretty open about that. But it is a colossal improvement over a flag that was unattractive in more ways than one; Minnesota’s old flag wasn’t just ugly, it was uninviting. Until it became the banner of a sort of Trumpian intrastate reactionary anti-woke movement, I’d never once seen it waving anywhere but government buildings. By contrast, I’d seen at least twice as many houses flying competitor designs. 

No one in my original home state of South Dakota flies the South Dakotan flag. It’s ugly, it’s packed with unnecessary design elements, and it’s bad. I assume the same is true for other states still languishing in the seal-on-a-bedsheet ocean.

I love that historians can appreciate the historical value inherent in these banners, but I also think that, in true historian fashion, they’ll appreciate them long after they’re dead. It’s true that even a poorly-designed flag can be loaded with history, but what makes a good primary source document isn’t coterminous with what makes a good flag.

Flags are meant to be seen, meant to be flown, meant to be liked. And if they aren’t, they’re nothing more than Civil War-themed windsocks.

Tagged flags