Less, But Better
Dieter Rams Through a Japanese Lens
Dieter Rams was a German industrial designer best known for his work at Braun from the 1950s to the 1990s. He became widely recognised for his philosophy, “Less, but better,” and that idea is really evident in the products he created throughout his career. His work focused on clarity, function, and the quiet presence of a product, how it works, how it feels, and how it exists in a space. Much of what we see in design today still bears his influence. While watching the documentary, what really stood out to me was the Japanese influence in his home and garden. I hadn’t expected that. Looking into it further, Rams was never formally trained in Japan, but his philosophy strongly aligns with Japanese aesthetics, and he openly admired Japanese culture and design.
One concept that really connects the two is the Japanese word ma. Ma refers to the meaningful space between things. The character itself combines the symbols for “gate” and “sun,” suggesting light shining through an opening, emphasising the space rather than the object. It’s often seen in traditional Japanese interiors, where objects are carefully placed to highlight the emptiness around them. That emptiness isn’t accidental, it gives everything clarity and presence.
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But ma isn’t just visual. It can be the silence between musical notes, the pause in a conversation, or the gap between events. It’s the idea of taking a breath, a moment to step back. I feel like this directly relates to Rams’ design philosophy. We live in a world that constantly fills every surface and every second with noise. Everything competes for attention. Rams reminds us that absence can be powerful. One of his ten principles states that good design is “as little design as possible.” And I don’t think this is minimalism just to look nice. It feels more purposeful than that, minimalism for the user. To make things clearer, easier, and better to use.
Rams’ products don’t shout for attention. Like ma, they create space, visually and mentally, for the user to exist without distraction. This idea becomes even clearer when looking at his home in Kronberg. The clean geometry, natural materials, large glass openings, and strong integration with nature all reflect the same restraint seen in his products. What stood out to me most was his garden. The placement of the plants, the rocks, the balance of everything, it all felt thoughtful and precise, but never over the top. Nothing was loud. Nothing felt excessive. Everything felt intentional.​​​
Japanese gardens are not just decorative, they are composed works of restraint and balance. Even practices like bonsai require discipline, patience, and deep respect for form. That mentality feels very similar to Rams’ approach to design. It’s about control, refinement, and knowing when to stop. His home doesn’t try to dominate its environment. It creates a calm, ordered, almost silent atmosphere, much like traditional Japanese architecture. It steps back from the world instead of adding to the noise. Like his products, it does its job quietly and allows life to happen around it.
I don’t think it’s accurate to say Rams directly copied Japanese design. It feels more like parallel thinking. Post-war Germany was rebuilding not just its cities, but its identity. At the same time, post-war Japan was redefining itself. Both cultures shifted toward precision, functionality, modesty, craft, and social responsibility. Restraint became a conscious choice. What’s interesting is that simplicity in both cases wasn’t just aesthetic, it required discipline and confidence. Simplicity is actually harder than complexity. It demands clarity of purpose and the removal of anything unnecessary.
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So rather than saying Rams was visually inspired by Japan, I think it’s more accurate to say he was aligned with Japanese philosophical thinking. Both embrace the idea that design should serve quietly, responsibly, and with intention.
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And in today’s world, that feels more relevant than ever.
