
Glassmorphism has been discussed as a design trend for years, often framed as something fleeting or purely aesthetic. But recent platform changes, especially at the operating system level, have shifted that conversation. What was once a stylistic experiment is now being formalized into system materials, forcing teams to reconsider how and when glass belongs in modern interfaces.
Glassmorphism is not a new concept, but its role in interface design has evolved significantly. While early implementations focused on visual flair, modern glass effects are increasingly tied to usability, system consistency, and performance. In 2026, glass is best understood as a design tool rather than a trend, one that must be applied selectively and with intent.
To understand whether glassmorphism is here to stay, it helps to look beyond surface aesthetics. This article explores where glass originated, how it evolved through different design eras, why it resurfaced around 2020, and how recent platform updates have reshaped its role in product design today.
Glass in interface design predates the term “glassmorphism” by many years. One of the earliest large-scale examples was Microsoft’s Windows Aero interface, which used blur and transparency to create depth while preserving context. The goal wasn’t decoration. It was hierarchy.
Apple followed a similar path. Long before glassmorphism became a named trend, iOS and macOS relied on subtle translucency in navigation bars, modals, and system overlays. These effects were restrained and purposeful, helping users orient themselves without competing with content.
As flat design gained dominance in the 2010s, heavy translucency fell out of favor. Interfaces prioritized speed, clarity, and minimalism, and glass effects were dialed back. They didn’t disappear, but they became secondary.
Around 2020, designers began reintroducing glass in a new way. Design patterns tend to cycle as tools and platforms change, and we track those shifts over time in our design trends timeline. Frosted cards, layered panels, and blurred backgrounds started appearing across landing pages, dashboards, and concept designs. This resurgence was driven by better hardware performance and more capable design tools, which made complex visual effects easier to prototype and test.
At this stage, glassmorphism was largely designer-led. It was expressive, visually engaging, and often experimental. But adoption in production products remained uneven, largely due to accessibility and readability concerns.
What changed wasn’t the idea of glass, but the context around it.
Apple’s recent OS updates introduced a refined approach to translucency often referred to as Liquid Glass. While Apple had used blur before, this implementation treats glass as a system material rather than a static effect. It responds dynamically to motion, depth, and context, and behaves consistently across the platform.
This matters because platform-level adoption changes how teams evaluate risk. Glass is no longer just a stylistic flourish. It’s a supported pattern with defined behavior, performance characteristics, and accessibility considerations.
Design tools have evolved alongside platforms. Figma’s native glass effects made it easier to design with translucency in a controlled, repeatable way. Instead of relying on workarounds or visual hacks, designers can now experiment with diffusion, blur, and layering while staying closer to how these effects behave in real products.
The result is more intentional use of glass, not just more glass.
Glass is most effective when it reinforces hierarchy rather than competing with content. Overlays, floating navigation, sheets, and secondary panels benefit from translucency because they preserve visual context while signaling separation.
In these cases, glass acts as a structural layer. It helps users understand what’s in focus and what sits behind it, without introducing heavy borders or opaque surfaces.
Problems arise when glass is applied indiscriminately. Dense interfaces, data-heavy views, and text-focused screens demand clarity. Excessive blur or low-contrast backgrounds can quickly reduce readability and increase cognitive load.
Accessibility is a key concern. Transparency directly affects contrast, and contrast affects usability. Modern glass implementations need to account for reduced-transparency settings, dynamic backgrounds, and fallback states to remain inclusive.
If you’re considering glass for a production UI, it helps to validate contrast, readability, and hierarchy early so the visual style doesn’t undermine usability.
Performance is also part of the equation. While modern devices handle blur more efficiently, glass still requires thoughtful implementation, especially on the web, where backdrop filters can be expensive if overused.
The biggest shift in how glassmorphism should be viewed is philosophical. It’s no longer about whether glass is “in” or “out.” It’s about whether depth adds clarity in a specific context.
When used deliberately, glass can improve spatial awareness, reinforce hierarchy, and make interfaces feel modern without being distracting. When overused, it becomes visual noise.
Glassmorphism didn’t suddenly arrive, and it didn’t suddenly become valid. It evolved. What’s changed is the level of support behind it, from operating systems to design tools. In 2026, glass has earned its place as part of the modern UI toolkit.
The teams that use it well are the ones that treat it as a structural decision rather than a visual shortcut. Glass isn’t here to replace simplicity. It’s here to support it, when the context calls for depth.