In line with the the rise of AI slop, visualised thinking – charts, Venn diagrams, complex chord diagrams and various other illustrations pulled from statistics – has become something of a signifier in recent years. They’re usually posted in Substack articles, pinned to Pinterest boards, or tucked into Instagram carousel posts with an indie-electro backing track. But beyond online spaces, these diagrammatic visuals have also begun cropping up in the tattoo world.

More and more posts of freshly tattooed skin with diagrams, axes and arrows are appearing on feeds. Some show fine line designs of systems-based models, others use labelled axes (not the wood-chopping kind), or interconnected structures that map the many forms of the human condition. It’s an influx that East London-based tattoo artist Deven, whose recent work includes a circular map of the genetic code and a triangular mapping of the spirit, body and soul, can attest to. “Although abstract patterns and diagrammatic tattoos have always existed, there’s been a noticeable increase in people wanting these kinds of designs,” she tells us. “I’ve had people asking to add structural elements into my existing flash designs, while others have sent me diagrammatic images to incorporate into their tattoos.”

Where tattoos have recently tended toward more immediately legible forms, such as post-pandemic cutesy characters or the ironic, memetic designs shaped by internet humour, diagrammatic tattoos leave more space for meaning to be constructed rather than spelled out. Diagrams have long been used to organise complexity, but their renewed popularity now feels tied to a wider cultural need for cognitive structure, as people search for ways to remain balanced in an increasingly precarious time. In this way, people are drawn to forms that help them chart progress, impose logic and make some sense of it all. 

Many of these tattoos take on additional philosophical or spiritual meanings. Some show alternate realms of existence, like a handpoked body floating upwards through fine-line quadrants; another charts the dimensions of self-existence within a pyramid. It’s designs like these that appeal to Deven most. “I’m not Christian, however I think many of the keywords within those diagrams, like ‘self-control,’ ‘gentleness,’ and ‘faithfulness’ reflect values that are universally aspirational in order to live a sincere and fulfilling life,” she explains.

A similar approach to iconography can be seen in the rise of religious aesthetic tattoos among young people, which Dazed explored last year. Contributors spoke about how iconography can serve as a reminder of faith or as guidance of how to live their lives – it appears that spiritualism is being translated in a similar way here, only now through systems rather than symbols.

As in many creative fields, tattooing has been drawn into ongoing discussions around the use of AI tools to develop concepts for both artists and clients. More broadly within culture, AI’s capacity to produce endless, frictionless visuals has begun to shift how images are valued. When anything can be rendered instantly, images risk losing the sense of process or material intention that once anchored them. In that context, diagrams require a different kind of interpretive labour, as an extra application of knowledge is required to discover their meaning.

This speaks to a wider prioritising of knowledge among young people, as well as the aestheticisation of thinking. With intellectualism increasingly positioned as an antidote to AI slop, content saturation and the dulling effects of being too heavily online, it feels natural that these currents would eventually find their way into our choices of tattoo.

This introduces the question of how these tattoos are being read. It is difficult to measure whether people are deeply engaged in these ideas, drawn to the social currency of graphs and dense-looking texts, or simply responding to their visual appeal. Within the broader discourse around intellectualism, similar forms have often been subject to accusations of “signalling” or “poser” behaviour.

But as Rayne Fisher-Quann argues in her essay Poser Ethics, identity is not necessarily insincere or false just because it is performed. Much of the discomfort around aesthetic or performative identities comes from a tendency to read visibility as inauthenticity, when in reality identity is often formed through visible gestures in the first place. In that sense, tattooing is one of the most permanent ways that identity is made visible. These tattoos sit within that same ambiguity. Whatever the intention behind them, their rise says something about the kinds of designs resonating now: ones that suggest thought, or at least the appearance of it.