UX Strategy
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Jun 10, 2025
Arabic and English design makes experiences beautiful
Designing for Arabic and English goes beyond translation. I share how thoughtful design choices create seamless experiences that are inclusive, accessible, and beautiful.

Talgat Kussainov

Creating Seamless Bilingual Experiences
When I first started working on bilingual products, I assumed the challenge was mostly technical. I thought it was about flipping layouts, aligning text to the right side, and making sure fonts displayed correctly. Over time, I learned that designing for Arabic and English is not only about mechanics. It is about creating experiences that feel natural, inclusive, and beautiful in both languages.
Designing for two languages at once is an act of balance. English flows from left to right. Arabic flows from right to left. English words tend to be short, while Arabic words can stretch longer. English fonts are usually light and compact. Arabic fonts are more expressive and can change shape depending on context. A design that works perfectly in one language can feel awkward in the other.
As a senior IC, I see this not as a burden but as an opportunity. Bilingual design challenges us to be more thoughtful. It forces us to question assumptions, push our craft further, and innovate in ways that single-language design never demands. Done well, bilingual design makes global products more accessible, more inclusive, and more delightful.
Why Bilingual Design Matters
Arabic is spoken by more than 300 million people around the world. English connects billions more. Many products today aspire to serve both audiences. Yet too often, bilingual experiences feel like afterthoughts.
When design does not adapt gracefully, users notice. Misaligned text, broken layouts, or awkward translations undermine trust. Research by Maaly Ali Ababtain and Abdul Raouf Khan (2017) analyzed Arabic-English websites and found recurring usability issues in areas like navigation and content alignment. Their work is a reminder that bilingual design requires intentional systems, not quick fixes.
By contrast, when a product feels equally natural in both Arabic and English, it sends a powerful message. It tells users that their language and culture are respected. It shows that the product was designed for them, not simply adapted for them.
Moving Beyond the “Pain” Narrative
Too often, discussions about bilingual or right-to-left design are framed around difficulty. Designers complain about broken components, complicated grids, or mirrored icons. While these challenges are real, focusing only on the pain misses the opportunity.
Bilingual design is not just a hurdle. It is a craft. It is a chance to push our systems to be more flexible, our type choices to be more inclusive, and our layouts to be more resilient. It is also a space for innovation. Apple’s Human Interface Guidelines include a dedicated section on right-to-left support, emphasizing that directionality is more than just flipping screens. Thoughtful mirroring of icons and navigation patterns is essential for clarity and meaning.
Instead of asking “How do we make this work?” we can ask “How do we make this beautiful?” The most rewarding moments come when a bilingual interface does not simply function in Arabic and English but feels equally polished, thoughtful, and intentional in both.
The Craft of Typography
Typography is at the heart of bilingual design. English and Arabic differ not only in direction but in rhythm, spacing, and expression. Choosing typefaces that harmonize across both languages is both art and science.
A good bilingual type system balances personality with clarity. The Arabic typeface should feel authentic, not like a forced translation of Latin letterforms. The English typeface should not dominate or feel disconnected. Together, they should create a visual rhythm that feels cohesive.
Line height, spacing, and weight all play a role. Arabic often requires more generous line height. English tends to need tighter spacing. Striking the right balance allows both languages to coexist without one feeling secondary. When typography is chosen with care, the interface feels like a single product rather than two stitched together.
Layouts That Adapt Gracefully
The most obvious difference between Arabic and English design is directionality. English flows left to right. Arabic flows right to left. But mirroring a layout is only the starting point.
Icons, charts, and navigation patterns often carry directional meaning. A forward arrow points to the right in English but to the left in Arabic. A timeline flows one way in English and the opposite way in Arabic. Careless mirroring can create confusion. Thoughtful adaptation preserves meaning.
Apple’s guidelines on inclusion expand this idea further. They remind us that design is not only about aligning pixels but about respecting cultural context and accessibility, ensuring that products feel natural across diverse audiences.
Microcopy and Voice
Words carry culture. Designing for Arabic and English is not only about fitting text into boxes. It is about ensuring that tone and meaning resonate equally.
Arabic often requires more words to express the same idea. A button label that fits neatly in English might expand in Arabic. Designers need to allow room for expansion and avoid layouts that break when text grows.
Voice also matters. English tends to favor brevity and directness. Arabic can carry more formality or nuance. A 2025 study by Alhazmi shows that bilingual presentation reduces cognitive load and improves comprehension for people with limited English ability. While focused on education, the insight applies here too: bilingual clarity supports understanding and reduces friction.
Systems Thinking for Localization
One-off fixes do not scale. Successful bilingual design requires systems thinking. Component libraries should be built with flexibility in mind. Documentation should capture not just how to flip layouts but why certain decisions matter.
As a senior IC, I see documentation as a form of care. A new designer should not need to rediscover how a bilingual grid works. An engineer should not guess whether an icon should mirror. Systems reduce friction, prevent inconsistency, and make localization feel intentional rather than improvised.
When systems are strong, teams can focus on higher-order design problems instead of re-solving the basics. That is how bilingual design scales gracefully.
Invisible Wins in Bilingual Design
The most successful bilingual experiences are often invisible. Users do not stop to notice that the interface adapted perfectly to their language. They simply feel comfortable. That comfort is the result of countless invisible wins:
Buttons that resize gracefully when Arabic words are longer.
Icons that flip direction without losing meaning.
Type choices that feel balanced even when scripts differ.
Error states that read naturally in both languages.
These details may never be celebrated in a product launch. But they are the foundation of trust and usability. The absence of friction is itself a design achievement.
Bilingual Design as Innovation
When you design for Arabic and English together, you are not only solving for two languages. You are designing for resilience, flexibility, and inclusivity. These qualities benefit every user, not just bilingual ones.
A flexible grid that supports right-to-left flows also adapts better to new devices. A type system that balances different scripts is more robust overall. A mindset that considers cultural nuance creates more empathetic products everywhere.
Research by Alsahafi (2024) on Saudi undergraduates shows how bilingualism is tied to identity and trust. When design honors that identity, users feel a stronger sense of belonging. That emotional connection is one of the most valuable outcomes design can create.
Looking Back
Designing for Arabic and English is more than a technical challenge. It is an act of inclusion. It requires empathy, craft, and systems thinking. It transforms products into global experiences that feel natural to millions of people across cultures.
I no longer see bilingual design as a source of pain. I see it as an opportunity to innovate and to elevate the craft. The work may not always be visible, but its impact is profound. When a product feels seamless in both Arabic and English, it tells users that they belong. And that is one of the most powerful messages design can send.