Is Beauty Really in the Eye of the Beholder?

Jess Castellote

In her novel Molly Bawn, the 19th-century Irish novelist Margaret Wolfe Hungerford used the phrase “beauty is in the eye of the beholder” for the first time. Since then, it has become a cultural catchphrase, suggesting that beauty is entirely subjective, varying from person to person. The phrase has stuck around, probably because it feels so empowering: my opinion about beauty matters just as much as anyone else’s. But is that true, or is it just an old cliché we repeat without much thought? After reading this phrase repeatedly in the responses to an article I recently wrote, I started questioning it more critically.

I have long been fascinated by the Yoruba concept of iwà l’ẽwà (“character is beauty”), which offers a deeper, more grounded perspective on beauty. This idea contrasts sharply with the modern notion of beauty as purely subjective. In Yoruba thought, beauty is not just about aesthetics or personal taste; it’s intrinsically tied to character and ethical integrity. If I understand the expression well, in Yoruba thought, beauty is not merely about what is pleasing to the senses but about what resonates with the essence of a person or thing. Good character (iwà rere) is considered the truest form of beauty because it reflects harmony, authenticity, and alignment with both universal principles and societal values. A person who embodies virtues like kindness, humility, and integrity is seen as genuinely beautiful, above physical appearance. This approach aligns with the scholastic philosophical concept of the “transcendentals”—truth, goodness, and beauty—which exist independently of human perception. However, the concept of iwà l’ẽwà contrasts with the contemporary Western emphasis on physical attractiveness, which is often shaped by cultural trends, individual tastes, and commercial influences. Just as goodness is not determined by individual preferences, beauty in the iwà l’ẽwà framework has an objective reality. Unlike the Western notion that “beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” it insists that beauty exists as an intrinsic quality waiting to be discovered in the essence of a person or thing. Good character, therefore, is seen as a radiance of being that reveals truth and goodness, making it a universal standard for beauty.

There is something deeply attractive in this Yoruba notion, shared in many other parts of Africa. Perhaps, after all, beauty, like goodness, isn’t just about preference—it might be tied to deeper qualities that transcend individual likes and dislikes. Perhaps “beauty is not exclusively in the eyes of the beholder.” Definitely, the expression is a neat way of saying that what’s beautiful to one person might not be to another. But is this true? Or is there more to the story? Could it be that beauty, like truth and goodness, isn’t entirely up to us—that we are not the ultimate arbiters of what is beautiful, good, or true? After all, we wouldn’t say that enjoying a harmful act makes it good. In the same way, does liking something, or personally considering something beautiful, automatically make it beautiful? Is beauty in my eyes or in the object I am looking at? If we accept the modern Western idea that beauty is entirely subjective, then it could be true that beauty is purely in the eye of the beholder, often tied to physical attractiveness and influenced by cultural trends and personal tastes.

It is easy to see how culture shapes our perception of beauty, as fashion and trends reflect the shifting tastes, values, and imaginations of societies. They are time-bound, location-bound, culturally contingent, and often ephemeral. It is not surprising that critics of the idea of a “universally objective beauty” point out that beauty often depends on where you are from and what you grew up with. For instance, traditional Japanese aesthetics emphasise serenity and harmony, while Baroque art revels in dramatic flair, and Yoruba art integrates visual and symbolic elements that celebrate communal identity. There is no doubt that these cultural lenses influence what we find beautiful. And even within a culture, beauty standards change over time. It is our common experience that the perception of beauty is deeply personal. At the Yemisi Shyllon Museum of Art, I regularly see how visitors respond differently to the same artwork. One person might be captivated by an abstract painting, while another dismisses it entirely. These differing reactions underscore how personal experiences and emotions shape our perceptions of beauty.

But the question is complex. In his book Beauty, philosopher Roger Scruton challenged the idea of beauty as purely subjective, arguing that calling something beautiful is not merely about personal taste; it’s an acknowledgment of inherent value. This line of thinking ties very well with the notion of iwà l’ẹwà (“character is beauty”) I mentioned earlier. Just as some acts are objectively good or bad, beauty might have an objective dimension, too. Beauty, he argues, is not arbitrary; it draws us toward something universal and enduring. It’s not just what pleases us but what deserves appreciation. Take, for instance, Ben Enwonwu’s stunning bronze sculpture Africa Dances at the Yemisi Shyllon Museum of Art. It exudes an energetic rhythm, capturing a sense of freedom and vitality that reflects the essence of African dance traditions. The smooth, elongated lines and flowing contours, emphasising grace and elegance, are rarely paralleled in any other sculptural works of the 20th century, anywhere in the world. These qualities exist whether someone notices them or not. Even when no one is in the museum, the sculpture retains its beauty because it embodies objective qualities—objective beauty—worthy of recognition.

But I see a problem in the argument that beauty is purely subjective. If followed to its conclusions, wouldn’t it lead to extreme relativism, where no aesthetic judgment can be deemed better or worse than another? If beauty were wholly subjective, it would be difficult to explain why some works of art or some natural settings consistently inspire awe across generations. This seems to suggest that these realities possess an objective existence that transcends individual perspectives. Some philosophers have separated beauty from truth and goodness, focusing on subjective preferences and cultural constructs. However, shouldn’t we adopt a transcendental approach and argue that beauty remains universal and deeply rooted in reality, even when experienced differently across cultures? If we take beauty not as an arbitrary label, a matter of feelings, but as a reflection of something that belongs to the fundamental nature of the object itself, then wouldn’t it be appropriate to refer to the “objectivity of beauty”?

This brings us to a kind of middle ground, to a duality: beauty is both objective and subjective. On the one hand, beauty is objective because it stems from what the object is. Its qualities are there, whether someone notices them or not. But beauty is also subjective because it requires a particular person—a beholder—to discover, appreciate, or enjoy it. Beauty is a two-way street. Perhaps then, beauty is both objective and subjective. It stems from the qualities of the object itself but requires a beholder to perceive and appreciate it. This interaction between the object and the observer makes beauty a shared experience, both universal and personal. When we fail to see beauty, could it be because distractions or superficial judgments cloud our vision rather than a lack of beauty itself? While forms of beauty vary across cultures, its power to inspire and move us suggests an underlying universality. To say “beauty is in the eye of the beholder” is to suggest that perception defines reality. But just as goodness and truth exist independently of individual opinion, so might beauty. Gravity operates regardless of belief, and certain acts are inherently good or bad, regardless of personal judgment. Could beauty, as the radiance of being, also exist independently, revealing the essence of something in its authenticity and wholeness?

The Yoruba concept of iwà l’ẽwà reminds us that beauty isn’t just about appearance but about deeper qualities that resonate universally. It challenges us to look beyond the surface and to connect with the essence of what’s before us. Beauty, then, is not just something we create through perception but something we discover through engagement with the world. Beauty is an invitation—not just to enjoy but to see, to understand, and to transcend. Perhaps the real value of beauty is that it’s both universal and deeply personal. It bridges the gap between what is, what we see, and what we feel. And in doing so, it brings us closer to the heart of what it means to be human. So, while it’s tempting to say beauty is entirely subjective, the case for objectivity in beauty remains strong. So, coming back to my initial question, is beauty really in the eye of the beholder? Perhaps it’s time to rethink that cliché and recognise beauty as a profound interplay between the object and the observer, rooted in both subjective experience and objective reality. Perhaps beauty isn’t just in the eye of the beholder after all—it’s in the fabric of the world itself, waiting for us to discover it and appreciate it.

•Dr Castellote, is the Director of the Yemisi Shyllon Museum of Art, Pan-Atlantic University.