On September 4, 2025, the city of Austin, Texas, unveiled a new logo after seven years of planning and a hefty $1.1 million price tag—a move that’s managed to unite Republicans, Democrats, and just about everyone in between. The rebrand, intended to refresh the city’s image and foster unity across municipal departments, has instead become a lightning rod for criticism, ridicule, and rare bipartisan outrage.
The new logo, a minimalist design featuring a stylized green-and-blue 'A' with the word "Austin" beneath it, was conceived to symbolize the city’s rolling hills, rivers, and bridges. According to Austin Communications Director Jessica King, "The mark itself reflects hills, rivers and bridges that connect us to one another. The colours were inspired by surrounding environment, violet crown skies and the green canopies of our parks and trails." She added that the symbol was meant to showcase the city’s "welcoming, flexible and resilient" character.
But for many Austinites, the explanation fell flat. The response was swift and, in many cases, scathing. Residents interviewed by local news outlets like KXAN and Fox News didn’t hold back. One man, pointing to the original city seal, remarked, "This says we’re a city." Looking at the new logo, he added, "It looks more like a festival to me, like a logo for a festival." Another resident, shouting from his car, summed up the prevailing mood: "The new logo sucks! It looks like a homeless tent."
Online, the criticism only intensified. Social media users compared the redesign to the recent, much-maligned Cracker Barrel logo change, with one person writing, "The new logo has stripped away all meaning, class, and character. It's just meaningless. I've seen Captcha tests with more soul," according to the New York Post. Another quipped, "Austin flushed $1 million down the toilet just to create a crappy city logo nobody asked for."
Local attorney Adam Loewy told the Daily Mail that the backlash was one of the few issues that could unite the city’s often-divided political camps. "I have rarely seen Republicans and Democrats united on any issue quite like this, but there is outright condemnation of this logo because the logo stinks," he said. Loewy even called for city leaders to "pull a Cracker Barrel," referencing the restaurant chain’s reversal of its own rebrand after public outcry earlier this year.
For city officials, the rebrand was about more than aesthetics. City Manager T.C. Broadnax defended the project, explaining that the city’s more than 300 separate departmental logos had led to confusion for residents. "That leads to confusion for the public, which can dilute trust in the services we provide," he said. Broadnax stressed that, "For the first time in Austin’s history, we will have a logo to represent the city services and unify us as one organization, one Austin."
The city's official announcement emphasized that the new brand was "shaped by feedback from a diverse cross-section of community members and City employees." However, critics quickly pointed out that the process lacked transparency. Only a handful of residents were selectively polled, and no public meetings were held to debate the design, as highlighted by the New York Post. This secrecy has only deepened suspicions about how the $1.1 million was spent.
The timing of the logo’s debut added fuel to the fire. Just weeks prior, the Austin City Council approved a $6.3 billion budget for 2025, which included a 4% pay rise for city employees. Homeowners, meanwhile, were warned to expect property tax hikes in November, with the average bill potentially rising by $300, according to KUT. Many residents voiced frustration that the city was spending big on branding while warning of higher taxes and grappling with more pressing issues.
Underlying much of the anger is a sense that city leaders have lost sight of residents’ real concerns. Austin is currently short around 300 police officers and has allocated $101 million to address homelessness in 2025. Critics argue the logo project sends the wrong message about priorities. As one resident told local media, "It's not just about the money. It's the principle. We're being asked to pay higher taxes, we don't feel safe, and homelessness is everywhere, and the city thinks what we need most is a new logo."
Rep. Chip Roy (R-TX) didn’t mince words in his criticism, stating that city leaders "want to go spend a million dollars on a rebrand, get rid of a cross and make it some sort of, you know, a woke-looking band emblem." He continued, "We have people in Austin who don’t get their 911 calls answered. You have people that have seen an increase in crime in Austin because they were going after, gutting and cutting the police force."
Despite the backlash, city officials are pressing ahead. The new logo will begin appearing on digital assets—such as the city’s website, department pages, social media profiles, and newsletters—starting October 1, 2025. Full implementation, however, is expected to take up to a decade. To avoid further costs, police and fire uniforms will remain unchanged for now, but officials admit that millions more will eventually be spent updating signage, stationery, and staff gear, as reported by the Daily Mail.
Former Austin City Council member Makenzie Kelly has launched a petition to scrap the logo and let residents vote on the matter, according to KXAN. For many, the logo has become a symbol of misplaced priorities—a glossy emblem at a time when city services, public safety, and affordability are top of mind.
Even the city’s efforts to position the new brand as a symbol of unity have backfired. As the city’s official X (formerly Twitter) account posted, "We are launching our first-ever brand, aimed at improving our engagement with service to Austinites." The response? A rare moment of agreement among Austin’s famously feisty political factions—just not the kind city hall was hoping for.
For now, the green-and-blue 'A' stands not just for Austin’s rivers and hills, but for the anger and frustration of a city that feels its leaders are out of touch. As the digital rollout begins, the debate over what truly defines Austin—and whose voices matter in that definition—shows no sign of fading.
