Every so often, a book cover comes along that perfectly captures the spirit of its title — just not in the way it intended. Unity in Service is a shining example of what happens when patriotism and PowerPoint get a little too cozy.

Let’s start with the star of the show: the road made of metaphor — a shiny, winding blacktop that zigzags dramatically across a billowing American flag. It’s not clear where this patriotic path is going, but judging by the perspective, it’s straight into a void of questionable design choices. The poor flag looks like it’s been ironed onto the landscape by a fourth grader using a glue stick and ambition.

The composition tries to say “journey toward citizenship,” but visually, it says “driver’s ed pamphlet for bald eagles.” The flag, warped and stretched, looks like it’s doing yoga beneath the asphalt snake, while a faint suburban skyline watches helplessly in the background. If Norman Rockwell ever learned Photoshop in a fever dream, this might’ve been his first draft.

Then there’s the typography, which commits all three acts of design treason: bad hierarchy, bad spacing, and bad contrast. The title UNITY IN SERVICE is blaring in red, white, and blue like an overzealous campaign banner. The subtitle, A Pathway to Responsible Citizenship, feels like something that should be printed on a brochure at the DMV. And the author’s name — CHIP WEBSTER — sits below in blocky, conservative caps, quietly judging everything above it.

The font choices are all serifed, serious, and self-important, giving the impression of gravitas without actually earning it. This isn’t typography that inspires. It’s typography that reminds you to stand for the Pledge of Allegiance before opening Excel.

And that color palette — my god. Red, white, and blue can be elegant, but not when they’re screaming at each other in a high-contrast shouting match. This isn’t unity; it’s color conflict. The flag’s red stripes overpower everything, and the overall effect is less “nation of ideals” and more “Fourth of July PowerPoint template: Version 2.0.”

Even the skyline at the bottom can’t save it. Is it a city? A town? A set of Monopoly houses painted navy blue? We’ll never know. It’s there purely to fill space — a background actor trapped in a patriotic hallucination.

But the real tragedy is how earnest it all feels. You can tell this cover means well. It’s trying to uplift, to inspire, to say something about civic virtue. But instead, it looks like a motivational poster that got left behind in a high school government classroom.

In a way, Unity in Service is almost poetic — a visual metaphor for how good intentions and bad execution can coexist in perfect, red-white-and-blue disharmony.

The message may be noble, but the cover?
It’s a pathway to graphic design purgatory.

Somewhere, the American flag is looking down on this and whispering, “Please. Stop using me as a background texture.”