In 2012, scientists gathered at the European Organization for Nuclear Research (CERN) in Geneva to hear about an incredible discovery in particle physics by Peter Higgs. This humankind-altering news was met with cheers and tears in the lecture hall. Soon, however, something curious happened: the online chatter about the “God particle” and Peter Higgs was soon surpassed by “Comic CERNs,” a nod to the head-scratching slideshow font choice by the event’s second presenter. Even Comic Sans’ designer, Vincent Connare, got in on the fun, calling out the mismatch between the event and his creation.
This story framed the introduction of design anthropologist Keith Murphy‘s 2017 article, “Fontroversy! Or, How to Care About the Shape of Language.” As an Associate Professor of Anthropology at UC Irvine, Murphy (left) spends much of his time researching the intersection of design and human culture, specifically typography. Murphy describes type in this same chapter as “an ever-present formalization of language in the everyday world,” [insert smart academic prose here], and that “typefaces often operate as familiar mechanisms through which broader social and political struggles are able to unfold.”1
He contends that the friction between design and humankind often comes alive in type. Enter the “fontroversy.”
Microsoft’s default font change from Calibri to Aptos initially sparked my interest in talking with Murphy. But as we spoke, I wanted to learn more about the work of a design anthropologist (fascinating job alert!), what he calls the “golden age of fontroversy” in the early-mid-2010s, in addition to getting his thoughts on the latest episode of type friction. Our conversation is below (lightly edited for length and clarity).
As an anthropologist, how did you get interested in researching design, specifically type and type designers?
My interest in design was accidental (I was originally interested in studying hand gestures). One of my grad school advisors suggested that I look at architects (because they gesture a lot). I started studying a group of architects in LA and looked at how they used their hands to speak to one another as they designed a building. Through that experience, I became interested in the design process, specifically, what humans do when designing. We know what design is anecdotally through the voices of famous designers in history. But what is actually going on when designers are designing? From there, it took me ten years to figure out exactly what I was interested in.
Then, I went to Sweden and fell in love with everyday objects. I already had a personal interest in graphic design and typography (as a self-taught graphic designer). As an anthropologist, I started to think of designing as a fundamental form of human action. Type is the smallest expression of this.
It was the early 2010s, a time rife with people getting angry about fonts. I started to wonder what was going on. So, I started systematically looking at why people get so worked up about fonts.
his line of research led me to look at the people who design fonts, so I started studying their processes. This led me to letterpress, which led to neon sign making, which opened up many different lettering communities.
What did you discover about the early-mid 2010s that made it ripe for fontroversy?
If brands are contracts between a company and a customer, type is doing some work in that. If you make the wrong choice (going generic instead of iconic), then you have violated the relationship that you have with the consumer. A lot of this is unconscious. We relate to and trust brands. If you choose to mess that up, it’s like being slapped in the face as a consumer.
Consumers have become more savvy (maybe not even aware of how much we’re attuned to it—we can’t help but think about it). The internet made it possible for us to find each other and complain.
Social media was not yet a cesspool. People were gathering online; forums were still popular. People started to talk about it, share it, and share images. Blogs were still a thing. My educated guess is that this period saw the convergence of brand needs and the ability for people to share their thoughts.
Tropicana [2009] and The Gap [2010 one week!)] are two big cases of having to walk back their big brand rollouts; JCPenney [2012] kept the new logo (though they switched it back several years later). Black and Decker might have been in the mix, too.
It’s like a haircut or new glasses (you notice something different in what you take for granted), and it might be a subtle enough change, but people know it’s different, and there’s friction in the perception. There’s a zone of tolerance where people might notice the change and not react badly, but if it’s too far out of the zone, like Tropicana and the Gap, people notice enough to form judgments about it and decide if it’s good or bad.
Southwest [2014], I think, got it right.
One big change during that time was cell phones—iPhones came out in 2007 but didn’t really take off until 2010. Brands started to realize that they needed to translate to smaller screens. The Tropicana logo would’ve been hard to render on a small screen. Many brands were simplifying their logos to look better on screens. But if all brands are doing this, then they all start to look alike. That sparked some of the reaction: They’re all Helvetica rip-offs! It all looks like Helvetica!
I tried to find examples of people getting upset about fonts prior to the internet, and nothing quite fit how this unfolded in the 2010s. I found an instance of the name of a font in Emigre in the 90s causing some anger (but that wasn’t unusual for Emigre). Since 2016-17, fontroversies are much rarer. When Ikea switched from Futura to Verdana in 2010, it was a PR crisis for the company—spokespeople had to explain things. But, in 2019, when they switched from Verdana to Noto, the news was barely covered.
Brands are also learning how to better roll out changes to mitigate reactions.
Talk about the Microsoft “fontroversy?” I certainly heard about it, but it hasn’t risen to the level of some of the rollouts you just mentioned.
I’ve been reading different forums to get a sense of what people are saying. It’s more mixed than I expected it to be. There’s a general sense of I hate it anytime a company switches (which is more about change). One of the reasons I think people react is: I’m used to one way, and now it’s different. There’s something interesting in that. It shows some violation of ‘this should be invisible’ (it is until it’s not).
The differences between Calibri and Aptos are minuscule. Many people didn’t notice. The New York Times framed an article about that, asking if people noticed. Then, it slowly started trickling out that something was different, appearing on forums and in the news. It’s the most recent example of a fontoversy that broke the barrier of professional attention. It was nothing like Comic Sans—it won’t reach the level of some other controversies. It’s about choice and change: ‘I hate it.’ ‘It’s ugly.’ ‘I like what I had before.’
It’s also different because Microsoft weirdly rolled it out as a brand exercise (without admitting it as such). It has all the hallmarks of a brand rollout. Some official explanations were, “We want something new and fresh” and “Calibri is getting old.” People still use Baskerville and other typefaces that have been around for decades. And we also keep redesigning the same typefaces. So the idea that something that is 17 years old is old doesn’t pass the smell test. They also said something about technology for higher-resolution screens. A lot of Microsoft’s explanation is the story constructed around it. The changes between the letterforms are tiny, but the hype around the switch brought more attention to it—attention that benefits the company in a good way without having to make a major change that would likely upset a lot of people.
What iconic logo wordmark do you think is overdue for an overhaul?
The one that comes to mind is GE. I’m torn because it’s so iconic and recognizable, but also so juvenile. To me, it just screams we’ve been doing it a long time, and we’re just going to keep doing it. It existed long before I was born and would definitely benefit from a redesign. But while it’d be exciting to see what happens as an anthropologist, it’s not something I would want to touch as a designer!
It would also be interesting to consider mass transit, playing with the iconic letters that identify the systems, the T in Boston, for example. But that would never happen. During a station renovation a few years ago in the DC Metro, signmakers used the same font [Helvetica after Massimo Vignelli’s iconic M] but a different style [Black instead of Bold]. It still did its job as a wayfinding tool, but people noticed, and the Metro scrambled to fix it.
When Murphy first started talking to typographers and type designers, he explains, “I went into it assuming they are designing fonts for me. But in reality, they design fonts for graphic designers, type directors, and art directors in professional contexts, who then put them to use for people like me. That disconnect between what design professionals think and take for granted and what regular people think and take for granted comes from two different poles but we meet in the middle at type.”
Fonts are vehicles for delivering information and in the case of logos, visual affinity, so the non-designer human doesn’t usually notice unless it causes friction in our lives. “We’re consuming type all the time, and reacting to it, but not necessarily thinking about it,” says Murphy. “Designers and professionals are thinking about and looking at type all the time, but not always from the standpoint of the consumer.”
I confess I didn’t notice Microsoft’s change until I copied some text into a Word document in Times New Roman, producing weirdly large and bossy 14-pt text that the formatting panel informed me was Aptos. After the momentary annoyance, I changed it back and was on my way.
As we easily navigate the web, read transit maps at our subway station, or find our preferred brands on the shelves of a busy big box store, type is an invisible yet powerful force in our lives. But when design causes friction, it becomes an issue. And we’re not shy about telling companies about it.
Keith Murphy is the co-editor of Designs and Anthropologies: Frictions and Affinities (University of New Mexico Press).
Photos courtesy of Keith Murphy.
- Murphy, K.M. 2017. “Fontroversy! Or, How to Care About the Shape of Language,” in S. Shankar and J. Cavanaugh (eds.), Language and Materiality, pp. 63-86. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. ↩︎