Comic Sans got the last laugh

On the morning of July 4, 2012, two big headlines came from CERN, the European Organization for Nuclear Research, in Geneva. The first was that the Italian physicist Fabiola Gianotti had made a significant discovery in quantum field theory. The second was that their PowerPoint presentation about it was done in Comic Sans. Hilarity competed with outrage: critics argued that Comic Sans was a font for children's party invitations that promised fun and games. It was not intended for important particle mass developments. Lisa Randall, the first full professor of theoretical physics at Harvard, sent Gianotti an email with congratulations and the question on everyone's mind: Why Comic Sans? “Because I like it,” Gianotti replied.

Comic Sans has long been the “Macarena” of fonts. Variety lovers don't like it, just like coffee connoisseurs don't like Starbucks. It's the font everyone loves to hate. But I love loving it. I love this more than the font itself idea from Comic Sans: a series of letters that can suddenly fascinate and sometimes annoy people. No other font upsets people as much. When was the last time you had an argument about Garamond or Calibri?

Comic Sans wasn't always so despised. In 1994, Vincent Connare, a typography engineer at Microsoft, designed a program for Microsoft Bob that taught users how to operate their computers. An animated dog named Rover appeared with speech bubbles with helpful tips. Connare thought the font should look friendly, so he designed the letters to resemble the prints of the comic books he had in his office. The letters were not evenly spaced and contained elements that would be considered unacceptable in a formal font; P was not a mirror counterpart of QFor example. “The first idea took minutes,” Connare told me. “I never thought it would be in all caps, so I didn't think about how these weird shapes would work like that. It looks terrible in all caps,” he said. “The joy for me wasn’t in getting it right, perfect, or straight.”

Read: What letters look like

Connare's new letters were not used in the final version of Microsoft Bob; The company stuck with its original choice of Times New Roman. Despite this, Comic Sans escaped into the world. It appeared as an original option in Windows 95, if only because Microsoft did not have to pay for it, unlike many other fonts. Comic Sans proved immediately popular, largely because it looked nothing like anything else – obviously weirder than Arial, Courier New, or any of the others in the then-limited drop-down menu.

Comic Sans came along just as computers were becoming tools for personal expression rather than just boring workhorses, and users wanted fonts to match. The type was of its time: it fulfilled a unique need and then a popular demand, albeit an unintentional, simple one. Writings are the clothes that words wear; Fashion fits the times.

“The magic is that people picked it up on their own,” wrote Tom Stephens, who worked with Connare in Microsoft’s typography department when Comic Sans came out The Guardian. Before home computers and desktop publishing, choosing fonts for posters and invitations was left to the professionals; For better or worse, Comic Sans ushered in the era of amateur choice. “When you use Comic Sans, you're making a statement: 'I'm more relaxed and creative.' I may work in this field, but this job does not define me,” Stephens said. “It’s almost an anti-technology font.”

And then the backlash began. People liked Comic Sans too much. It was used everywhere and on everything—funeral announcements, museum signs—as if fonts had just been invented and Comic Sans was the only choice. Hating Comic Sans became something of a meme. For that we have Dave and Holly Combs, an Indianapolis couple who came together in 2002 over their dislike of the overuse of Comic Sans. Dave suggested that there was only one solution: it had to be banned. With a touch of Internet-age irony, he printed a logo (“Comic Sans” embedded in a red “No Entry” sign) on T-shirts, stickers, and mugs, and the public crusade against the font began.

Read: The Comic Sans Typewriter

“The font wars are raging on the World Wide Web,” said Canada National Post was completed in 2004. The same cycle has played out again and again: Comic Sans is perceived as a provocation and social media attacks. In 2013, the resignation of Pope Benedict XVI was announced. celebrated with a 62-page digital photo album commemorating his travels. The subtitles were in Comic Sans, which caused a Twitter storm. In 2019, John Dowd, a former lawyer for Donald Trump, published a letter in Comic Sans explaining why documents requested during the first impeachment inquiry into Trump would not be released. Another Twitter storm. In 2022, Disney+ viewers discovered they had the option to watch a show with subtitles in Comic Sans. Storm.

An unexpected quality of Comic Sans, like the heroes in the comics that inspired it, is his vulnerability, the feeling that his fate could change at any moment. Even Dave and Holly Combs have changed their minds about Comic Sans. Or at least Dave. Holly still claims it's an ugly font, but in 2019 Dave told the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation that he decided he didn't want “anyone to be mean to anyone” anymore. He changed the message of the “Ban Comic Sans” campaign to “Use Comic Sans.” After a quarter of a century, the backlash appears to be easing. The brave – or foolhardy – among us may even love to love it.

But the future may hold an even better fate for the font: public opinion is turning, not towards it Love but towards meh. In March 2023, The facea British cultural magazine, has done something extraordinary. All of the text – the magazine's name, its interview with actress Halle Bailey, an article about fashion designer Vivienne Westwood – was in a variation of Comic Sans. As The face stated on its website: “Comic Sans always elicits a strong reaction. Whether that's excitement or discomfort, we'll leave it up to you.” The issue's designers added: “Positive feelings toward Comic Sans could be viewed as bad taste, while negative feelings toward Comic Sans could be interpreted as snobbery.” Two key factors define one great font, they wrote: It's not boring and it has staying power. “Our least favorite fonts are the ones that don’t get a reaction.”

But what was most remarkable about the magazine's decision was how little excitement it caused. No storm. The run sold out quickly, but aside from a few reactions on TikTok, the social media comments were about the theme, not the form – Halle Bailey and Vivienne Westwood. Comic Sans was ironic. It was post-ironic. Nobody knew. Nobody really seemed to care either. After 30 years of trouble, perhaps Comic Sans can be just another font in the drop-down menu.

This article was adapted from Simon Garfield's new book. Comic Sans: The Biography of a Font.