By James Bennett III
I am sick and tired of all the flak that Comic Sans is given.
Ask any web designer, author or professor which typeface is the worst, and — with the exception of Wingdings — they will almost undoubtedly tell you “Comic Sans” with a smug grin that conveys the sureness of a flat-earther.
Hell, ask any high school student, and you’ll likely get the same pre-programmed response that may as well imply that Comic Sans shot JFK. Middle schoolers are less likely to tell you that Comic Sans is garbage, but take away their WordArt privileges and spend some more time hammering in the thought that 12-point, double spaced Times New Roman was given to us by Christ himself, and they’ll get there. How Kafkaesque.
It seems that elementary schoolers and preschoolers are the only ones that can appreciate Comic Sans for what it is: a perfectly valid typeface that, when applied correctly, can inspire the hearts of millions.
Don’t believe me? What font do you think your elementary school teachers used to decorate their bulletin boards? If your early education was anything like mine, it was Comic Sans. There’s a good chance that your handouts were printed in Comic Sans, too.
There was something magical about that time in our education. There were so many new things to learn, like how to spell your name, what to call the color of an apple, and the simple, happy fact that “Everyone Poops.”
And throughout those important, formative years of our education, Comic Sans was there to cheer us along and greet us with a warm welcome after scraped knees on the playground.
How do you repay that poor old typeface? You dismiss it as a silly little thing to throw rocks at. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves.
By the way, according to the American Institute of Graphic Arts, the British Dyslexia Association and the Dyslexia Association of Ireland, Comic Sans makes reading easier for folks who suffer from dyslexia. So, please, take your precious Helvetica on a long walk off a short bridge – fascist.
Now, I’ll admit, I used to be just like you. Oh yes, I too held Comic Sans to be the lowest of the low — a meme to poke fun at. Real big-brain moves, you know?
Hell, my brother and I outright laughed at our mother when she told us her résumé and cover letter were in Comic Sans. Shameful, I know, but we were so damn sure of our Times New Roman that we failed to consider that she was a preschool teacher whose prerogative was to inspire a love of learning in the hearts of every child who came through her door. For her, Comic Sans was the perfect tool.
With some time and effort, I finally developed this magical little skill that I like to call “critical thinking.” You see, something wonderful happens when you begin to think for yourself and question the rules or facts that have been barked at you since you could understand them.
For example, you might suddenly look in to the fact that many of the people who signed the Declaration of Independence literally owned people while asserting “all men are created equal.” You might decide that America needs better role models. At the very least, you might decide that Thomas Jefferson, who owned more than 600 slaves, wasn’t the best choice for the nickel or $2 bill.
You might also realize that white men aren’t the only people who inhabit the earth and miraculously come to the conclusion that state-sponsored history books probably left out— or blatantly lied about— some key facts.
So, question everything, eat peanuts with the shells on, storm Area 51 and, for the love of all that is good and holy, start treating Comic Sans like it’s worth a damn. Please.
While I agree that someone shouldn’t dogmatically regard a type as bad, back that up. So what if it improves readability among certain populations? Does that make it good? And AIGA is a professional organization, not a source of information, they collect dues and act as a corporation. Make me think about this more. The reasons presented are touching the surface, but they don’t make me care.