Type Fight

I woke the other morning to a request from my journalist friend Lisa for my opinion about the Ikea/Verdana flap. Just up, I was already running late, so rushed off a few lines and promised in-depth analysis later. Turns out, Lisa was on deadline but was happy with what I wrote; I’m quoted in her article here. Like all of us watching a brouhaha about something we hadn’t realised had any great importance at all (in my case, most sporting kerfuffles, diplomatic fall-outs between sister cities) Lisa is bemused about all the attention her article has received. A journalist who most often writes knowledgeably and thoughtfully about food, she’s surprised an article about a typeface ranks #1 on Time Magazine’s Most Read list. I’m sure lots of people are shaking their heads – who knew anyone cared about such things? Hand on mouse, pull down menu, cursor click on Verdana. There. Done. What’s all the fuss? 

Others far more knowledgeable than I have weighed in eloquently with their opinions on the matter. But I’ve a few thoughts directly related to the analogy I drew for Lisa. I wrote that using Verdana is akin to choosing to build a skyscraper with Lego, when steel would clearly be the superior choice. I do think this is true, and stand by my statement that Verdana is dumbed-down and over-used. But, it occurs to me on reflection that perhaps this is precisely the reason why it’s a perfect choice for Ikea. What is Ikea after all but the dumbed-down, over-used Lego of the furniture world? Those of us who come from a world in which type on the page is the end result of a process involving hand-drawn optical scaling, punch-cutting and sensitive kerning might be best to look at what’s really happening here: advertising for low-cost, mass-produced products dependent on third-world labour. When design is working at the behest of advertising, the mandate is to find the best fit between medium and message. Using this metric, Ikea’s decision is genius: Verdana is the Ikea of typefaces – easy, serviceable, cheap. Our protests are as fruitless and misguided as a guild of woodworkers picketing the store with the demand that they abandon the Allen key for the dovetail join.  

So hooray, I say! A noble face has been freed from shameful servitude to an ungrateful master. Will we be handing down our Expedit bookcases and our Stornäs credenzas to our grandchildren? If the state of any of my Ikea purchases is anything to go by, I think not. Quality lasts. Long live Futura!

typography with 4 comments

4 Comments