Long live Serif fonts

My take

As you can now see, I’ve changed my site fonts to Serif. This may be confusing to anyone who still reads this blog, but allow me to explain:

  • Sans-serif fonts, I argue, are more confusing to dyslexic people than not. Take this example from Reason.com

The size of the font in the CSS, I presume, has made the font so squashed that the i looks like an L. Also, I hate how in sans-serif fonts the capital I does look the same as the lowercase L. Serifs take away this ambiguity.

  • Most academic publications I read use serif fonts, not sans-serif. This is especially true for linguistics, especially because the International Phonetic Alphabet utilizes exclusively a serif typeset.

I don’t need to explain this one.

  • I just like serif fonts better.

This is my blog. I can choose my own darn font. Now please allow me to inject a section written by ChatGPT to help me rise up in muh SEO.

ChatGPT’s take

Ah, the rise of sans-serif fonts—a story of modernity, simplicity, and, let’s be honest, pure marketing overkill. You see, sans-serif fonts didn’t just appear out of nowhere. They became popular in the early 20th century, primarily due to their clean, unadorned appearance that seemed to align with the burgeoning ideals of the modernist movement. The industrial revolution had ramped up, new technologies were making life faster, and sans-serif fonts, with their sharp, minimalist lines, began to represent this new, sleek, and supposedly efficient era.

Think about it: sans-serif fonts scream “cutting-edge,” or at least they did for a while. Helvetica, Arial, and their friends dominated the design landscape in the mid-20th century, when they were hailed as the fonts of the future. They promised clarity, neutrality, and objectivity—fonts that wouldn’t distract from the message but would let the content speak for itself. Web designers were quick to embrace this aesthetic when the internet started gaining steam, and it wasn’t hard to see why. On screens, especially the low-resolution ones we used to have, sans-serif fonts were often easier to read. The minimalism of sans-serif became synonymous with the internet age.

But here’s the thing: somewhere along the way, this obsession with sans-serif fonts went from a sensible choice to an unquestioned dogma. The marketing blitz of tech companies and “design experts” started pushing the idea that sans-serif fonts were inherently better, especially on the web. Clean lines, modern aesthetics, right? It’s as if adding a little flair—a serif, a tail, a hint of calligraphic elegance—would somehow plunge us back into the dark ages.

And that’s where the problems began. Sans-serif fonts may look sharp and futuristic in certain contexts, but for long-form reading, they are a disaster. They lack the nuances, the subtleties that our eyes actually crave when digesting long passages of text. Why do you think books and newspapers have traditionally been printed in serif fonts? Serifs guide the reader’s eye along the line, giving a natural flow to the words. They create subtle visual cues that make it easier for the brain to process large amounts of information without fatigue.

Yet, article after article on the web forces readers to wade through huge blocks of sans-serif text. And the worst part? This choice of font has somehow become default. Whether it’s an academic journal or a blog about making artisan sourdough, sans-serif dominates the web landscape like some kind of Helvetica cult, all in the name of “modernity.” But do we really need to keep sacrificing readability on the altar of minimalism?

Let’s talk about the experience of reading. Web articles today are already riddled with distractions—ads, pop-ups, flashy images, sidebars—so why add another layer of difficulty with font choices that exhaust the eyes? Reading an article online should be a comfortable experience, but too often it feels like we’re being forced into some dystopian vision of “information consumption,” where speed and convenience trump nuance and depth. Sans-serif fonts don’t offer the same visual rhythm that serif fonts do, and this rhythm is crucial, especially in a medium where people are already prone to skimming rather than reading deeply.

Now, if we had a grand renaissance of serif fonts, things would change dramatically. First off, let’s be clear: serif fonts are more than just “old-fashioned.” They’ve stood the test of time for a reason. They’re elegant, sure, but more importantly, they’re functional. Those little strokes and flourishes, the very things that give serifs their distinctive look, provide a kind of visual grounding that makes reading more fluid. With a serif font, the eye naturally follows the line of text without getting lost or fatigued. The small variations in stroke width make it easier for the brain to differentiate between letters, meaning fewer pauses, fewer backtracks, and ultimately, better comprehension.

Imagine if we brought serifs back into the spotlight on the web. Articles would instantly become more readable. And not just readable—they’d be enjoyable to read! People might actually want to finish reading them instead of clicking away after the first few paragraphs because their eyes are tired. A well-chosen serif font can make even dense academic content feel more approachable, more human. It brings back that sense of gravitas, that unspoken message that says, “Take your time, this is worth reading.” Isn’t that what the internet is supposed to be? A vast ocean of knowledge, not a blinking neon sign that screams “Get through this as fast as possible”?

And don’t even get me started on the aesthetics. There’s an undeniable beauty in serif fonts, a certain warmth and depth that sans-serif simply can’t replicate. While sans-serif might work for a tech startup’s landing page, serif fonts evoke a sense of craftsmanship. They tell you that someone cared about how this content would be received. They invite you to slow down, to consider, to appreciate the design as much as the words themselves.

So why not revitalize the serif font? Why not, instead of clinging to some outdated notion of “modern” minimalism, embrace the subtle richness of serifs that has worked so well for centuries? The web is ready for a change.

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