Typeface

As

Programme

Like many disciplines dependent on technology for execution or production, type design has undergone a series of fundamental revolutions and transitions in the past century. Driven by technological advance, this process has completely changed the way people work with type, to the point where someone employed in the field had to adapt to a significantly changing situation multiple times throughout a career. At the beginning of the transition there was the 19th century hot metal typesetting with its very complex and expensive mechanised equipment invented by Monotype and Linotype. A period of opto-mechanical photocomposition systems followed in the 1950s and 60s, in which printing with cast letter-forms was replaced with exposure of optical outlines on spinning disks of glass onto light-sensitive paper. This was soon replaced again by the digital simulation of similar processes, formulated in computer programs and executed first by huge room-filling installations and later by affordable home computers.

The advent of computer technology and the digital revolution had similar impacts on many other creative fields, such as graphic design, photography, film editing, or audio recording, with changes often similar in nature. Highly expensive equipment was made redundant by computer technology running software that simulates the same processes. The software and the user interfaces often use metaphors from within the field, known from the time before the revolution, and the role of the computer is that of a machine simulating other machines or processes as a sort of a meta-tool. Even today, software is largely defined as that, and therefore computers function mostly as replacements for previously existing processes, the type-writer and postal service being two of the most common examples.

The digital revolution, echoing its impact across creative fields, rendered highly expensive equipment obsolete by simulating traditional processes through computer technology and software.

In the creative sector, this also led to a change in the nature of the work being done, often to the disapproval of the previous specialists in the field. While type design in the 19th century was a craft accessible to very few selected typographers, who together with punchcutters worked on designs for one of the companies producing typesetting equipment, it is now a discipline that anyone who has access to a computer and a licence for a type design software can engage in.

These are generally known aspects of this revolution that have been looked at closely many times before. But the role of software is rarely analysed beyond this point. It appears that the general function of the computer is still accepted simply as a simulation machine, and the question what software could or should provide in any given field is rarely raised. Instead, the status quo is often accepted as a given, a language we use in our daily work and that we have stopped questioning, since it is so ubiquitous that is it almost invisible.

Traditionally, a font was a complete set of metal characters of a particular typeface in a given size and style. Etymologically, the word goes back to the French word fonte and the verb fondre, meaning to melt or to cast, referencing the way fonts were produced by type foundries. Fonts were one of the ingredients needed in the printing process in order to be able to print text, and they were bought in full sets from the foundries. A set included more copies of some letters than others, depending on the statistical occurrence of each letter in any given language. The structure of the letter cases that hold the letters represented this distribution. A font was not a full, independent tool in itself, but rather a part of a tool-based process which, without it could not take place. Given its physical nature at that time, it is imaginable that fonts were perceived as tools in themselves. At the same time they could also be seen as an artwork designed by a typographer and executed by a punch cutter.

Today, digital fonts are legally defined as software, once again as the digital counterpart of a tool. This has broad consequences for the way fonts are distributed and sold, and the way type designers are earning their money, since licensing schemes similar to the ones found in software applications are in place: the End User License Agreements (EULA) entitle the end users of fonts to install them on a defined number of computers within the same household or office. The degree of usage of the font in this case has no impact on the price. As soon as the user has bought the license, he owns the right of usage within the defined boundaries and therefore can use the font as a tool as much as he likes, as long as he does not infringe the rules of the agreement. This might lead to absurd situations, for example when in certain circumstances a big newspaper may pay the same amount of money for a font that is printed in thousands or even millions of issues daily as a small graphic design office that uses the font once for a client’s job. Both buy the basic right to use the font as a tool for whatever they need it for, and the creative work in the typeface is unaccounted for.

An alternative way of defining typefaces is as library or a family of graphical shapes (glyphs) along with rules that describe how to assign these to letters and symbols (character encoding), and how to adjust the space between them (letterspacing and kerning). If this definition was used legally, another system would suggest itself: one based on royalties, as in the music industry or applied photography, both fields where an artwork or a composition is licensed for specific media based distribution. The licensing costs then mostly depend on the duration of the segment, the size of the image, visibility, distribution, etc. Specific associations claim these royalties and distribute them among their members, enforcing copyright law and ensuring rights of authorship for the protected works.

Such authorship based systems are not necessarily a viable way for typefaces, as they have their own share of problems in the digital age, namely software piracy and the limitations of systems that try to prevent it. Digital Rights Management (DRM) as a possible solution proposed by big corporations is in the process of failing and is mostly being abandoned at the moment of writing, since the consumers are not willing to follow the rules they force upon them. Nevertheless it remains curious that this legal definition as software has become the standard for fonts, especially since there is little evidence that digital typefaces actually really require to work as software.

It is important to note that technically this definition is correct, as the technologies used today for the digital definition of typefaces, such as PostScript or TrueType, do hold qualities of software and programming languages, adding to the complexity of this discussion. PostScript for example is a so-called page description language developed by Adobe Systems Inc. for the specific task of describing layouts consisting of images, graphics and text. In order to offer the greatest flexibility and future scalability, it was designed as a full-featured programming language. Type 1 defines the type-specific aspects of this language, and just like the rest of PostScript, typefaces in PostScript are formulated as sequences of program code.

Similarly TrueType uses program code to describe glyph hinting for rasterisation at small sizes and low resolutions, and the OpenType standard includes a simple language for dynamic glyph replacement. But since these codes mainly deal with graphical shapes and lists of sizes and spacing between characters, it is questionable if digital fonts really should be considered software in nature. One could argue that even the more advanced features like hinting or dynamic glyph replacement could all be achieved otherwise, for example through static tables that describe rule-based approaches.

The recent introduction of a new open font format named Unified Font Object (UFO) that is entirely based on XML descriptions further suggests that most font information can be stored without being written as software, since XML is a descriptive markup language like HTML, not a programming language.

• PostScript is a page description language developed by Adobe for describing layouts with images, graphics, and text.
• TrueType uses program code for glyph hinting in rasterization at small sizes.
• OpenType includes a language for dynamic glyph replacement.
• UFO is a new open font format based on XML descriptions.

Another line of reasoning is that, if typefaces were full software, they would not have to rely on a computer operating system (OS) and its underlying typesetting mechanisms. Just like the metal fonts that were an ingredient for a typesetting-machine, the digital fonts are data for a host software that knows how to read it and lay it out. So if typefaces are legally defined as software, but are not currently behaving like software, this raises questions:

The process of digitalisation and computerisation of type-oriented technology is probably a never ending one since new innovative approaches are continuously being found for how to draw and produce type designs. Yet the most fundamental changes and revolutions in the field have happened, and the process of software standardisation is largely completed.

At the beginning of this process, there was the question of how typesetting is best represented in software and executed or output by printing devices. With the introduction of pixel-based display technology such as CRT monitors, there was also the problem of how to represent glyph outlines appropriately on such low resolution devices and not lose the font’s main characteristics. There were many different proposals, and through a slow process of selection and advancement, some of them were abandoned while others merged and became standards.

This exciting time of technical innovation has lead to many different efforts and resulting systems, but now at the end of this process of standardisation, there is primarily one system the whole industry is focused on: the previously mentioned OpenType, a standard coined by Microsoft together with Adobe Systems as a result of the “Type War” between Apple’s TrueType standard and Adobe System’s PostScript. Microsoft, who previously licensed the TrueType technology from Apple, decided to move ahead and create their own standard based on TrueType in the early 1990s, after negotiations with Apple to license their advanced typography technology called “GX Typography” failed. Adobe Systems joined in 1996 and added support for the glyph outline descriptions based on its PostScript’s Type 1 fonts. In 2005, OpenType started migrating to an open standard under the International Organisation for Standardisation (ISO) and the process was completed in 2007 when it was accepted as a free, publicly available standard.

But there is a rather large niche in which one of the other proposals from the period of early digital type technology has survived until today: the typesetting system TeX (with its spin-off project LaTeX, a collection of macros to simplify TeX) and its font system Metafont, used mostly in academia, especially in the mathematics, computer science, and physics communities.

Both TeX and Metafont were conceived and designed by highly acclaimed computer scientist Donald E. Knuth as a solution to the problem of typesetting complex mathematical formulas and more generally scientific publications. TeX has been noted as one of the most sophisticated digital typographic systems in the world. TeX (and therefore LaTeX) have adapted to the same wider spread font standards mentioned above. Nevertheless Metafont is still relevant, as it is largely unknown in the domain of type design and has a history that is still of interest for more recent experiments in programmatic type design based on the principles of parametric variations.