Tracing the history of typography would take going back a long way—all the way to the 15th century to be exact, a time when typographers still used wooden letters and composing sticks, and strove to replicate hand-drawn lettering as faithfully as possible. Typography has since lost some of its noble lustre and has even been downgraded—from an art form to a mere formality.

Typographical adaptations and the more or less voluntary abandonment of certain style conventions began with the advent of new technology. Economic conjecture is also partly to blame for inflicting major production budget cuts, which ultimately slashed the time allocated to each project. The easiest fat to trim is obviously in the little finishing touches, the things your average Joe wouldn’t even notice. In short, you can get away with a lot when it comes to style conventions.

Typography is the vehicle by which a message is conveyed from the source to the target. It is also the attention to detail, the balance that makes printed texts flow and easy to decipher. Say what you will, but typography is an art that flirts with the pinnacle of manuscript aesthetics and plays a primordial role in graphic culture.

It is said that typography is the Achilles heel of computers. The death of the style guide is loudly trumpeted, and the lax rules governing the art are widely lamented.

But on the flip side, we might also say that typography and its style guides are simply reflections of a society in flux, a society where things we thought were a given will inevitably  evolve. And—just like language—they will do just that, change without ever really disappearing.

Even if we can’t ignore the facts, is there no other way to look at the issue? Couldn’t we simply talk about the mutation of style guides and not their outright disappearance?

The question is begged: Couldn’t we?