In 1957, a Swiss type foundry called Haas commissioned a designer named Max Miedinger to modernize an older typeface called Akzidenz-Grotesk. Miedinger's brief was simple: make it cleaner, more neutral, more universal. The result was first called Neue Haas Grotesk, but the name was terrible for export. In 1960, it was renamed Helvetica — Latin for 'Swiss.'

Helvetica's design is almost aggressively empty. The letters have barely any personality — no flourishes, no decorative terminals, almost uniform stroke width. This was deliberate. Miedinger believed type should not interrupt the reader. A perfect typeface would be invisible, carrying meaning without adding any of its own. Helvetica got very, very close.

The reach is hard to overstate. American Airlines, Jeep, Microsoft, Target, BMW, Lufthansa, Toyota, Panasonic, 3M, Nestlé — all Helvetica logos. The New York City subway system replaced its old signage with Helvetica in the 1980s and never looked back. IRS tax forms, European ID cards, NASA Space Shuttle markings. When Apple designed the original Macintosh in 1984, Helvetica was one of the two typefaces shipped with it.

There is, of course, a counter-movement. Designers argue Helvetica is so neutral it became complicit — used to make corporate messaging look inevitable and authoritative. A 2007 documentary called 'Helvetica' examined the typeface's role in shaping what we consider 'professional.'

But the fact that the argument is possible at all is remarkable. How often do you look at a typeface and notice it? That's Helvetica's masterpiece — being seen a billion times a day, and registering almost nowhere.