WASHINGTON, D.C. — In a sweeping act of leadership that many are calling "at least technically a policy," Secretary of State Marco Rubio has ordered American diplomats to abandon the sans-serif menace of Calibri and return to the righteous dignity of Times New Roman in all official communications.

The move, framed as a restoration of "decorum, professionalism, and tradition," marks the administration's most concrete accomplishment to date in the ongoing struggle against things that are easy to read.

"Typography shapes the professionalism of our work," Rubio wrote in a solemn cable that will now be remembered as the Lexington and Concord of the Font Wars. "Times New Roman tells the world that America is serious again, unlike that casual little diversity experiment we were doing with Calibri."

Diplomatic sources confirmed that the same world still remains on fire in every measurable way, but added that the memos describing those fires will once again look like they were printed out for a 1997 book report, which is apparently the gold standard of statecraft.

'When You Can't Fix the World, You Fix the Font'

A senior State Department official, speaking on condition of anonymity because they still foolishly care about their career, described the order as "pure self-help doctrine."

"Look, this is the government version of that 'make your bed in the morning to become a Navy SEAL' thing," the official said. "You may not be able to repair decades of bad foreign policy, but you can change the font and tell yourself you're a person who gets things done. It's the little wins that count. History won't remember the peace deals we failed to sign, but it will remember that under Marco Rubio, every boring government PDF started cosplaying as a 1920s newspaper."

Within hours of the memo leaking, self-described vintage-obsessed neurodivergents and font nerds across the country reportedly rejoiced, vowing to start collecting fresh government documents "because if the republic is going down," as one put it, "I at least want the collapse archived in a typeface that matches my suspenders and manual typewriter."

Accessibility? Never Heard of Her.

Calibri, adopted under the previous administration because it was easier to read for many people with visual impairments and learning differences, will be airbrushed from future documents the way awkward uncles vanish from family Christmas photos.

"Times New Roman is harder to read on screens, sure," said Dr. Lila Carraway, a fictional but highly credible professor of Typographic Politics at the University of Fonts That Matter. "But that's also part of the message. It says, 'If you really cared about this country, you'd squint.' Accessibility is for people who aren't committed enough to decipher diplomatic briefings as if they were Dead Sea Scrolls."

Carraway explained that fonts often become emotional support animals for insecure empires—the weighted blanket of declining superpowers.

"When a ruling class can't fix the big stuff — wars, inequality, climate, basic competence — they start rearranging superficial symbols and calling it virtue," she continued. "It's like painting racing stripes on a car with no engine. It doesn't move any faster, but from far enough away, it looks like someone did something."

Nostalgia: Now With 100% More Lead Paint

Supporters of the move say returning to Times New Roman is about "getting back to what worked," the same phrase historically used to defend tariffs that wrecked trade, economic theories that lit recessions on fire, and social policies that treated half the population as unindicted co-workers.

"Reactionary nostalgia is basically the idea that if something was around before color television, it must be morally superior," said Carraway. "If they could, these people would bring back lead paint, asbestos, and dial-up internet just to show the world they're serious about tradition."

One senior political adviser reportedly floated an even bolder follow-up initiative: replacing PowerPoint with overhead transparencies and Sharpie-bleeding flip charts "to reconnect with the analog roots of American greatness."

The New Meritocracy: If You Can Read This, You Deserve Rights

In the memo, Rubio framed the rollback as part of a broader effort to dismantle DEI and "restore merit-based standards," a phrase which here appears to mean "making sure some people have to work harder to read the same sentence as everyone else."

"Nothing says 'meritocracy' like choosing a harder-to-read font and then declaring that anyone who struggles with it just doesn't measure up," said another fake expert, Dr. Nolan Reyes, who claims to study "performative toughness in declining empires."

"When the government announces that it is both abolishing accessibility efforts and returning to a typeface designed for print newspapers, what they're really saying is: 'If your eyes hurt, that's between you and the invisible hand of the market—the invisible hand of ophthalmology.'"

Reyes paused, then added, "It's a perfect Carlin bit in real time: the people who keep talking about 'merit' are the same ones stacking the deck and then bragging about how naturally gifted they are at playing."

Life Inside the Serif Restoration

Inside the State Department, rank-and-file staff are adjusting to the new reality where nothing of substance changes, but all of their briefings now look like they were typed by an overachieving 10th-grader.

"I joined the Foreign Service thinking maybe I'd help prevent a genocide or rebuild a shattered region," said one mid-level desk officer, flipping through a freshly re-formatted crisis report. "Instead, my main impact so far is changing the default style in a document template. I'm basically a very expensive 'Select All, Ctrl+Shift+F' macro with health insurance."

He shrugged.

"To be fair, this is the first policy I've seen in months that we actually implemented on time. The missiles are late, the aid is late, the peace talks are late — but buddy, these serifs were deployed same day. If we ever fight a war that can be won with letterforms, we're ready. First successful same-day government deployment since the invention of the fax machine."

One Voice, Zero Ideas

Officially, the change is being sold as part of a "One Voice" doctrine for American foreign policy — a unified, professional look that tells the world the United States is serious, disciplined, and definitely not collapsing in slow motion.

Critics argue that if America truly wanted to send a message of unity and strength, it might try something wild like coherent strategy, consistent values, or honoring its own stated principles.

"But that's the thing about symbolic politics," said Carraway. "When you can't fix the engine, you chrome the tailpipe."

For now, the department's cables, memos, and unread PDF attachments will march forward in stately Times New Roman, dignified and slightly harder to decipher — a perfect metaphor for an era in which nothing gets fixed, but everything gets formatted.

Historians say they'll need more time to judge the full impact of Rubio's font coup. But one thing is already clear: when the chapter on this period is finally written, it will probably still be in Times New Roman — and it still won't read any better than the policies behind it.

At press time, the Secretary of State was reportedly considering a follow-up initiative to ban Comic Sans from birthday cards at embassies, calling it "the last vestige of diplomatic weakness."