The Latin O's descent, from Phoenician ayin, meaning eye, through Greek omicron, is covered elsewhere in this atlas. As a piece of writing history, O is remarkable chiefly for how little it has changed: Phoenician ayin was already drawn as a simple circle representing an eye, and every subsequent script that borrowed it, Greek, Etruscan and Latin alike, kept the same plain circular outline, making O very likely the single most graphically stable letter in the entire Latin alphabet across roughly three thousand years of continuous use. Both the capital and lowercase O are, in most typefaces, simply the same circle at two sizes, unlike letters such as A or G whose upper and lower case diverged structurally over the centuries.
Because a circle carries no strokes to add or drop, O never generated the kind of shape splits, I and J, U and V, C and G, that reshaped several of its neighbours, and it was never pressed into service as a Roman numeral or into any of the graphic modifications, ascenders, descenders, loops, that mark the medieval and Renaissance history of most other Latin letters. The one modern complication is not historical but typographic: because O and the digit zero can look identical in many typefaces, printers and type designers have developed conventions such as a narrower oval for zero or a slash or dot through its centre, a distinction with no ancient precedent, since Rome's own numeral system, discussed elsewhere in this atlas, had no symbol for zero at all.