The
It is the projection of blueprints, isometric strategy games, and CAD packages: a wall ten metres back looks exactly as tall as the same wall up close, and parallel lines stay parallel. No vanishing point, no foreshortening — just honest, measurable sizes.
After the view transform, the slab of space the camera can see is an axis-aligned box: the
horizontal extent
Step 1 — slide the box's left edge to zero. Subtract
Step 2 — scale the width to
Step 3 — stretch to width
Step 4 — check the endpoints. At
Step 5 — separate the scale from the translate. Expand and regroup so the
affine shape
Step 6 — repeat per axis. The
Step 7 — note the conspicuous absence. Nowhere does
An architect's elevation drawing would be useless with perspective: you measure a door off the page with a ruler, and that only works if a metre at the back of the wall is drawn the same length as a metre at the front. Orthographic projection guarantees it. The same property is why a top-down strategy game uses ortho (or its cousin, isometric) — two identical tanks must read as the same size whether they sit at the top of the map or the bottom, so you can compare your army at a glance without distance lying to you.
The trade is realism: with no foreshortening the scene looks flat, like a technical diagram
rather than a photograph. When you want distance to shrink things — a first-person
camera peering down a corridor — you need rays that converge to a point, which is the
Two identical crates sit in camera space at different depths — one near, one far. Drag the depth gap slider to push the far crate further back. Under orthographic projection the parallel rays (the dashed guides) carry both crates straight onto the screen plane at the same width: the rendered outlines stay exactly equal no matter how far apart in depth they are. That is the whole personality of ortho — distance changes nothing about size.