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Have We Lost the Art of Physical Writing? 

Design by Evan Sun

This era of technology allows us to easily write at any point, anywhere. Gone are the days of lugging around books and paper. With the click of a button we can save our work into the infinite depths of the cloud. iPads attempt to mimic paper and laptops are used for long pieces of writing that used to take hours on a typewriter. The notes app has become our own personal journal, holding our deepest darkest secrets. iOS updates have recently added a feature where an entry can be locked with a passcode. But when the laptop dies, the iPad crashes, and we can’t remember our passcode, what we are left with is the daunting practice of physical writing. While modern technology is both convenient and effective, it simultaneously lacks the permanence that comes with physical writing. Files can get easily lost or accidentally placed in the trash folder. Although modern technology has eliminated the steps that come with physical writing, it has also created new ones digitally. Laptops and iPads must always be accompanied by chargers. If we forget to charge them at night or to bring a charger with us throughout the day, what was once a  convenience can begin to feel disruptive. 

The medium through which we write has a clever way of influencing the way we store knowledge. Studying on a laptop can be efficient, but there is a fundamental difference between learning content on a screen versus paper. Many students may find that it is difficult to recall what was once typed on a keyboard or read on a premade Quizlet flashcard. The process of hand writing your own flashcards or study guides in and of itself is a form of studying. The review of those handwritten notes that comes after further solidifies the content. 

Outside of the classroom, the art of handwritten notes or letters has slowly transitioned to online gift cards or birthday posts on Instagram. You miss the days where your mom used to put cute notes in your lunchbox or your crush wrote you a card on Valentine’s day. Instead, you settle for a three word text and find joy in a heartfelt email. Google Calendar invites lay in our inboxes for weeks at a time. Christmas cards pile up in our junk drawers. The letters we do receive on rare occasions feel too difficult to read, so communicating through emojis, pictures, and two second Snapchat messages appears sufficient. We find that the art of physical writing is lost even in the mundane areas of life. Menus at restaurants make you scan a QR code and you squint at the image of a picture of what could either be salsa or a smoothie. 

While physical writing diminishes, your teachers still insist that you practice it. You take this as a mere suggestion. As you try to annotate your readings you allow music to drown out your thoughts. You circle the word “complacent” over and over, for this is what you have become. The Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library has been regarded as one of Yale’s greatest attractions. So much so that the books in there almost appear to be fake. But when we look at the scripts of Medieval poetry or glance at the Quran, we can’t help but to think about the writers as they crafted their masterpieces.

When we grow bored of the manuscripts, we move on and contemplate just how and why Yale has them. The ethical implications come to mind and we begin to think about our own decisions. Well maybe using AI to write my paper really wasn’t that bad. Maybe Google has all the answers. Turnitin is nothing but a stupid tool that teachers use to make them feel better about themselves.

We must ask ourselves why we are so inclined to technology. Are we slaves to our screens? We click out of the screen time feature because we refuse to see the truth. But we must seek it—- whether that means taking the time to read and write or communicate in person with friends. What will you leave behind when it’s time for you to go? A word document can be manipulated, texts can be deleted. At least with paper, your touch has been there, your script has been there, your tears, stains, and unformed thoughts have been remembered.

With the future of AI and technology, there may come a day where books are entirely edited and revised by a computer program. People may never see an author’s first mark-up of a draft or a screenwriter’s original script. Perhaps this can be replicated in a digital version. For some people, the digital version still holds the same purpose as the physical. For others, the absence of the author’s physical writing in the process diminishes the value of the text. Ultimately, this distinction is subjective. If you find that you enjoy the collections at the Beinecke or the handwritten notes on your essays from teachers, continue to practice the art of physical writing in your life for there is always time to incorporate the practice of physical writing if you have the desire to.

After all, there may come a day where your hidden essays become the inspiration for a whole new world of possibilities.

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