T

The smell of analogue – Dialling back digital


This blog was written on an old typewriter.  It was a lovely experience but, if for any reason, you cannot read the image above, there is a digital version  here.
  1. Lovely Steve. And I really appreciate that you don’t come out with a point of view – for or against – but simply share the experience and allow me to turn it over in my own mind.

    1. Steve Chapman says:

      Thanks Rob. Feels like I’ve discovered time machine to experiment with. I’ve a pen pal now too and typing him a letter, walking to the post box and not knowing when he’ll get it or reply (we agreed we’re not allowed to use tech in between!) is rather special.

  2. Kyle Swanson says:

    Steve, thank you. Your article reminded me of the idea of Conviviality from Ivan Illich and the way he differentiated between tools and machines. Being really lazy and needing to run an errand, I cheated and grabbed this out of wikipedia: “A tool may have many applications, some very different from its original intended use. A tool may be thought of as an expression of its user. The opposite of this is the machine, where humans become its servants, their role consisting only of running the machine for a single purpose.” As I sit here listening to my iphone beep and buzz…I’m seriously wondering if it’s a tool or a machine…filled with machines…

  3. Nick Parker says:

    Ah, lovely Steve. I also have a typewriter, and know this feeling well. Committing to plunging your fingers in between the other keys. Thinking just a few words ahead of where you would normally think, so you’re as sure as possible that the next word you type is the one you really want. The irritating extra-disruptiveness of making a trivial typo which breaks your entire train of thought as you huff about what to do about it. You are right that it’s neither better or worse, but it IS different. (And it smells LOVELY).

  4. Brendan says:

    Hi Steve, many thanks for posting this. I decided to make a career change recently from being a “desk jockey” to retraining as a cabinet maker. What I found hardest in this transition was my initial paralysis and inaction at the workbench due to the realisation that the physical act of making a cut or mark on wood was irreversible, as opposed to my previous freedom to rework and revise PowerPoint, email or other digital outputs. The overwhelming positive for me in my new environment is the daily requirement for immersion “in the moment”, learning to accept the outcome of my action, and finally an understanding the requirement to fully commit to an action. 20 years employed in a corporate function hadn’t prepared me for that!

Leave a comment