Does Writing Have a Future? by Vilem Flusser discusses how the advances in technology may one day cause writing to be obsolete and unnecessary for most, used only by historians and other specialists. While Flusser may be correct in this theory, he also discusses how the importance of writing is not one that can be done away with. He states, rightfully so, that “Writing cannot just be overcome.” (Flusser, 21) I agree with this, and would like to expand on it further.
One thing that made me somewhat uneasy, is Flusser’s claim that many people will be hesitant to learn the codes of the future, not because they believe it to be unnecessary, but because they are lazy, and have a sort of superiority complex, feeling as though written words are superior to that of technological ones. While I agree with the latter statement, I believe that it is wrong to say that people will feel this way due to laziness, nobility, or because they think themselves as superior. Writing, just as any art form, is the process of expending artistic and creative energy. It can not, and should not, be exchanged for a new platform, whether or not that new platform makes it easier to get ideas across to an audience. There are various other artistic forms that are constantly gaining new mediums to make it more accessible and easier for the artists. However, while that may be the case, the artists who are introduced to that new medium are not going to reject the old methods because it’s not as easy to use. Take painting, for example. Oil paints have been around since the Renaissance, while acrylic paints only began to surface around the ’30s or ’40s. While many artists use acrylic paints because they are easier to manipulate and put on canvas, there are many who still use oil paints, the older medium, because that is their preferred method of expression.
The same can be said for writing. Although new media platforms are high on the rise, writers who write for creative purposes will be hesitant to use them. Not because they think that they are superior to these new platforms, but rather, because these new methods do not help them express themselves creatively, and they have little to gain from speaking into a microphone.
Additionally, Flusser speaks in depths about the old form of writing, or inscription, in which people carved words into clay or marble. He makes the important distinction between mediums that made inscription laborious, such as bronze or marble, versus mediums that made inscription somewhat easier, such as clay. He notes that writing which remained legible for a longer period of time was engraved upon the more difficult medium, while writing that faded quicker was inscribed upon the easier medium. When reading this, I can’t help but think of things that are easy to write about, and compare them with things that are difficult to write about. Things that are easy to write about are somewhat like carving into clay. The words come out smoothly and quickly, but they don’t necessarily have everlasting importance or significance. Things that are difficult to write about, on the other hand, don’t come out as easily. There may be jagged line breaks, or pauses where the writer needs to catch his breath before continuing, as the effort of writing something that is painful can be laborious. However, this writing is far more significant than something that is easy to write. When a piece like that is finished, like marble, it does not fade as quickly. It is long lasting and important.
Seeing as things that are difficult to write about, or inscribe, can be strenuous, imagine how long someone who carved words into marble must have thought about each word before etching it. Imagine how they must have thought about the significance of each word before beginning the process of chiseling it into stone. One wrong word, one wrong letter, would make the entire piece obsolete, the entire backbreaking task meaningless. Now, while the process of writing may be easier than carving words into stone, the task itself can still be hard, as mentioned above. We still need to take pauses at times, seek a word that will better suit our needs, even with the luxury of the backspace button. Imagine, for a moment, a time when we wouldn’t need to search for the perfect word(s). Imagine, for a moment, a time when words appeared as quickly as the mind could imagine them, simple codes taking away the need to ponder anything significant. That wouldn’t be something helpful, but rather a form of thievery. Thievery of the arts, thievery of the words that are difficult to write, but that are important nonetheless. Art like that wouldn’t be significant, nor would it be long lasting. It would be temporary and unimportant, fading as soon as the next big technological ‘advance’ erupts.