Over the weekend, I had a rare opportunity to indulge in some quiet, contemplative time alone, as my husband had taken the baby to visit family in Hertfordshire for the day. Whenever I contemplate solitary activities of a Sunday, I immediately think of a bedcover strewn with the day’s news, a coffee in hand.
Before the baby, I read the news like most other hot-blooded ex-pats: online. At work, I would skim the latest headlines, whether arts or food or celebrity, and sometimes even delve a bit deeper into ‘local news.’ I was as prolific as my curiosity and natural inclination to chase after the elusive ‘common story link’ would allow. Then I would migrate over to Twitter like everyone else.
My Sunday morning in bed, which consisted of me pouring over choice bits of The Guardian, reminded me of why I prefer to read my news in print as opposed to online. I’m talking about something other than simple design, which, certainly, seems to tell the story of the news itself as it draws your eye across the pages, intimating continuity and reassuring you that time considering a point-of-view article is just as well spent as a foray into foreign policy.
There’s no denying that with print journalism, what you see is what you get. The Internet suffers because of this same equation, since what you see isn’t necessarily all that you can get. And unless you’re well versed in the intricacies of Information Architecture, you probably won’t spend too long searching for something nobody has told you to find. Most websites present a Russian doll of links that, more often than not, lead you astray – leaving you to retrace a trail of breadcrumbs just to find your way out again, let alone the information you came there for in the first place.
Without the benefit of defining sections, colours and other sign posts to tell you where to look next, online news appears as homogonous and infinite as the stars, with no natural beginning or end point, and thus gives us little incentive to plough on. Certainly, I might be more inclined to peruse a cartoon or a review of We Need to Talk About Kelvin if I see it there in front of me. I’m sure these pieces exist online as well, though I probably wouldn’t exercise my clicking finger to find one.
But even apart from these obvious differences, I believe print journalism will always win out over online news on a solitary Sunday morning, even if every news site came up with a clever design to keep me clicking. It’s the same reason why books win out over blogs, conversation over email – there is something tangible there, something that seems to grasp our own intuition and make us feel a part of something larger. There is a sentience in print that simply does not exist online.
I watch my son systematically put objects in his mouth, which is how infants get to grips with not only matter, but information, and the messages we transmit through seemingly innocuous material. The same holds true for print: inside those pages is a discourse so electric, so ‘live,’ that as you peel the fruit down to its stone, you can almost hear the thoughts of those who consume it alongside you from distant bedrooms, cafes, airports. The message is palpable.
Photograph by Alex Barth
Great blog Ms. Mehlmann-Wicks!
And it’s true, it’s all about the tangibles. There is nothing like the physical features of a book or newspapers. Whether it’s gingerly caressing thin fragile pages with every turn; or the masochistic satisfaction of creaks and cracks brought on by breaking the spine, it’s all so physically appealing!
It’s really kinda carnal isn’t it? the pawing and grabbing of paper to satiate one’s written appetite — only to be left feeling dirty from the ink that has left it’s imprint on your person; on one’s clothes… and despite the filth, I keep coming back for more — page after page; page after dirty page. Mmm, print will always beat online.
Good grief; I think I need to find a boyfriend…
It’s so true that “the medium is the message”. With the internet, the message is “instant, connected, efficient”, whereas with paper it’s something like, “slow, real, organic, isolated (disconnected?).”
I’m much more likely to give an article quality time, and to really appreciate the way it’s written, when it’s in print.
Melissa: I think I need a cold shower, myself!
Jonathan: It’s interesting you say that; I was thinking of Marshall McLuhen at one point while I was writing this but stopped just short of mentioning it, mainly because I couldn’t think of how to tie it in without having to go into it too much. It’s true that the Internet makes information feel current, as it’s constantly changing and updating, and we’re certainly plugged-in in the sense that we’re able to take part in the discussion via comments, and even influence the writing itself. I’m not sure I would say that print gives me a feeling of disconnection, though. Mainly I feel like I am taking part in the imortalising of ideas. (If that doesn’t sound too pretentious.) That said, I find it far more difficult to write something if I know I can’t just whack it up online for all to see. Publication is a bit of a black hole into which some of my most painstaking creations have disappeared.
What an interesting piece, enjoyed reading that. I think the internet has really affected my reading and has heavily influenced my ability to focus attention spans. Seriously! Over the years I have read newspapers/magazines less and less, and have become overly reliant on copious amounts of internet material. I am so used to reading snippets here and there, I actually found myself beginning to struggle with concentrating on more dense print media. Although I am rectifying this now! At the end of the day, I like to curl up in bed with a book etc. but I can’t do this with a laptop. Or at least, the wires get in the way!
Thanks Sian. It’s true too – online is simply more convenient than carrying around a big, awkward paper, and it probably fulfills the MTV attention span most of us were brought up to have. I used to work with someone who read the paper at lunchtime. Very old skool, though he was a quite a bit older, so I guess he couldn’t help it. I did admire him for that, and tried countless times to remember to at least pick up a Metro, but alas, old (new) habits die hard.