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What's behind the human touch
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But might touching words on a printed page vs. reading them online also be relevant to one's comprehension and judgment? Are words consigned to tangible and tactually rewarding paper more likely to register in our minds than those that float on hard tablets subject to the blinkering life span of a battery or extinguishable by a bolt of lightning?
Admit it: You print out the stories you really want to study. Think, too, how differently we consider a handwritten letter vs. an e-mail. Even an e-mail printed out seems more important -- more concrete -- than what we view on the screen. It is, alas, more human.
Part of the pleasure of a real, snail-mail letter isn't only the effort involved in putting words to parchment but also the fact of the letter writer having touched the same piece of paper. The exchange isn't only an act of communication but one of intimacy.
We are all part of this immense digital experiment and we know not where it leads. But the tactile vacuum inherent in the medium can't be insignificant. Offhand, it seems that our technologically enhanced communications, though miraculous in speed and access, have become harder and rougher with the medium.
Reaching out and touching someone has become easier than ever, but we never really make contact. Hunkered over our keyboards, tapping and clicking messages to the vast Other, we have become a universe of lone rangers keeping the company of our own certitude.
Perhaps what the world needs now is a kinder, softer desk chair.


