The Written Word

I read this extract from Plato’s Phaedrus about a discussion that the impact of the invention of writing would have on the future:

Inventor: “My discovery provides a recipe for memory and wisdom”.

King: “You know, Phaedrus, that is the strange thing about writing, which makes it truly correspond to painting. The painter’s products stand before us as though they were alive. But if you question them, they maintain a most majestic silence. It is the same with written words. They seem to talk to you as though they were intelligent, but if you ask them anything about what they say from a desire to be instructed they go on telling just the same thing forever.”

What the king says is partially true: you can’t have a conversation with written text the way you can with a person. But here’s the thing about writing: you can read, pause, think about it and then continue reading. Or go back, re-read and continue.

No prizes for guessing which way we learn more: listening or reading. Listening works well as a starting point, a way to scratch the surface, but even that is true only if the speaker knows the subject and is a good communicator (think TED talks). But most of the time, learning happens only when we pause, reflect and go back to the topic. And writing is the mode best suited for that.

On the flip side, that’s what makes writing so hard: the reader can go back, reflect and find flaws. Which is why Dick Guindon said,“Writing is nature’s way of letting you know how sloppy your thinking is.”