Welcome to Mind Flexing, your weekly thought expedition to everywhere and anywhere. Strap on your boots (or put your feet up), take a deep breath, and let’s get flexing.
My husband and I have just made an agonising decision—we’re about to do away with printed newspapers and subscribe to the digital version of The Age. I know, First World problems; I’m truly grateful to be able to agonise over such trivial issues. But for a former newspaper journalist, please understand, this is a very emotional decision.
I’ll miss hearing the hush of the page when, pressed under my fingertips, it brushes against another, crackling in its mid-air turn before floating down to settle into silence; the fibrous smell of 55 GSM paper, of black ink on my fingers. But most of all, I’m going to miss the way it feels to sit down on a Saturday morning at a table strewn end to end with the weekend paper—its sections, its magazine—and with a coffee warming my hands, enjoy the experience of just being there with the stories. To be honest—I already miss that feeling to a degree. Relaxed moments like that are put on hold when you have very young children.
There’s a clear distinction between how I feel reading printed books, newspapers and magazines compared with the feeling of reading on a screen. I work, research and write on a computer and it’s fair to say that the majority of what I read these days is in a digital format. In this work mindset, I like to sit in my nook at a wide-screen computer with the display set to dark mode.
I enjoy working, but this sort of reading feels transactional—a necessity to process information. For me, the enjoyment of reading will always, unequivocally, be moments in which I’m away from my computer desk, with newspapers spread out across the table, curled up on the couch with a magazine, or in bed with a printed book.
And then there’s the issue of cognition. Our brains process the information we read on paper differently to that which we read on screens. Numerous research studies have found that we’re more likely to comprehend complex topics and remember details when we read information using static, printed materials compared with interactive digital screens. We also have better spatial awareness when we read words on paper, and that’s significant because it helps us form a visual image of the information, like a map that points our memory in the right direction. Some researchers say the simple act of turning a page helps the brain index what it sees, making it easier to recall where in a certain book information was stored. This point is particularly relevant to e-readers (like the Kindle), which aim to mimic printed books. Research has found that those using e-readers (as opposed to computer screens or tablets) understand the text equally as well as those reading from a book, but when it comes to spatial awareness, such as identifying the chronology of the information, book readers performed better. The brain likes paper’s static nature and 3D form; it’s slightly easier to index than flat interactive screens on which words move.
Of course, digital information has its advantages. It’s fast, it’s affordable, it’s convenient and the world will continue to move in this direction whether or not I move with it.
I was surprised to learn recently that the Australian Book Review has more digital subscribers than its print magazine. Based on my own reading preferences, and the fact it’s a literary journal, I would have assumed the opposite. So there you have it, I clearly have luddite tendencies. While the journal sincerely hopes to continue in print, it has warned that the day might come when it is forced to move entirely online. Postage costs have soared and ABR barely (if at all) makes a cent from its printed editions, so the tipping point has appeared on the horizon. A literary journal without paper is indeed a sad thing, and I would surely find myself in the same conundrum as I do now with newspapers.
For a long time, I’ve consumed my weekday news digitally and on Saturday mornings, my husband takes our eldest on a trip into town to buy the weekend paper (there’s no such thing as delivery when you live up a dirt track). This arrangement has worked well, but as newspapers—understandably—start to place more articles behind a paywall, we’re now at the point where we need a digital subscription. And that’s fine, except it doesn’t make financial or environmental sense to drive into town to purchase a printed copy of a newspaper that we’ve already purchased digitally, hence this agonising decision to let go of the printed edition.
The weekend is yet to arrive and I already miss the newsprint. Will I adapt? Or will I cave?
How do you like to read?
The irony of publishing these thoughts on a digital platform isn’t lost on me. Somehow, reading the mostly short stories, articles and essays on the Substack phone app or website doesn’t phase me. So I’m sure I will adjust to reading the weekend newspaper this way. But I’m not going to lie—such reading can’t compete with the enjoyment I get from reading printed books. I’ve only ever read one e-book and that’s because I couldn’t get it in print.
So I’m wondering, do you still read print editions of newspapers? Are you a convert to e-books? And how do you read your digital media—with a tablet, on a phone, with an e-reader or on a computer screen? What’s best? Help me out in the comments.
Things I’ve enjoyed on Substack this week
Saturday Reprise: When Bob Dylan practiced downstairs from my loft—by Lucian K. Truscott IV
This is a wonderful read and one every Dylan fan will enjoy.
Different Emotions In Different Languages—Elif Shafak
A beautifully told insight into the phycology of language in the multi-lingual.
Slouching Towards Maidan—by Adam Nathan
A reminder to us all about the suffering of the Ukrainian people.
Etymology Monday
For those who missed it on Substack Notes, the word of the week was: ketchup
Do you know where it comes from?
Thank you for Mind Flexing with me. If you enjoyed this essay, please subscribe, comment, click the ❤️ button, or share it with someone who would appreciate it. I’ll be back next week. Until then, keep 💪.
I converted to ebooks. Then I converted back. It wasn’t any thing I could put my finger on, and I surely miss pressing on a word and hitting “Lookup” when my vocabulary or knowledge or recall fails me. I suspect a good 75% of it is nostalgia - I am 50+ yo and my reading began very young as a practice entangled with identity, escape, cope, and their needs’ causes. The other 25% is owing to it aiding the practice of “logging off”, and moving myself bodily into other environments than that of screen-glow… come to think, there are “needs’ causes” there too. But, for what it’s worth, and perhaps this is the entanglement of nostalgia, I went from my books being un-dogeared, un-splitspined sanctified (through reading) icons of identity - purchased new, carefully-read, and placed with reverence on shelves - to loving the bedraggled, paperbarked wear-and-tear of some rough-treated secondhand book, folded, scrunched and bag-jammed and often having had close proximity to bath water at some stage in its life. If it’s a cookbook and it’s smeared with ingredients (like my found copy of Nigella’s “…Domestic Goddess”), well, that’s like adopting a rescue dog and embracing all of its unknown history, and all of its “needs’ causes”. A curious wonder. Ebooks… ebooks are a wonder too, and the way something like a nook or a kindle or even an ipad (mini) augment the way our brain works while reading - bookmarking, search, notes, lookups, cross-references, highlights - is perhaps something that augments our abilities the same way calculators enabled time and ability to understand greater mathematical concepts without getting hung short on the drudgework of times-tables. So I in no way belittle or diminish them. But I recognise what I want from books, even if it’s nostalgia and “comfort-food” and “old days”… I recognise what I need, and that in turn helps me recollect and look at my causes. And perhaps get a little bit better.
I hate ebooks and digital newspapers. I feel I'm pushing against the tide on this one. I think we lose something from curating what news we want to look at and that those incidental articles that we read in the (actual) paper are getting lost and our views are narrowing. With books, I love the feel of them, the ability to move back and forwards between pages, dogearring things that catch my eye, pressing them into someone's hands.