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Writing is unquestionably the most “momentous” of all technical innovations in human history. In contrast to spoken language, which seems “hard-wired” into the human equipment, writing is a software package that requires installation and constant updates. A toddler with something to say will not ask for pen and paper but will use gesture, facial expression, and the interactive array of oral language. As Darwin notes:

“Man has an instinctive tendency to speak, as we see in the babble of our young children; whilst no child has an instinctive tendency to brew, bake, or write.”

In contrast to speech, writing is difficult, unnatural, and even painful, and anyone who teaches university students knows that fifteen or sixteen years of intensive training in the art are usually not enough to master it. Speech is a more or less “natural” endowment of all humans; writing is a technical accomplishment that requires a long apprenticeship.

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– The Marvelous Clouds, pgs. 282-283.

Oh, how I wish writing were as instinctual as speaking. There was many-a-time where I got stuck on how to perfectly word just a single sentence for thirty minutes or more. It was during these times I wished that academic writing were not so restrictive.

So, Let us Talk About History

Throughout history, the sheer importance of writing undoubtedly made the action an innately formal endeavor– or, well, at least that’s my theory. Writing, and simply literacy as a whole, used to be a skill localized to nobles, scribes, religious leaders, and just about any higher position one could think of. The vast majority of the common folk solely used their words, and maybe some pictures as well. Of course, the rich or powerful (the two usually came hand-in-hand) really, really liked being rich or powerful. In order to display how rich or powerful they were, they got the finest forms of educations– because it was something only the rich or powerful could access. The rich or powerful then loved to flaunt their rich and powerful education, and thought it a great idea to write to the fullest extents of their respective languages.

It is no secret religion formerly dominated societies of the past. Some religious leaders held almost the same respect as rulers and Kings, or were sometimes even more revered than the deities they preached about. Becoming a religious scribe was a job that quite literally everyone and their mothers strongly recommended, much like how everyone and their mothers told our generation to learn how to code. Unlike coding, religious scholarhood was a profession that almost always led to success, was oftentimes the most respected form of scholar, and to top it all off: was not getting replaced by fully automated pseudo-intelligent machines anytime soon.

Religious scholars garnered the respect and adoration that our current researchers and scientists do now, or (most likely) more. After all, they were the scribes of the divine, what could be more important than that? Scribing the matters of the very heavens and cosmos took utmost importance, and thus used words that really outlined the sheer important-ness of the important religious matters of paramount importance. The language must be proper, reverent (to their respective divine figureheads), and devoid of a commoner’s crudeness.

Fast forward to today, and the same could be said about any respectable scientific journal: proper, reverent (of their respective scientific field), and devoid of a commoner’s crudeness.

How Does This Relate to Speech?

This is where I argue that speech, even though I do agree it is more innate to the human mind, is as much of a craft as writing is. For example, take a guitar and a violin. A guitar famously has frets that line the guitar’s neck (or fretboard). Press a finger within the lines of a fret– congratulations! No matter where one places their finger inside, the right note plays. A violin, on the other hand, possesses no frets. When one presses their finger down upon the string of a violin, if he or she even has a centimeter deviation– WRONG!!! The ever-so-slightly misplaced finger throws the aspiring violinist off tune. For this reason, the skill floor of a guitar is often considered lower than that of a violin. However, when comparing the skill ceilings of both instruments, both require the same amount of skill and dedication to truly master.

This is how I view the relation between speech and writing. Speech may have a lower skill floor, but has about the same skill ceiling as written word.

Much like learning multiple instruments, one’s eloquence both with the pen (or keyboard, if we want to be more modern) and voice is interdisciplinary. A strong writer has potential to become a strong speaker, and a strong speaker must turn to writing to become an even stronger speaker.

Stuff Sure is Happening Today

Both writing and speaking are inseparably tied to language. Thus, if there is a certain setting that requires formal writing, formal speech is naturally soon to follow. Unfortunately, after a good few centuries (or even millennia if we go back to ancient Sumer), the rich and powerful could no longer gatekeep literacy. Around the early 1800s, towards the tail end of the first Industrial Revolution, literacy rates began to skyrocket, jumping from ten percent or lower to higher than eighty. Fast forward a couple more centuries, and the advent of social media arrives.

If there is a certain setting that requires formal writing and formal speech, social media serves as the best example as a place that almost requires informal writing and informal speech. It is a mass, global communication array that defies the biblical tale of the Tower of Babel. Writing on social media is not tedious, nor does it require copious amounts of thought. Its users are not hunched over hours on end to create some sort of masterpiece, but to willingly subject themselves to Mark Zuckerberg’s endless brain-frying content algorithms.

Added Notes

This passage reminded me of the research papers I needed to read, my experience as a violinist, and the entirety of my AP world history class.

I am sure that is apparent.