Physical print has always been important to me. Every inch of my house is covered with books, newspapers and letters, reflecting my ongoing need for remembering and connecting beyond the digital realm — a realm that can sometimes feel soulless and devoid of intimacy.
As more and more people choose to get information online, I find myself searching for a connection that only physical print can offer amidst the artificial intelligence and psychological decline that the internet is slowly growing amongst the masses.
Newspapers have always acted as a source of mass communication issued daily, weekly or biweekly. The Acta diurna, the forerunner of modern-day newspapers, was created in ancient Rome, posting statements of political and social events. Newspapers maintain the same purpose — to inform and act as a connection within the public sphere.
A few years ago, I remember telling a friend I had joined the Manitoban, expressing my desire and enthusiasm for journalism, to which she had responded with something along the lines of, “Newspapers are dying anyway.” Many people, like my friend, view journalism — especially in the print media context — as a dying venture. I’d like to assert that perhaps it is people who insist it’s “dying,” who are undereducated about its political and historical importance.
Print media has a form of quiet intimacy. It fosters community, whether it’s in the form of book launches, art exhibitions or just reading a newspaper or magazine over a morning coffee. There’s something special in physically holding something that you have helped create.
These outside spheres of third-party locations act as meeting places that facilitate meaningful conversations and intelligence that go beyond arguing with a 56-year-old named Todd on Facebook who insists the world is flat.
The little elements of physicality that come with interacting with art or being in the vicinity of physical or print media create moments of ownership. Whether it’s owning the newspaper or magazine you helped create or being immersed in the creative space and appreciating the time and effort that went into making work you can physically hold, these experiences deepen a sense of connection and value.
Nostalgia also strongly contributes to my longing for physical media. My childhood memories are filled with televisions with fuzzy screens and magazines were a go-to staple for fashion information. I find that people still yearn for the familiarity of these mediums, rather than the unfamiliar feel of a cold screen.
Despite being able to easily find news online, there’s something special about being able to hold it in your hand. I would like to encourage everyone to pick up a piece of print media from your local coffee shop, doctor’s office or bookstore and enjoy the experience of being immersed in something other than your screen.
Newspapers, like all physical media, are important tools of connection. I encourage anyone passionate about writing or creating something bigger than themselves to sign up for an art club or maybe even join their local newspaper if they even have an inkling of interest.
I’d like to end this article by saying how much I’ve enjoyed writing articles this year for whoever reads them. I hope you enjoyed reading them as much as I did writing them. This is Quinn signing off.
