This was published 11 months ago
Opinion
In an increasingly digital world, this is why a real book still feels so good
Shona Hendley
WriterAs I looked around me on a recent day out, I observed a classic image of an Australian summer. Swimsuit-clad people of all descriptions lying on their towels at the beach, kicked back, relaxing and reading a good book.
But in some dystopian twist and as if some mass evolutionary change had taken place, there wasn’t a paperback in sight. Instead, they were all reading from Kindles.
While the sight of so many people reading was lovely, the absence of any physical books – aside from the one nestled in my bag – had me stunned and feeling inferior. Like I was some sort of literary alien inadvertently invading a foreign terrain where I didn’t belong.
But even in an ever-growing digital world, the truth is I, like millions of others, still prefer reading physical books.
In 2023, the Association of American Publishers reported that paperback and hardback books made up over 68 per cent of consumer book sales, with ebooks at just over 12 per cent, and audiobooks at 11 per cent.
While ebooks and audiobooks have risen in popularity since their relatively recent introduction, sales of printed texts continued to grow rapidly throughout the pandemic. In Australia, physical book sales reached a new high in 2022, according to Nielsen BookScan.
Aside from the nostalgia factor, there are a number of good reasons the printed word continues to endure.
For starters, research shows that we take in printed text more effectively than digital or audio text. Assessing almost half-a-million participants, the University of Valencia study found that reading print texts improves comprehension six to eight times more than digital materials.
Then, there’s the physical element of the experience. Personally, there is nothing more sensorially satisfying to me than a printed book. From the smell of freshly printed pages or aromas absorbed from other readers, to the feeling the worn pages, the texture of the paper stock on your fingers, the slick matte covers or embossed sleeves, the rough fabric of the classics.
Audibly, there’s the rustle of pages turning, covers closing, the quiet creak of top corners being dog-eared in lieu of a bookmark, the sound of a fresh spine being cracked when you reach the halfway mark.
This experience alone is something an ebook can never recreate. It’s also an experience scientific evidence shows that, as humans, we crave.
Since the 1980s, scientists have extensively studied the benefits of printed texts, including the tactile experience reading has on the human brain, with results overwhelmingly showing that physically printed texts prove superior.
As the Scientific American notes, “evidence from laboratory experiments, polls and consumer reports indicates that modern screens and e-readers fail to adequately recreate certain tactile experiences of reading on paper that many people miss and, more importantly, prevent people from navigating long texts in an intuitive and satisfying way”.
The physiological and psychological benefits of physical touch are also well-researched.
Considering touch is the first sense to develop in the womb, and the first interaction we have at birth, it’s hardly surprising that we are innately tactile creatures, and ones who seek out physical experiences that we associate with relaxation and comfort.
What’s more, decades of research shows that positive physical touch can reduce stress, release positive hormones like oxytocin, improve sleep, help us develop a sense of self, reduce heart rates and decrease our blood pressure.
The turning of pages and reading from top to bottom, left to right, creates a calming rhythm that, in contrast, ebooks can’t create. Many e-readers simulate a swiping effect similar to smartphones, and reading on smartphones is often interrupted with alerts, or sleep rhythms can be disrupted by screen brightness.
Another component that perhaps at first glance may seem minor but has been cited as a benefit by many readers, is the ability to physically flip back and forth within a text. Whether this is when a sentence served as a reminder of something that occurred previously, reading ahead in a text, or even highlighting or taking notes in margins of the text – this control over the reading experience directly enhances a reader’s experience.
But it was what happened as I opened up my physical book at the beach that sealed the deal for me. Stretching out on my towel to join the other readers, I heard the disgruntled yelling of a mother in a nearby beach tent before seeing her toddler had accidentally knocked a bucket of water all over her non-water-resistant e-reader.
And with that, I no longer cared about being a literary alien because I knew that while not ideal, if splashed, at least my pages would dry.
Shona Hendley is a freelance writer based in Victoria.
The Opinion newsletter is a weekly wrap of views that will challenge, champion and inform your own. Sign up here.