Picking Up a Pen Again

Around the end of August, I started writing by hand again for the first time in years.

What prompted it was a Substack post by leafwind sharing JR Lee Radio's video, “The Truth Behind Gen Z's Reversal in IQ: Why Is Educational Technology Hurting Our Children?”. In the original post, leafwind described its main argument as “Handwriting involves a complex environment with lots of signals, and learning is more effective in complex environments.”

When I first started, I kept thinking, “This is so inefficient.” Getting my first laptop in university had amazed me with how much faster typing was than handwriting. Suddenly, I could record so much more. From then on, I was a devoted believer in typing, moving from one note-taking app to the next.

But lately, I've realized that being able to settle down, finish the task in front of me, and deepen my understanding matters more than efficiency.

At first, sitting with a pen and a blank sheet of paper, my phone and computer put aside, I could finally get a clearer sense of what I actually knew. Without my notes app, Google Search, or AI, I discovered how little I could write on my own. It was like flipping through a textbook and thinking I understood everything, only to close it and find I could barely explain any of it.

Whether it's an AI response, Google search results, or my notes, having that information within reach makes it easy to mistake it for knowledge I already possess. But much of the time, I'm just hoarding information without really understanding it, let alone using it.

I'd had a vague sense of this problem for a while, but I hadn't wanted to face it. Stepping away from all that readily available information and admitting how little of it I actually understand is painful.

A while ago, I asked two very experienced software architects how they use AI. It turned out they just write prompts and ask Claude Code or Codex to do things. They don't use a bunch of clever tricks, but they can quickly steer the AI in the right direction.

Using the same tools, I often need several rounds of back-and-forth and multiple chats just to finish a first version. It leaves me feeling that my judgment and grasp of the subject still have a long way to go.

Chasing efficiency is dangerous. Speed matters, but sacrificing thought, understanding, and accuracy for it defeats the purpose.

Part of why I'd resisted handwriting all these years was that I was afraid of losing momentum. I wasn't moving that fast to begin with, but I was still afraid of slowing down. That mindset made me feel as though I was racing ahead, even when I wasn't actually getting very far.

Handwriting has also helped me understand the old saying, “Taking it slow gets you there faster.” Settling down and working through the logic step by step helps me understand things sooner. Frantically producing notes, or going back and forth with AI to read answers I can't yet evaluate, just adds noise and gives me the illusion that I'm working hard.

I've been writing by hand for two months now, and I'm starting to do it less often. I'm finding a more flexible balance between handwriting and typing.

Writing everything by hand still isn't practical. But now and then, I can step away from the screen and let a blank sheet of paper test me.

Whenever I catch myself using typing to hoard information again, I take out a pen and paper and try to put my thoughts in order. The blank page helps me find my blind spots.

It's been useful for interview preparation, too. Facing a blank page feels a lot like being in an interview: without notes or AI to fall back on, how much can I say about what I know and what I've done?

This is something I'm trying lately. It might change again in the future, but that's all part of building who I am. Right now, I need to pick up a pen again.