Please don’t bother reading this. It is worthless …

 … because, its digital.

It isn’t printed!

In the age where digital thought leadership floods our inboxes and news feeds every day, have you ever wondered why we value the views of Malcolm Gladwell, the theories of Daniel Kahnemann, and the inspirational characters of Hemingway?

Because we read them in a book.

We take pride in our familiarity with the printed word, in referring back every now and then to War and Peace, and The Fountainhead that lies an arm’s length away on our desk, every time we need a quote to use in a speech.

But we’re told by the pundits of the digital world that books and the words they curate have lost their worth. No one has the time to read them any more. Keep it short. From the publisher’s perspective, books are expensive to produce, inconvenient to carry around and store.

Going by their posts, even the most prolific LinkedIn and Medium authors nurture that secret, and sometimes not so secret desire to write a proper book. Deep inside, they know that they are only feeding our current fascination for instant inspiration. But are they creating long lasting value 

There is almost no halo effect of the digital word. And it’s not only about the author. Digital files are weightless, filed away in an external hard drive, occasionally forwarded and almost impossible to find a month later.

Besides which, you never really own an e-book; all you do is pay for the right to access data. Have you ever been asked in a job interview the question, “So which is the last piece of digital thought leadership that inspired you?”; or “Who is your favourite LinkedIn commentator?” No, never. The question is always, “Which is the last book you read?” Amazon.com may have complex algorithms that determine our choices and direct you to one-click ordering of a Kindle book, but that can never replace the learned, trusted recommendation of a librarian or a book store attendant, and the feeling of walking out with a paper volume in your hand.

At the dawn of the e-commerce revolution in China, Louis Vuitton learned to their cost the true value of the “white gloves” treatment in-store as their products – and so too their brand – started to lose value as people absent-mindedly ordered their goods online.

And so it is (or might be) with the written word; more precious than a handbag, mightier than the sword, more layered than a tweet and more thought-evoking as a gift than a bunch of flowers (yes Interflora…try amping it up and saying it with written WORDS not flowers!)

The entire process of thinking, researching, constructing and weaving a story, writing it down, running it past editors, co-workers, critics, editors, family and publisher serve a more rewarding, granular, singular purpose: of creating long lasting value. And people are fascinated by, envious of book authors. Just mention in a party that you’ve written one – and watch how their interest shoots up. “What is it about?” “How long did it take?” “How did you ever find the time to write?” “Where can I get a copy?” 

Books, unlike digital pdfs, blogs or posts are never about instant shareability. They stand the test of time and of voyages. They rest on the bedside. They own the shelves they sit upon and they have leaves, petals and shopping receipts tucked inside as bookmarks – reminding you of places, events many years ago.

Books possess the quality of scarcity, which means that your copy if unique at some level. Even the act of sharing is imbued with the still-significant ritual of trust: will my friend return it, and in what condition? Books are an experience, as much for the author as for the reader. As David Ulin writes in ‘The Lost Art of Reading’, reading is a revolutionary act, an act of engagement in a culture that wants us to disengage.

You remember where you bought your favourite books. Only a few years ago, you queued up with your child to get your hands on the latest Harry Potter, didn’t you?

We have kind of thrown the baby out with the bathwater on books. All forms of communications have a vital place in making the world go round but flicking someone and email to say thanks (or worse, a Facebook message) carries a fraction of the weight and meaning as a handwritten card, written, sealed and posted.

When did you last walk into someone’s office lined with empty shelves and use that to start painting a mental picture of the occupant?

Walking into a room lined by books, not only is the first thought running through your head “Good heavens, s/he is so well read!”; the very next moment you are scanning the spines in a test of your own erudition.

As repositories of our thinking, books can also intimidate. Because you think about writing in a more permanent medium, we have to assume that what you write is worth more.

What do protestors do when they violently disagree with your point of view? They burn books. When a colleague recently moved to China after taking up a new job, he was at a bit of a loss when the shipping company informed him that there was a limit of a thousand books he could ship. Who knows what kind of inflammatory potential there might have been in those tomes? The fact that his Kindle, or a stack of external hard drives might have stored much more of the digital word and images wasn’t as much a threat!

In our lives, we definitely do not dismiss the printed word. Then why do we so often question the importance of writing and printing books in the corporate world? It can’t just be because it costs money to print. 

In the near future, instead of pooh-poohing the printed book, we should pehaps be prepared to spend more.

As Michael Aresta writes in Slate[1], “Bookshelves will survive in the homes of serious digital-age readers, but their contents will be much more judiciously curated. The next generation of paper books will likely rival the art hanging beside them on the walls for beauty, expense, and 'aura' - for better or for worse." 

Finally, in 300 years time, we don’t even know whether the technology will still exist to decode and access them so from now, every time you have a collection of thoughts that are worth a tree, write them down. If you really value what you have to say, and believe that there are many others who will find value in your narrative, just get down to writing a book.

But do resist the temptation of compiling your last hundred LinkedIn posts and sending it off to a publisher!

[1] http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/design/2012/05/will_paper_books_exist_in_the_future_yes_but_they_ll_look_different_.single.html