It seems the fate of nations is to follow the Scandinavian countries in both progress and retreat. After Sweden recently stepped back from total reliance on tablets and gradually replaced them with paper and pen — following a study into the effects of excessive technology use in schools — many other advanced countries followed suit.
That shift was not confined to Sweden, which ranks among the most educationally advanced nations in the world. In Finland too, schools have begun returning to printed books after years of dependence on screens. Their English neighbours have seen mounting warnings about the effects of excessive device use on children's concentration and motor skills; one report linked the decline in handwriting to weaker academic performance. I have noticed this myself among younger generations, whose handwriting is so poor it looks as though it were written with the left hand, owing to the reduced use of paper at school.
The paradox is that these countries were among the earliest and most enthusiastic champions of technology, yet modern studies and experiments suggest that excess leads to the opposite of the intended results.
Paper remains comfortable in education, with its quietness — it sends no distractions to the mind. It has also been established that engaging all the senses leads to a better understanding of material and better retention of information, and consequently easier retrieval from memory. This perhaps explains the well-known educational maxim: "I hear and I forget, I see and I remember, I do and I understand."
A printed book requires no batteries, and its mere presence on a desk invites all our senses to engage with it — touch, sight, connecting what we hear in classrooms to written text, and writing in its margins. For decades, I personally never wrote a single letter in the margins of any book, "out of respect for it," believing that after my death my large library would pass to those who needed it. Then I abandoned all those illusions, discovering a new pleasure when re-reading a printed book and beginning to contemplate my own margin notes. Imagine finding books belonging to far more significant figures in society who wrote their margin notes — such as Al-Jahiz, Ibn al-Qayyim, Naguib Mahfouz, and Ghazi Al-Gosaibi. Often, the pleasure of reading the marginal summaries is greater than reading the original text, because they contain our reactions, our sketches, and our linking of information to whatever else has matured in our memories over time. Here, the connection becomes beautiful and draws one to continue the journey of reading, understanding, and enjoyment.
Although I am an enthusiast of technology, own many e-books, and have tried electronic margin notes typed on a keyboard, I have found that handwriting — in any format, whether electronic or printed — is more impactful and more encouraging of focus and immersion in the text. This approach is known scientifically as critical reading, which demands engagement from all the senses with the text. Numerous studies affirm the power of critical thinking when applied to a read text.
In therapeutic and psychological sessions, those surrounded by distractions from every direction are asked to set aside a short time for contemplation, reflection, and writing down what occupies their mind with a pen and paper. Paper grants its owner a space for quiet thinking and organising thoughts, away from the noise.
In education and beyond, it is important to make changes gradually, so that students are not shocked by sudden deprivation that then produces the opposite result. For when a person is abruptly denied something they have grown attached to, they cling to it and long for it all the more.
Sweden, considered one of the most advanced countries in the digital transformation of education, decided on a "gradual" retreat from screens after low results appeared in international student assessments in reading and mathematics — a return to traditional educational fundamentals. It has also banned mobile phones in schools starting in autumn 2026. In the United Kingdom, reading and writing skills have similarly declined, prompting the British to follow the Swedish example.
The return to the rustle of paper and the scratch of the pen is not a step backwards; it is the very essence of progress, provided it comes after study and reflection on each country's reality and what its people need.