Sometimes, it’s not just bombs, viruses and elections that make you worry about the future of humanity. A recent survey, commissioned by the National Literacy Trust, reveals that fewer than one third of eight-to-18-year-olds enjoys writing as a hobby. If you’re thinking that I’m being wistful about fountain pens (‘whatever happened to ink blots?’) you’re flat wrong: this also includes writing with computers. A mere ten years ago, 50 per cent of children delighted in writing. You can’t help but feel that since then something’s gone terribly awry. If the young’uns are not writing for their own amusement, then they are missing out on a fundamental tenet of humanity.
Recently, I unearthed a diary I’d kept, at the age of seven, in a reporter’s notebook
Writing – the making of decipherable, coherent marks, which can be understood by other people when you are not there – is what distinguishes us from animals.
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