The Mail Race: Electronica vs. The Snail

Methods of communication have evolved and expanded dramatically over time. Humanity has used the word of mouth (as in runners), delivery animals (as in pigeons), the Pony Express, the train system, the telegraph, smoke signals, Morse code, and many other methods besides to communicate with others over vast distances… or right down the street.

Many of the communication vessels above are still used, although some in less practical ways, and simply for the sake of nostalgia. The primary means of communication now rest in e-mail, text messaging, the occasional though rare phone call, and somehow, for some reason, the postal service.

Why is that? How is that? The postal service has always had some advantages over the new(er) and therefore exciting electronic mail. We cannot, at the moment, send a physical package via e-mail… yet. This is an advantage that I believe will be called into question once 3-D printers are normalized, something to occur very soon. There is also the added feeling of personalization and the heartfelt notion of taking one’s time to write a letter or invitation by hand, the sheer beauty of it that cannot be duplicated by e-mail. Snail mail offers an aesthetic and satisfactory sensory experience that e-mail cannot.

The human experience would be a little less amazing without touching the same paper that was held by someone you loved, allowing you to smell the traces of their perfume or a hint of the favorite candle used in the office, especially if that loved one was lost. Printing off the email exchange probably would not cut it. There is also the joy, sometimes shared, of physically walking out to the mail box, opening the little door, reaching in and pulling something out. Many people admit that receiving mail, especially packages, makes them feel like it’s Christmas. Email doesn’t seem to produce the same joy.

There are some less than pleasant things that come from the post office, such as the physical space that is required to have a mailbox. For some people this is a disadvantage, one that sometimes comes with an annoying solution. A P.O. box can take one out of their way to receive something as simple as a bill. And as far as space goes, there is so much waste that comes from all the junk mail. Of course, there is a lot of waste that comes from the welcome mail. All that paper, or worse, plastic must go somewhere. And then there is the ugliness, used in the past, of the post as a weapon, one with very material consequences: explosives, chemical and biological warfare. With the physical advantages comes physical risk. There are, of course, laws to try and prevent this sort of thing, but laws exist for a reason. That reason is usually that someone already did that horrible thing, the one the law in designed to prevent, as is the case with the laws for U.S. post.

Electronic mail has laws too, for the very unfortunate same reason. But it is easier to have an email address (with access to the technology, that is) and email has the advantage of arriving much more quickly than snail mail. Plus, it’s pretty much available for free (aside from internet access and power charges). Sending anything from a letter to a very large package costs money relative to the size of the package or envelope and the speed at which you want it to arrive. Email, in the sense of speed is exceptionally non-discriminate. The transmission is practically instantaneous. Of course, email has to be broken into tiny pieces and reassembled where there is a risk of something being lost – unlikely in this day and age.

Both email and postal mail require an address. Usually, postal mail is limited to an already identified location, which can be a little boring. Email offers variety and excitement and a beautiful ease in moving. Abandoning email to leave behind all the spam is so much easier that moving to stop the junk mail crowding the mail box. And there is no mail that belongs to the previous tenant in my email inbox.

Email has its risks, too though. A virus or other malware can be embedded inside, waiting to steal your identity or otherwise bring your data based existence down. And as mentioned above, it makes less of a plea to the hearts of romantics.  

Preference, I suppose holds no place at this point in our development, but once the 3-D printer is sitting in everyone’s home, I think email will give the postal service a real run for its money. At that point, romantic notions of love in letters will only exist in books. Don’t expect to understand that though, you’ll be reading about it on a screen wondering what exactly wood pulp feels like.