Letter writing: the oldest form of communication that has almost disappeared

MadridNeither Joan, nor Miquel, nor Paula, but neither Josep nor Montserrat. None of them practice what the English writer Virginia Woolf called "the most human art": writing letters by hand and sending them. Or at least not regularly. In fact, Joan, 23, hasn't done so since she was in school, when she shared some letters with other students from the State as part of an educational project. "I don't remember the name of the town, but I know we wrote and sent letters to other children through the postal service. After that, I'd say I haven't sent any more," she explains, crunching her memory. However, the truth is that using a sheet of paper, an envelope, and a stamp, as well as one's hands, to write and send a few words to someone can almost be considered an exception. In Spain, 80% of the population says they will not have used traditional postal service—sending a letter or postcard—at any point in 2024.

The decline of the handwritten letter has accelerated for some time now. Every year, the National Commission on Markets and Competition (CNMC) publishes a report on the postal service in Spain that provides an insight into its state of health. In the last ten years, traditional postal deliveries have accumulated a decline of more than 64%, as can be seen in the latest report published this summer. The data includes all types of letters (regular and certified), also postcards and administrative notifications.

"Oh my God! I don't even remember!" Paula, 34, quickly replies when asked about the last letter she wrote by hand. Two days later, she confirms that it was in 2023, when she sent a Christmas card to an Austrian friend she met during Erasmus. "Before this letter, I hadn't sent one for maybe ten years," she admits.

Usually, those who remember when they last wrote and sent a letter or postcard don't do so because it hasn't been long since they did so. Miquel, who is 30, for example, has etched in his memory that the last time he used the postal service was six years ago, although he wasn't the one who wrote the letter: "I sent it from the central post office in Ho Chi Minh City, to Vietnam. I had read that the last writers were there, and that's where the last writers were." We found a very old man, wearing glasses and hunched over a wooden desk. We asked him for a postcard, which he wrote and filled out with the address we dictated, and which arrived promptly in Barcelona in less than ten days."

Writing on commission is not a peculiarity of this city in Vietnam. In Santo Domingo Square in Mexico City, there are still scribes who dedicate themselves to it. Among the reasons why some people approach them to dictate a letter or a postcard is being able to convey something that is difficult or impossible to explain in person, that is, orally: an insurmountable physical distance that makes the letter the only means of communication—that was its genesis—or not knowing how to write. Also because the occasion may deserve something more than a call or a WhatsApp message; for example, a birthday greeting. Or even because we don't dare to tell something in person, despite having the need to do so, and we all know that this ends up becoming a lump in the throat.

A legacy to learn about the past

In fact, this "art" of handwriting letters, which few practice here today, has been, and continues to be, for some, a way of undoing the sensation of food that hasn't been completely digested. "I've always loved writing. [...] It allows me to bring out words from within that I don't know how to get out of my mouth. But it's also scary because what's written remains," reflects Moni, 31. In fact, history has been able to understand the past, but also the present, thanks to some letters that, despite not being intended, have been given to us as a legacy in the form of documentary sources. Many of these are the result of great epistolary relationships that many of the writers of the 19th and 20th centuries had: Joan Maragall and Víctor Català, Gabriel Ferrater and Helena Valentí, but also Mercè Rodoreda and Joan Sales, or Joan Fuster and Josep Pla have left us great epistolaries.

Moni began writing letters when she was in school. "Instead of the typical notes, I wrote letters, and since I didn't know how to fold them cleverly, I put them in an envelope. I mixed silly things with more serious thoughts," she recalls. She doesn't like postcards because she says they lack the space to say everything she wants. "When I mailed them, they were sometimes expensive because of the weight. I liked to add a little something, a seashell or a label," she says. Today she continues to write letters, especially to friends, but she delivers some by hand herself.

Farewell to a ritual

But in stopping writing letters, there's not only the loss of a page to which we've delegated the responsibility of carrying and transmitting adventures, anecdotes, emotions, or confessions. We also lose a ritual, because sending a letter is a ceremony in itself. Stopping to find and choose a page, an envelope, and a stamp—even wondering where you can buy a stamp today. Thinking about whether you want to add a little something, like Moni did with the shells on the beach. Spending time writing it and then looking for the mailbox to post it in, ending up in a post office because it turns out the yellow steel cylinders that have been part of the landscape of cities and towns for decades have also disappeared, little by little.

For all these reasons, some people today see the letter not so much as a means of communication as a "little something." "It's no longer a means I think of to communicate with someone, it's more of a special gift. I don't even think about the content, but rather sending the letter itself," confesses Ane, 26, who sent a letter to her grandmother during this summer's vacation.

Other times

However, writing and sending letters requires a time that seems nonexistent today—or perhaps it does, but it contradicts a century marked by immediacy. "We're so out of the habit of writing by hand that it doesn't even occur to us to do it for pleasure," reflects Miquel. The widespread use of email and the arrival of instant messaging apps like WhatsApp, Telegram, or Signal on mobile phones have opened the door to instant communication. There's no longer any need to wait hours, days, or even weeks for the postman to arrive and leave a reply in the mailbox. "Now with email or WhatsApp, it's so easy," some people reply when asked why they no longer write letters. For others, recovering this habit of writing letters by hand would be a way to quell a certain anxiety linked to this immediacy. "And what's worse, waiting and needing a response instantly," adds Miquel.

Will there ever be a day when someone sends the last handwritten letter? Who will read it? So, perhaps future generations will have access to what we've sent each other digitally, which the cloud saves, becoming like the box where we keep the letters we've received. Although some aren't sure: "I think, 'What if a virus gets into the computer and everything gets erased, like when they took away Tuenti?' We lost everything! Our adolescence!" reflects Moni.