Amazon’s Kindle, Unfortunately Unscented

The big news is that Amazon is releasing a digital e-book reader. The world quivers with anticipation. I quiver with disinterest. I’m sure the guy that wrote the greatest letter ever is quivering with rage.

I think Jeremy Toeman argues pretty well why this is a horrible idea:

Is the market today “in crisis” when it comes to books? No. Next, is there a perceived pain in adopting electronic book readers? Absolutely … it’s pretty hard to argue that an electronic reader will vastly improve the book discovery, purchase, and consumption experience (unlike how much an MP3 player was able to do that exact thing). The only really viable argument against physical books is they are bigger and bulkier, but that really only applies to hardcover books.

His analysis is great, but there’s a point that I think he overlooks:

Amazon’s e-book reader will fail because e-books are stupid.

Let me amend that — e-books are stupid unless they’re reference material, then they’re excellent. e-Encylopedia? Great! e-War and Peace? Terrible! If you don’t believe me just hope over to Project Gutenberg and download it. Then read it. Excuse me, try to read it.

Look, I’ve been there. In concept e-books, and specifically Project Gutenberg — a repository of digital copies of public domain works — is marvelous, but reading these things sucks. Every couple of years I find myself hankering for a good Russian novel, and I end up downloading twenty or so e-books. Then I start reading one. Then I remember that why I didn’t read any of the books I downloaded the last time I paid Project Gutenberg a visit.

Books are fun. I’m not talking about the words inside the book, I’m talking about the actual physical object. Turning the pages of a book sets off a cascade of pleasure in my brain, taking me back to grade school when all I was interested in was turning those stupid pages to get to the end. Scrolling is a poor substitute. Even the neat-o iPhone slide effect lacks the sense of accomplishment turning book pages yields.¹

And then there’s the smell. You know the one. It’s different between old versus new books, and between paperback versus hardcover books, but it’s always there. It’s the smell of knowledge. It’s the smell of imagination. With library books it’s occasionally the smell of urine. It’s what we expect from our texts, and it’s what’s fatally missing from all e-book readers on the market. Sure, yeah, Kindle might squirt out a fragrance at regular intervals, but it’s unlikely to be the same. Also, a miscalibrated Kindle might squirt you right in the eye, which would probably be counter-productive. You’d also have to refill the fragrance, and the refills would probably be hella over-priced. I’m sure there’d be after-market refills, but they probably wouldn’t smell exactly the same, which would be confusing.

Books are also badges of honor. They show the world how smart and well-read you are. That’s why assholes people put bookcases in their living rooms, and fill them up with books they may or may not have finished. There’s no way to get that same effect with e-books. How do you casually slip into a conversation the log of all the e-books you’ve downloaded. “I’m sorry your grandfather died last week and cut you out of the will, but, hey, you wanna see this awesome Excel spreadsheet of all the e-books I’ve downloaded?” That strikes me as a bit on the nose, don’t you think?

The point is the physicality of the book is part of the reading experience, and so removing the physical object lessens the experience. The same was true, I believe, of vinyl records, but in the case of vinyl moving to different media demonstrably improved other parts of the experience. As Toeman notes, the same isn’t really true of books.² If it ain’t broke…

So no, I won’t be buying an e-book reader anytime soon, regardless of who makes it. I enjoy holding books. I enjoy turning the pages of a book, its scent wafting through the air. Like a fart. Books are just one area where going digital simply does not make sense.