Journalists of a certain age sometimes look back fondly to the newsrooms of old, especially after a pint or three has coated the noisy, smoke-filled reality with a roseate veneer of nostalgia. It’s almost surprising that anyone from that era managed to survive with lungs, liver and hearing intact. They were very unhealthy places.
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Then there were the Telex machines. These would burst into life, tapping out their rapid staccato rhythms only slightly shielded by the housing which was supposed to deaden the noise. It didn’t, because the sub-editors would open them up to read the headline, or rip the first couple of paragraphs off the spool because that was all that they needed for a radio bulletin. I’m reminded of all this because of the report that what is believed to be the world's last major typewriter factory has finally closed its doors. The company, Godrej & Boyce based in Mumbai, had seen demand for typewriters gradually dwindle. There are said to be just 500 machines left in its factory, a snip at £160 each. The typewriter is just one of many once-popular pieces of equipment which have now been consigned to the dustbin of commercial history. Instamatic cameras, Super 8 film and Kodachrome have all gone, as have the Flip video camera and – soon, it seems – the humble floppy disk. All have been usurped by more effective digital solutions. All of those successors are so much quieter. But while the production of typewriters may have ended (at least in India – there may be some still being manufactured in remote parts of China), there are still millions of people around the world who use them. Perhaps it’s for the same reason that some photographers prefer film and some music buffs will only listen to vinyl records played on ridiculously expensive turntables. I will confess that there was something curiously satisfying about using the old, pre-digital technologies. In my case, it wasn’t just the typewriter. It was also the open-reel tape recorder (anyone remember the Uher?) and a microphone with a cast-iron body. The latter proved a bonus during the miners’ strike because it was unbreakable. Recent TV programmes, such as Mad Men, have reminded people of a bygone era where typewriters could still hold a certain romance. But other factors come into play as well. I seem to remember one of Victor Borge’s routines involving his miming the ting of a bell and the rasp of a carriage. And would Charles Schulz's Snoopy have been able to balance a PC on his kennel as he typed the immortal words: “It was a dark and stormy night”? I still have a typewriter – just in case the power ever fails. I can’t bear to get rid of my old Uher tape recorder, even though I’ve used a Marantz – which records on to CompactFlash cards – for almost the past decade. We still have cameras that take film plus some spools kept in the fridge, despite their lying unused in their cases, all just in case. But how many of us would really ever want to go back to the world of those early newsrooms or open-plan offices? The thick fug of cigarette smoke, so common then, would seem unbearable now. The keyboard I’m using to write this hardly makes a sound. Technology allows me to work from home – or anywhere where there’s a strong enough mobile phone signal. We all hold on to memories, often affectionate memories, of a time long gone. We gloss over the hardships and awkwardness of systems which worked because they had to, not because they were particularly effective. We allow that veneer of nostalgia to tint those memories when we hear of the last typewriter factory closing. But then, even nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.Want to discuss other issues? Join the debate on our new Scottish Voices forum
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