Get off the screens and onto the sheets

As Blur wryly titled their 1993 album, Modern Life is Rubbish. The title itself may be tongue-in-cheek, but it reflects a sentiment that has seemingly persisted throughout human history. A wistful feeling that things were better ‘back in the day’.

It’s easy to write this off as empty nostalgia, and of course, there are many benefits to the digital technology we now have access to. Being able to communicate instantaneously with people on the other side of the planet is its own kind of magic. But there’s also truth in the idea that something valuable risks being lost in the process and nothing illustrates that more than the timeless power of paper.

The physicality of paper, once considered ordinary, now feels increasingly rare: Something held, shared, collected, written on, and experienced in real space rather than beamed into the brain through endless scrolling.

People have always gravitated toward things they can physically touch. That doesn’t mean eschewing digital technology entirely – a handwritten note is still written on paper likely to be produced using an automated workflow – but it does mean that something made by hand or through direct human involvement is more memorable than something made by ones and zeroes.

Look at the resurgence of vinyl records and cassette tapes in the age of streaming. The songs might be the same on digital and physical media, but the ritual of sliding a record out of its sleeve, placing it onto the record player, and gently dropping the needle can never be replicated by simply pressing the play button on your phone. The ubiquitousness of music streaming only makes these physical interactions feel more special.

It comes down to a question of intent. When you want to unwind on the commute to work, or get through a workout, or create an ambience at a social gathering, the convenience of digital streaming is ideal. But when you want to really listen to a piece of music, to dive into the texture of every note and soak in the meaning behind every lyric, to lose yourself in the experience, analogue physicality beats digital convenience every time.

Paper is the standard-bearer for this phenomenon. Perhaps that’s why it has provided so much value to us for so long. Slowing down the human experience lets us focus on the things that are so important, even when we’re surrounded by digital noise. That’s something we can’t afford to lose, and it’s something that James Cropper has been dedicated to preserving for over 180 years.

As Mark Cropper, the sixth generation of Cropper to hold the position of Chairman at our company, put it: “When it comes to how we should use our time on Earth as human beings, I think we should have less time on screens and more on paper.”

That’s about something more than simple nostalgia, just as the James Cropper ethos is about more than relying on our long legacy. It’s about asking questions around how human beings want to spend their time and attention today and tomorrow. For businesses, answering those questions is critical to success. The digital ecosystem has rewritten the rules of the attention economy, and cutting through in today’s marketplace means competing with everything from digital marketing channels to online marketplaces, streaming services, and social media feeds.

Paper creates a sense of permanence and tactility that digital channels can never match. Whether through books, notebooks, printed materials, or beautifully crafted packaging, paper focuses the mind on the physical experience in an age of digital disconnection. Every element, from its colour to its texture to the way it folds, can be tailored and personalised to carry additional meaning.

To dispute the argument made by Blur, modern life isn’t rubbish. Neither is digital technology. But they can seem rubbish when everything feels weightless and disposable.

That’s where paper offers the greatest value to us. It isn’t a rejection of progress; it’s a reminder that progress should serve human experience rather than flatten it. When customers engage with a business, the most valuable messages are the ones that stay with people. The ones that create pause and give ideas a physical presence in the world. The ones that can be felt as well as read.

And in a crowded market saturated with instantly accessible content, the materials businesses choose can say things that pixels never could. That has always been the promise of paper. It connects ancient craft with modern creativity, human feeling with technical precision, and everyday function with lasting value.

The future will no doubt be more digital, more automated, and more intelligent. This is a good thing that creates many opportunities for innovation. But we shouldn’t forget that the things that truly move us will still need texture, permanence, and soul. Nor should we forget that even after thousands of years, we are still only scratching the surface of paper-based innovation.

Modern life will never be rubbish – not as long as we still have paper.