Scarcity, Love and the meaning of writing

Why handwritten letters hold different value

There’s a poignant scene in Spike Jonze’s film “Her” where Joaquin Phoenix’s character discovers that the AI he loves is simultaneously in love with hundreds of other individuals. To the AI, this revelation holds no emotional tension—its capacity to love isn’t finite. But to Phoenix’s character, this is devastating precisely because humans inherently value things based on scarcity. We instinctively equate rarity with value. If love can be effortlessly multiplied and distributed infinitely, does it retain its meaning?

This same dynamic applies profoundly to the act of writing. Imagine receiving a handwritten letter from your favorite author or a revered figure. The emotional impact of knowing they chose to dedicate time and attention specifically to you is profound, precisely because their attention is scarce and therefore valuable. Compare that to receiving a generic response—copied, pasted, and sent to countless others. The latter holds little emotional weight, despite containing similar sentiments. Exclusivity, rooted in time and attention, magnifies emotional significance.

Writing, in this sense, isn’t merely the act of putting words on paper or typing them on a screen. It’s fundamentally about choice. Every word you write represents a decision—a decision to focus your finite attention here rather than elsewhere. When a writer chooses to dedicate their scarce resource—time—to crafting a particular set of sentences, they imbue that act with inherent value. This is why personalized notes, thoughtful essays, and carefully composed messages resonate deeply. They signify a deliberate and costly choice.

Consider that great writing often arises not from casual interest but from profound emotional investment. Good writing frequently borders on obsession; writers are compelled by curiosity, frustration, inspiration, or even obsession itself to articulate precisely what they feel must be expressed. The more significant the emotional charge, the higher the “cost” in terms of time, energy, and psychological investment. This costly signaling of emotional investment distinguishes powerful, resonant writing from casual, indifferent words.

Yet, today’s digital landscape threatens this connection between scarcity and meaning. As platforms reward frequency and quantity over thoughtfulness and depth, we risk diluting writing’s inherent value. The abundance of quickly churned-out content creates noise, obscuring the rare and precious signals of truly meaningful expression. Ironically, it is precisely the ease and abundance of modern communication that makes deliberate, thoughtful writing even more rare—and thus, more valuable.

Ultimately, writing’s power stems from scarcity—specifically, the scarcity of genuine emotional commitment and focused attention. Each thoughtfully composed sentence, carefully constructed paragraph, or deeply resonant essay signals something precious: that the writer cared enough to sacrifice other opportunities to bring these words into existence. Like authentic love, authentic writing derives its worth from what it costs us. It is the deliberate expenditure of our finite attention, driven by genuine care, that transforms mere words into meaningful human connection.