Eagle Era

Why turning a physical page outperforms tapping an electronic page in memory and meaning

By Jovina Zion Pradeep 

In an age where nearly everything can be condensed into a glowing rectangle, there’s something quietly rebellious about opening a real book. These days, flipping through pages feels almost vintage, like mailing a handwritten letter in a world of emojis.  

While digital reading has its strengths like accessibility and portability, it often feels like fast food for the mind—it’s accessible, but not deeply satisfying. 

Yes, e-books are convenient. They fit in your phone and can store every novel you promised yourself you’d read over summer break (and didn’t).          

But convenience doesn’t always mean connection, as Shreya Baronia (12) pointed out. “As you read through a physical copy, the pages obviously get worn down. Sometimes people fold the pages, bookmark them, write in the books, or share them. Looking at how the physical copy has fared through all of these different events holds sentimental value.”  

Beyond nostalgia, physical books, notebooks, and textbooks are scientifically, practically, and emotionally more potent in helping us remember and engage with what we read and study. According to popular psychology magazine Psychology Today, comprehension is 6 to 8 times higher when reading from a physical page compared to a screen. 

Even The Guardian and the BBC agree: students who read print texts outperform those who read digitally on comprehension tests, and 92% of students reportedly prefer print books over e-books. Turning pages creates a visual map in the brain which helps with memory recall during tests or essays. Physical readers also recalled plots more clearly and felt more emotionally immersed. 

A physical copy of Brave New World, required reading for AP English Literature and Composition students, laid on a desk alongside an e-book version available to borrow on the Libby app (Photo Credit: Jovina Zion Pradeep (12)).

Literature is meant to be experienced, not just read. When you hold a book, you’re not just absorbing information; you’re navigating it. 

“With physical copies, by flipping through the book to find whatever information I’m looking for, I automatically read through other parts of the book, which gives me context for that specific information that I’m looking for,” said Baronia.    

Physical books also resist the one thing every student battles: distraction. A printed page doesn’t ping, buzz, or suggest that you check your email. It doesn’t glow blue light into your face at midnight or demand a password when your Wi-Fi lags.  

Soumil Garg (12) can relate. “When I read physical books, it is just me and the pages. No pop-ups, no messages, no noise. Holding the book physically helps me stay calm and focused.”

Nothing wakes you up faster than physically turning a page and realizing there are still 30 left to review. Even when a blackout strikes, physical books remain reliable. You don’t have to wait for a 3% battery to climb to 100% just to learn what happens after a cliffhanger. 

And there’s something incredibly affirming about holding the result of your work in your hands, knowing that it exists outside a browser tab. Writers often dream of their names in print because it’s proof that their ideas have weight.  

The tangible page offers a unique depth of connection, concentration, and memory that an electronic screen simply cannot replicate.