The seamless, flowing motion used to form cursive letters stimulates brain synapses and the synchronisation of the hands and eyes, unlike the disjointed taps of a keyboard.
– https://www.lwtears.com/
A Facebook story about Sweden bringing more books and handwriting practice back to its tech-heavy schools caught my attention, and I wasted no time in sending the link to some of our wakil rakyat for their views.
For years, the global education conversation has been dominated by a single seductive idea: that the faster schools embrace digital technology, the better prepared children will be for the future. Tablets replaced textbooks, keyboards replaced pens, and screens replaced pages.
Sweden, one of the world’s most technologically advanced societies, was among the earliest and boldest adopters of this vision. It went almost all-in on digital learning. And now, in a rare and admirable act of policy humility, it is reversing course.
Sweden’s decision to reintroduce printed textbooks, handwriting practice, and paper-based learning into its schools is not a rejection of technology. It is an acknowledgement of a hard-earned lesson: education is not merely about access to tools, but about how the human brain learns, remembers, and makes meaning.
When literacy indicators began to slide and teachers noticed students struggling with reading comprehension and basic writing skills, Swedish policymakers paused, looked at the evidence, and admitted something few governments are willing to say: that they had gone too far, too fast.
Between 2016 and 2021, Sweden’s fourth-grade reading scores dropped noticeably in international assessments. Teachers reported declining attention spans and weaker writing abilities. Children who were fluent on screens found themselves faltering when asked to write by hand or read longer passages in print.
The very tools meant to empower learning had begun to interfere with it. Research institutions, including Sweden’s most respected medical and scientific bodies, weighed in with an uncomfortable conclusion: excessive reliance on digital tools can impair, rather than enhance, learning outcomes, especially in young children.
The response was decisive. The Swedish government committed substantial public funds to restore physical textbooks in classrooms, reduce screen-heavy instruction, and re-emphasise handwriting, quiet reading time, and teacher-led learning. Tablets were not banned, but they were repositioned; no longer the centre of the classroom, but a supplement. Technology was put back in its proper place: useful, but not dominant.
What makes Sweden’s experience so compelling is not that it rejected digital learning, but that it recognised the cognitive value of traditional methods. Writing by hand activates areas of the brain linked to memory, comprehension, and conceptual understanding in ways that typing does not.
The physical act of forming letters, whether in cursive or print, creates neural pathways that help information “stick”.
Reading from paper encourages focus, reduces distraction, and improves retention. These are not nostalgic arguments; they are supported by decades of cognitive and educational research. Some of the YBs I talked to, agreed that anyone who has ever written a note and remembered it better than something typed understands this intuitively.
Teachers have long said that what the hand writes, the mind remembers. Students themselves, when asked, often express a preference for paper, not because it is old-fashioned, but because it feels clearer, calmer, and more real. Children, it turns out, sometimes understand learning better than policymakers.
This is where Sweden’s experience becomes deeply relevant to Malaysia. Like many countries, we have embraced digitalisation in education with enthusiasm, and often with good intentions. Digital platforms expanded rapidly during the pandemic and remain embedded in classrooms today.
Online resources, smart boards, and tablets have undeniable benefits, particularly in widening access and supporting interactive learning. But there is also a growing unease among parents and educators that something essential is being lost in the process.
Reports of declining reading habits among young Malaysians, weaker writing skills, and shorter attention spans are becoming harder to ignore. Teachers quietly admit that students struggle to write coherent essays by hand.
Many children can type quickly but find sustained reading exhausting. The habit of deep reading which was once a cornerstone of education, is being eroded by constant exposure to screens designed for speed, not reflection.
To be clear, this is not an argument for turning back the clock. Malaysia cannot, and should not, abandon digital tools in education.
In a world shaped by artificial intelligence, automation, and digital economies, technological literacy is essential. Students must be comfortable with devices, platforms, and online research. But Sweden’s experience reminds us that technological competence cannot come at the expense of foundational literacy.
Education is not a race to adopt the newest gadget. It is a careful process of nurturing thinking, comprehension, discipline, and creativity. A child who cannot read deeply, write clearly, or think critically will not be saved by a tablet. In fact, the tablet may only mask the problem.
Encouragingly, there are signs that Sarawak leaders and education stakeholders understand this balance. The continued emphasis on textbooks, writing exercises, and teacher-guided instruction alongside digital initiatives reflects an awareness that education must be holistic. Technology should enhance teaching, not replace it. Screens should support learning, not dominate it.
The danger lies in mistaking convenience for effectiveness. Digital learning is efficient, scalable, and visually engaging, but learning itself is not always efficient. It requires struggle, repetition, and physical engagement.
Handwriting is slow, and that is precisely why it works. It forces the brain to process information, not merely skim it. Printed books do not light up, buzz, or notify; they demand attention and reward patience.
Internationally, Sweden is not alone in rethinking its approach. Other technologically advanced societies are studying the impact of screen-heavy education and introducing limits, particularly for younger children. Global education bodies have issued calls for more thoughtful and age-appropriate use of technology in classrooms. The trend is clear: the future of education is not digital-only, but balanced.
Malaysia, Sarawak in particular, would do well to study Sweden’s course correction, not as a model to copy wholesale, but as a lesson to adapt. Our classrooms are diverse, our challenges unique, and our resources uneven. But the principle remains universal: foundational skills matter. Reading, writing, and thinking cannot be outsourced to devices.
If anything, Sweden’s decision should give policymakers here the confidence to slow down, reflect, and recalibrate. Admitting that an approach needs adjustment is not weakness; it is responsible governance. Education reforms should be guided by evidence, not ideology, and by long-term outcomes, not short-term trends. I hope our federal policymakers learn from the Swedish experience.
The real question is not whether we choose digital learning or traditional methods. That is a false choice. The real challenge is how to integrate both intelligently. A balanced education system recognises that technology is a powerful tool, but the human brain still learns best through touch, movement, repetition, and focus. Pens and keyboards, books and screens, teachers and technology all have a role.
Sweden had the courage to pause and correct its course. I hate to say this, but our federal education officials should at least have the wisdom to pay attention. Perhaps, Sarawak should set the ball rolling. No?
The views expressed here are those of the columnist and do not necessarily represent the views of Sarawak Tribune. The writer can be reached at rajlira@gmail.com
