Today, in the age of near-universal computer access in the United States, 42 states have stopped teaching cursive in favor of keyboard proficiency. (Massachusetts is one of the few holdouts.) The United States Postal Service teeters on the brink of bankruptcy for want of handwritten letters. That the importance of handwriting has diminished should surprise no one, but British novelist Philip Hensher’s ardent defense of it might.
In “The Missing Ink: The Lost Art of Handwriting,” published last month by Faber and Faber, Hensher presents an impassioned argument for the continued use of manual script, as well as an idiosyncratic history of handwriting’s remarkably brief tenure as an important pursuit. As the significance of handwriting dwindles, Hensher contends, the Western world stands to lose a rite of passage, a manner of self-expression, and a way to connect to one another.

Comments
I am not sure of this, and I write by hand, but I feel my choice of words is more subtle and immediate when I write with a writing instrument grasped in the fingers of my right hand. Something about exercising motor control over the shape of the letters makes me more thoughtful about writing them, rather than the single-faced utility of a keyboard where every stoke is a repetitious and undifferentiated exercise. When writing really matters, such as poetry, there is only one choice, and that is my Waterman.
Those of us on the autistic spectrum - who suffer from the accompanying dyspraxia that makes handwriting an ordeal - have a somewhat different perspective on the decline of the discipline. We remember frustrating and humiliating hours wasted in penmanship classes, being required to write in cursive (even though our hand printing is far faster and infinitely more readable), the inability to complete assignments in time (for purely mechanical reasons), constant criticism over the illegibility of our pathetic scrawls, etc., etc. Yes, there are arguably aesthetic, tactile, emotional, etc. aspects to handwriting that some may sincerely cherish, and which will inevitably decline along with the practice itself. But as a useful skill in today's world, its value is minimal and shrinking. Many consider typing a soulless activity, and feel that handwriting is the one true path to genuinely expressive writing. My sentiment is exactly the opposite. For me, the mechanical difficulty of handwriting makes it an impediment to composing anything longer than a sentence, and an unequivocal thought-blocker. But on the keyboard, I am free, and the transfer of thought into text is almost magically seamless.