This abysmal state of language in email and texts isn’t a moral oversight. It’s a moral crisis. Writing inherently employs the intrinsically human faculties of speech and reason. Tech­nologies like email and texting can serve as modern catalysts for timeless commu­ni­cation, elevating the human condition by knitting indi­viduals together in community. But the inverse also is true.

Texts and emails can bankroll bankrupt ideas and poor practices. Only now, the human collateral is expo­nen­tially greater in proportion to technology’s ability to overcome space and time.

Looking back, will our children read through our love letters and discover our profes­sional triumphs? Will they sift through garbled texts and impersonal emails in desperate search of some greater meaning? Or, even worse, will they shake their heads as they discover how their bickering parents and grandparents made fools of themselves one email, tweet, and text at a time?

Every time we press send, we decide what God hath wrought, we influence whether advances in commu­ni­cation amount to a blessing or a curse. Emails and texts can elevate our language and humanity, or they can turn us into sentient beasts beating on keyboards and talking past one another.