Everyone’s buying a Kindle these days, if recent sales figures released by Amazon are to be believed. So what does this spell for the future of books? If the Kindle’s popularity continues to grow, soon the need for actual books may just become obsolete.

Blast this Kindle rubbish. Give me a book, bound with a cover, physical, printed pages to turn, and a weightiness all of its own. Sure, the Kindle may be more practical and lighter but books are our culture and heritage.

An immediate indication of someone’s character is the books they have displayed on their bookshelf. It’s quite normal to have a peek when you go round to someone’s house. It’s not ok to look through someone’s hard drive to see what e-books they possess. And if, god forbid, in the (unlikely) future it becomes a social norm to ask, “Can I have a look through your Kindle?” it’s not quite the same as the impression one can glean from a quick flick of the eye over someone’s bookshelf, be it peppered with contemporary novels or groaning with ancient tomes.

Then there’s the physical presence of a book. A Kindle or computer may contain the same words as a book, but it has no character. No cover, special editions, hardback/softback, different textures of paper. It’s the equivalent of selling all food in a standardised, blank white packaging. Sure, taste and nutritional value would remain unchanged, but giving a gift of a white plastic sack of Swiss chocolates is not quite the same as a pretty box, is it? What would we give instead of books as gifts? Where would we write the message? Would we turn up to a birthday party with a print-out of the e-book’s email receipt? What would the author sign at a book signing?

Books are irreplaceable, and their loss would be like the loss of … acoustic instruments. With electric violins and electro-acoustic guitars, we probably don’t have any need for acoustic instruments; they don’t even require tuning. But wouldn’t that be a sad loss?

There is something sacred about books. I was always taught to treat them with the utmost respect. It took me many years to become accustomed to annotating books (and even now I tend to do it in pencil). I would wince if I were to see someone toss a Bible on the floor, even though I am not religious. I hate bending spines of new books, and never fold over pages to mark my place. Of course I’d be less inclined to treat a tatty old Mills & Boons novel with the same reverence as a religious text, but with e-books and Kindles, there is no differentiation between the two. They can both just as easily be uploaded and deleted. It’s sad.

But I am what they call regressive. I hanker after a bygone time, when the weapon of choice was a sword, and one communicated by hand-written letters. Then again, I use Facebook like a junkie uses smack, much like most of my generation (the Facebook using that is, not the drugs). So I guess I’m looking for a balance. Modern technology can sit side-by-side with books; there’s still room for both.