“The arcana of ‘text’ language has, with alarming frequency” my revision hand-out rather grandly informed me, “begun to infect the exam scripts of A-level historians”. Recently, David Abulafia, amongst others, has also expressed concern at the deleterious consequences of the use of Twitter, Facebook and texting on standards of English, particularly in supervision essays. It’s time that figures in education and the public sphere stopped panicking about new media and realised that its effects, whilst vast, are neither novel nor nefarious.

Whilst we impose 140 character restrictions on ourselves, previous eras were more literally limited by the cost of paper or the inconvenience of writing by hand: the chi-rho symbol of the Papacy is an ancient but apt example of formal abbreviation (being the first two letter of the Greek Christos). During the Second World War a romantic Tommy may have signed off SWALK (Sealed With A Loving Kiss) or BOLTOP (Better On Lips Than On Paper), whilst the more patriotic-minded may have opted for ENGLAND (Every Girl Loves A Naked Dick). Compared to this, should an ‘FYI’ stray into an email, supervisors should count themselves lucky (or, possibly, unlucky.)

Indeed, a laconic flair has often been the name of the game; the Haiku or the Limerick are but two well-known examples of forms defined by limitations on length. Professional tweeters need to make every word count. Lest anyone tell you that there can be no beauty in brevity, look no further than the heart-breaking simplicity of Hemingway’s six-word story: For sale: baby shoes, never worn.

Linking ‘OMG’-laden statuses to declining essay standards does not wash. I find it rather difficult to believe that prior to the advent of Twitter students’ literary diet was substantially healthier than our own. Clearly, we read more soundbites and statuses than ever before, which could perhaps influence the way we write. However, one important use of social media is in fact to distribute and critique well-written articles from reputable papers. This is not the case for everyone - but what did people read before? Did they move from the unadulterated FT to unbridled ‘fb’? I hardly think so.

What is more, one does not need to be a Guardian-addict to benefit from the opportunity to tweet, text and update statuses. More people read and write than ever before. Daily, every kind of person composes and interprets. I dread to think of the hours spent agonising over the exact wording of a vital text to that special someone and sincerely hope that I am not alone (#NotTheCrazyOne). Laugh, LOL or even ROFL, but even the most unmusical acronyms each carry a delicately different significance and the joy, or frustration, of exploring those subtleties is a new common cultural experience.

Abulafia was concerned that “much informal writing consists of Facebook and Twitter messages.” It certainly does, but at least it consists of anything at all. I somehow doubt that prior to the digital age students’ chief means of communication was via Austen-esque missives. On leaving school people whose work did not require reading, beyond street signs and forms, had little need to read, still less to write. Literacy, now, is once again at the heart of every-day life. It is easy to scoff at garbled and inane statuses but at least people are considering the use of language and what it can do.

None of this is to dismiss concerns about the quality of essay writing, neither is it to say that new forms of communication are unproblematic. The links, however, seem rather tenuous. Let’s talk about teaching grammar and writing in schools; the lack of any remotely serious essay writing before AS level and a corrosive tick-box approach which undervalues style. I  would not dream of dismissing the importance of essay-writing, spelling and grammar; clear, concise and absorbing writing, for which Abulafia has such a talent, has been and ever should be at the heart of the humanities. Badly written history goes unread and can but howl at the wind.

At the same time consider the dangerous anonymity of the lurking trolls of the twittersphere; the proclivity to divide ones attention; texting one friend whilst conversing with another, flitting from e.g. writing a Varsity article to Youtube to Facebook and even more disturbingly the indelibility of our online presence, the consequences of which we are only just beginning to understand. However, the concomitance of two problems does not a cause-and-effect make.

We are right to be vigilant about standards of English and the effects of the internet on our intellectual and personal lives, but let us do so with a little perspective of our own times and epochs passed.