TikTok says that #JournalTok, the corner of the internet dedicated to people filming themselves writing in diaries, decorating notebooks and generally having thoughts on paper, doubled in the past year. The platform has even introduced its own digital affirmation journal, presumably because the best way to encourage people to spend more time reflecting away from their phones is to give them another reason to open TikTok.
And honestly, it tracks.
After years of being told that we are too online, too distracted, too addicted to our phones and probably suffering from some form of attention-span damage, Gen Z has apparently decided that the solution is to buy a notebook.
Not just any notebook, either - a beautiful notebook. Preferably one with a linen cover, expensive paper and the sort of binding that makes you feel as though you have recently inherited a house in the Cotswolds. Then comes the pen, because apparently the wrong biro can ruin your emotional wellbeing, followed by the stickers, the washi tape, the little photographs, the pressed flowers and whatever else is required to turn writing “today was a bit shit” into a 45-minute creative project.
The diary is back.
And, naturally, we have managed to make it a lifestyle aesthetic.
There is something almost impressively circular about the whole thing. We have spent the last fifteen years moving everything from the physical world onto our phones, only to discover that we miss having some things in physical form. We digitised photographs and then bought film cameras. We stopped buying books and then started carrying paperbacks around like personality accessories. We replaced CDs with streaming and then became extremely excited about vinyl. And now, after years of typing our thoughts into Notes apps at 2am, we are rediscovering the humble diary.
The appeal is obvious. There is a particular satisfaction in doing something that cannot ping, refresh, recommend or ask you whether you would like to “continue your journey”. A notebook does not know what you did yesterday, and it certainly does not intend to remind you about it.
But there is one small problem with our analogue rebellion.
We keep posting about it online.
Nothing says “I need to disconnect from the digital world” quite like spending 25 minutes arranging your journal, coffee, candle and carefully selected paperback into a flat lay before filming yourself opening the journal on TikTok.
The irony is almost too perfect.
And yet, perhaps this is why the journaling revival is more interesting than simply another internet trend. The point was never really the notebook. It is the feeling behind it.
We are tired of having every part of our lives fragmented across a collection of apps, platforms, notifications and increasingly aggressive reminders that we have not yet achieved our full potential today. We want somewhere to put our thoughts that does not immediately turn them into data, content or a productivity challenge.
Which raises a slightly awkward question: if what we actually want is a more personal digital life, why are we so convinced the answer has to be going analogue? Perhaps it is finally making digital feel personal again. And maybe that is the sweet spot: not choosing between the notebook and the screen, but finding a way to make the screen feel a little more like your own.
