Putting pen to paper is in our basic human OS

I have a theory. You can only hack the human operating system so far before you compromise it. It might be highly efficient to outsource things like writing to AI, along with other forms of creativity but at the same time these are fundamentally human-centric processes. We need to keep doing them ourselves in order to function well. What’s more, writing things down using pen and paper – rather than typing on a keyboard or using a digital interface – is where the magic can really happen. 

Stephen Bartlett put it well in a social media post: “When you write things down, you turn chaos into clarity. Start untangling your thoughts, pen and paper is where order begins.” 

Software code for operating system.
Photo by Godfrey Atima on Pexels

Putting pen to paper is indeed where a sense of order begins: do you have a jumbled pile of things you need to do but no idea where to start? Write them down in a list. Do you feel overwhelmed? Write everything down on paper. Or are you trying to figure out what you feel about a difficult situation? Starting journalling and see the clarity emerge as you process your experiences. Naming your emotions as you go will also help to gently pull apart the tangled knot and straighten out the various strands into clear thoughts and feelings. It is a form of literacy to know what you’re thinking and feeling.

Its effectiveness is connected to ‘mark-making’ which requires coordination between hand, eye and brain. The same is true for drawing or painting – it helps us to regulate our emotions and process our thoughts. It both embodies and externalises them. And when you read words you’ve written back to yourself, you are creating a mirror. It is here you can gain a valuable sense of perspective on the condition of your own soul and the inner workings of your own heart and mind.

I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve arrived at the page of my journal feeling confused and burdened about a situation. But as I’ve put pen to paper, and written in longhand, it has forced me to create understanding – to make it make sense – for myself first and then for others. It’s unlikely anyone else will ever my journal unless I show them, but the result for me is being able to articulate better what I’m experiencing.

And without even trying to create meaning there’s value in doing this. Just the action of writing words on a page – even if they’re largely nonsensical is still worthwhile; as a ‘brain dump’ so to speak. This starts the flow of thoughts going so you can get to that place of understanding. Like the scum that forms when you’re boiling leftover chicken – bones and all – from Sunday’s roast dinner. As it simmers away you periodically skim it off the top to find the clear broth beneath. It’s a bit like that with journalling. 

Journalling putting pen to paper and doing the morning pages from The Artist's Way by Julia Camerson.
Photo by Juan Zamoran on Pexels.

This type of journalling forms a core practice within Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way. She calls it the Morning Pages. The intention is to open the creative tap and clear out the stagnant water which collected in the pipes overnight (I don’t know how far I can push this metaphor to be honest). Instead of clear intelligible thoughts, what lands on the page when you’re writing the Morning Pages should be considered dross, effluvium – you’re not even meant to revisit it. But by getting the creative flow – flowing – the process promises to release the good stuff. By flushing out all the concerns and randomness that fill our minds, the deeper ideas can surface. Under all that scum is pure gold. And there might even be some random ideas that come to mind while you’re flushing everything else out. That too is gold.

It’s good to make time for drawing too (and any other creative activities that involve making things with your hands). Again, it’s putting pen (or pencil) to paper for me. This is usually simple sketches in coloured pencil – either from life, or from images or paintings. I love going to the ever-popular Drop-in Drawing events on Friday nights at the National Portrait Gallery.  Those gathered draw from any number of the portraits hanging on the walls of the Gallery – in response to a brief we’re given at the beginning of the session. Each time the sessions offer a new way to engage with the artwork, to look from a different angle, and create renewed meaning. We then get to show our work and discuss it with the tutor. And while this is absolutely about catharsis, it’s also really fun – it throws me back to my art school days. I always have a sense of rightness afterwards – like I’ve done something that has cared for my emotional, mental and creative health in some way. I feel lighter, I breathe deeper, I smile. It actually feels good for me. And it is. Engagement in the arts is proven to improve health outcomes as well as our overall wellbeing (see Daisy Fancourt’s new book Art Cure for a full look at this).

That’s the thing about our hand-eye-brain connection. It’s something which is built into our human design. That’s especially true if you’re a self-confessed Creative, where things like writing, painting or drawing scratch a fundamental itch, but we all have that creative faculty within us. We all have a need to ‘make’ something in some way. In terms of the science; the tactile, connected nature of putting pen to paper has cognitive and psychological benefits for us as humans – not least for memory retention, mental clarity and focus. Wider benefits include enhancing our overall creativity. As we make those marks, we also make cross-connections in our brains which spark fresh ideas and solve problems – enhancing our lateral thinking. The tactile and physical nature of it – we can touch and feel the pen and the page – uses more of our senses (rather than converting key strokes to pixels on screen).

The way I think of creativity is changing. Rather than a luxury or optional extra – a ‘nice-to-have’, I’m now beginning to think of it as an absolutely essential thing for us as humans to do. It’s something so basic to our human operating system – body, mind, soul – and spirit – that without it we fail to function properly. And the science backs this up. 

© Alexandra Noel 2026. All rights reserved.

Reclaiming women’s voices

Minnie Driver as Sarah in The Faithful: Women of the Bible, with Jeffrey Donovan as Abraham.
From The Faithful: Women of the Bible by Fox TV

“On 12 April, the annual Olivier Awards at the Royal Albert Hall, gathered stars of stage (and screen) to celebrate standout contributions to theatre over the past year. Presenting the award for ‘Best Actress in a Supporting Role’ was Minnie Driver.

It felt poignant: she currently stars in The Faithful: Women of the Bible, a six-episode Fox mini-series which reimagines well-known biblical stories from a female perspective, and makes women the central characters.” Read more at Woman Alive…

Be better, be Punk

London punk 1970s - 50 years of punk music
From Museum of Youth Culture on Instagram.

“At the last General Election, I spoiled my vote. In the booth at my local polling station, I quietly pressed a stubby pencil into the ballot paper and wrote ‘BE BETTER’ across all the boxes. When I threw open the curtain, I was met with quizzical looks; a feeling of anarchy was burning in my heart. I felt so good. It was one small act of resistance against a political class I felt kept letting people down. I wanted them to be better, I believed they could be. But how?

50 years ago, there was a real troublemaker in town. One that dared to defy both the Establishment – and established thinking. Bursting onto the music scene in 1976; Punk was a musical force. Its anarchic energy and bold attitude bumped up against everything, to change the cultural landscape forever.” Read more at Seen and Unseen

The echo of ‘Blue Lines’

Massive Attack's Blue Lines at 35 - part of the Bristol Sound.

Massive Attack’s debut album Blue Lines is 35. Wow.

Blue Lines is one of those albums that shaped my taste in music. As a teenager, Trip-hop just grabbed me and inspired me, together with the whole ‘Bristol Sound’ that Blue Lines embodied. It was a sound I felt I knew already from the music I had been into from a young age but it had never been imagined quite like this. It had all the influences I loved and it had that propulsive beat. Plus plenty of heart and soul. It had something to say too, it wasn’t neutral – I felt it stood for something important.

It would end up inspiring me beyond just listening to the music. At 18 I moved to Bristol for university – in large part because of the Bristol Sound and the whole Bristol music scene. I wanted to be part of it all. And I was, both as a music-lover exploring the music scene at club nights and gigs, and later as a musician – in a small way – playing local gigs at venues on the Bristol ‘circuit’. I’d often see Bristol’s musicians, including members of Massive Attack, around the city – but that’s just Bristol for you.  

BBC6 Music have been covering Blue Lines’ anniversary and the legacy of this album. Listening to their ‘Deep Dive into Blue Lines‘ documentary on BBC Sounds I was reminded that Punk (along with Reggae, Dub and sound-system culture) hugely influenced Massive Attack’s sound, and the approach of a whole generation of Bristol musicians. In Cameron McVey’s words (who together with Neneh Cherry urged Massive Attack into the studio to record): “everyone I know from our generation in the Bristol scene got the first impetus from Punk to actually ‘have a go’. For me Massive Attack is a continuation of that smash and grab ethos of Punk where you take ideas and ideals from right, left and centre [and] mash them around into a weird kind of montage”. Punk’s influence cannot be underestimated – its DIY approach gave people such a sense of permission – and without that we wouldn’t have so much of the music and culture we’ve enjoyed over the last 50 years.

Up to the present day the sound of Bristol is influenced by a sense of resistance. Even though the music now differs from the ‘Bristol Sound’ of the 90s and noughties it carries this spirit within it. It is the sound of Bristol – quite literally.You can read more about the Bristol music scene: from Trip-hop to post-Punk and everything in between, (including the Punk that preceded it) in this piece I wrote on evolving the Bristol Sound. The common thread running through it all is Bristol’s spirit of resistance, which cannot be divorced from its music. Time and place – and the people involved with all of their own experiences – are critical. You wouldn’t have Trip-hop or the ‘Bristol Sound at all; were it not for when it all occurred and where – a collision of influences and people and experiences. It tells the story of the past and present, of a particular place and time – all distilled in and through the music.

© Alexandra Noel 2026. All rights reserved.

The healing power of the arts

A woman painting a picture as a way to find healing through the arts and creativity.

“A new book, Art Cure by Daisy Fancourt, explains why engagement in the arts can actually improve health outcomes as well as contribute to our overall wellbeing. Dr Fancourt is Professor of Psychobiology and Epidemiology at University College London, and has built up a body of evidence from scientific studies over several decades to show that creativity and the arts do our bodies and minds serious good.” Read more at Woman Alive magazine…

What’s behind the Manosphere?

Louis Theroux

“Louis Theroux’s documentary Inside the Manosphere sheds an uncomfortable light on the male influencers known for disseminating misogynistic content across social media channels, podcasts and websites. Its main proponents include figures like Andrew Tate, as well as a whole host of others who are just as notorious, at least within the Manosphere itself. Drawing heavily on the film The Matrix for its central idea, this inspires the term ‘red-pilled’, which means to wake up to the realities of the world as the Manosphere sees them. Namely, that men are oppressed by women and therefore unable to succeed within this paradigm.” Read more at Woman Alive magazine…

Creativity is in the (genetic) code

Our DNA tells us what it means to be human.

If you read my previous post you will already know that I’ve been reading a lot of James Baldwin lately. And that one of the reasons his writing resonates with me is because it feels like music; specifically like jazz – which he said intentionally shaped his style. You can feel it in his cadence and phrasing; the sense of improvisation giving it an energy and freshness that continues to play across the decades and inform our present moment.

It was therefore, serendipitous (or maybe just algorithmic) when – shortly after I wrote it – I came across an article from the Institute of Art and Ideas (the people behind HowTheLightGetsIn Festival), on how music and creativity are in our very DNA. The article by molecular biologist Ewa Grzybowska, sets out how the existing paradigm for how DNA works (established by Crick and Watson), has been largely superseded in recent years. 

A DNA helix with music notes and a treble clef coming out of it illustrated an article by Alex Noel, writer and digital marketer.
Composite image by author.

The Science Bit

She explains that the established understanding – that DNA codes only for well-ordered, well-structured proteins is now basically redundant. And rather than a machine-like, linear, ‘1+1=2’ process (where one gene produces one structure which has one function), it is in fact something more akin to improvisation. While DNA sequences code for proteins, there are also non-coding sequences. This ‘superfluous’ genetic material was initially thought to be ‘junk DNA’ (even though this would have been jarringly inefficient for any cell to have), until its vital function was unearthed. It gets transcribed into non-coding RNA molecules which have separate functions from the RNAs involved in making the proteins themselves. And which operate as a “vast pool [of RNA]…involved in the regulation of gene expression” both before and after the DNA itself is transcribed. This, Grzybowska says, opens up the “vast new planes” of regulation and is responsible for this paradigm shift in how DNA is now understood. Meanwhile, they also found that some proteins can change their function, effectively moonlighting in other tasks; while others can change their structure, folding differently despite retaining the same genetic sequence. And then there are proteins with no stable structure at all – completely disordered, able to shape-shift according to their functionality. DNA is therefore less a blueprint and more a text to be interpreted.

What it all means

In other words, genetic material and proteins in a cell are agile; able to adapt and respond to changes in the wider environment. And rather than a production line, cell activity is “fluid, improvisational, and brimming with creative possibility”. Our DNA operates more like a live group of jazz musicians riffing and responding to each other and to what’s happening in the room.

It feels helpful to consider this when our present moment is forcing us more and more, to define what it is to be human, especially as we reckon with AI. But being human, may well come down to some very basic biological facts – the fundamentals, rather than anything high-minded or philosophical. If music and creativity are in fact coded into our very cells, what does that mean for our overall operating system as human beings? And therefore, how we can operate it well? Encoded in our DNA is this essence of creativity, immutably printed into our cells. More than that, it forms a responsive, collaborative and improvisational operating system which makes creativity central to our very lives and existence.

Creativity and being our most human

Recent studies, and books such as Art Cure by Daisy Fancourt, lend weight to the fact that we can only hack the human operating system so far. One thing we can’t get around is our need to create – to make things. Art, and creativity, in all its forms – is good for us. It is good for our basic humanity – our minds, bodies and spirits. A particularly powerful dynamic happens when we fulfil a creative idea and make it real ourselves, it might be taking a simple action, or making a drawing, painting, a piece of writing or sculpture, or anything else we might call “something we created”. When we create something with our own hands, whether it’s a paper aeroplane or an oil painting – there is an unmistakeable sense of exhilaration that accompanies that hand-eye-brain connection. And when we’re totally absorbed by it, giving it our full attention. But if we outsource our creativity entirely – both in terms of our thinking and our creative execution, to something that does it ‘for’ us, where does that leave us? We also risk missing out on the process of collaboration: the satisfaction of co-creating with others, and the joyful connection that can bring.

We need to ask ourselves what exactly are we gaining? And more critically, what are we losing? We may gain in productivity and output, but this can soon become a tyranny in itself. Sales pitches I’ve seen from AI companies are often based on a promise that their products will win us back valuable time, but this is a fallacy. Instead they drive more and more productivity. At a recent event I attended, several entrepreneurs declaimed the power of using AI agents to run parts of their businesses. Only to also confess that they were now working double their original hours, rather than using the time they’d won back for their own leisure or to be with their families. In one case, a founder said with a hollow laugh, that as a result of using AI, his 80 hour work week was now more like 160 hours.

There are already strong suggestions that AI can limit creativity and homogenise thought, if you’re in the habit of outsourcing those things to it. Though it may be wildly convenient to have the work done for you, without any of the struggle inherent in doing the work ourselves, we might be losing something more essential to our humanity in the process, injuring our capacities for genuine originality and human ingenuity. For something to feel worthwhile it often needs to cost us something – that it took some effort on our part. It’s that effort which intrinsically connects us to it. And it’s in our essential nature to create, we’re wired to make things, whether we think of ourselves as creative or not. It’s right there in our biology – in our very cells and DNA: that being human is having the ability to say: “I made that” with 100% conviction.

© Alexandra Noel 2026 All right reserved.

‘Have you considered reading any James Baldwin?’

Books including James Baldwin.

On reading and writing and literacy and… jazz

Below you’ll find some of the books I’ve read and enjoyed over the last few months… plus a few ‘next ups’ (Good Girl and Butter) and one currently in progress. Those I’ve read already come highly recommended. As for the others, I’ll just have to let you know about those. In any case, this is a shameless article about books, and for yesterday’s World Book Day no less, but it is also about literacy and something I’m really excited to be part of this year. Read on to find out more.

Book list

  • Go Tell it on the Mountain – James Baldwin
  • Good Girl – Aria Aber
  • Butter – Asako Yusuki
  • Ways of Seeing – John Berger
  • Night People – Mark Ronson
  • Notes of a Native Son – James Baldwin
  • Giovanni’s Room – James Baldwin
  • Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow – Gabrielle Zevin
  • The Fire Next Time – James Baldwin
  • Homesick for Another World – Ottessa Moshfegh
  • Another Country – James Baldwin
  • The Lonely Londoners – Sam Selvon

When I posted this list on Instagram one friend responded wryly (and accurately): “Have you considered reading any James Baldwin :)” And yes, there is A LOT of James Baldwin, I’m definitely going through a phase. Let me explain.

Escaping the algorithm

A few months ago I decided to escape the algorithm that would invariably send me adverts for all the latest book releases, and instead let ‘IRL’ guide my reading choices. So rather than being influenced by digital marketing (which in theory I’m all for especially if you’re the one trying to market a great idea or a product you really believe in) I decided to let myself be directed by my immediate surroundings. And it has been so refreshing.

Alongside being a writer and digital marketer, I do quite a bit of cat sitting. Often I will be staying in other people’s homes and looking after their cats. Last summer, rather than buying the latest book on Amazon, I decided to limit my reading choices to either the bookshelf in the living room, or the books in the bedroom I was sleeping in. This approach has introduced me to a panoply of new authors and books I’ve only ever glanced at before. I also joined my local library, which happens to be quite large with lots of choice. So that too, has been a brilliant non-digital / real-world / analogue (*delete as appropriate) way to find new books to read which doesn’t depend on endlessly scrolling my social feeds.

And so, when it came to choosing my next great read, I would take my time, and stand quietly in front of the bookshelves. Just letting my attention rest on books I’d not seen before, or those I had heard of and always wanted to read. No hurry, or compulsion. I then might take a book off the shelves, hold it for a moment, turn it over in my hands and read the back, before skimming a few pages and deciding whether to read this one or not. And then I’d either set it down on the coffee table or at my bedside ready to read later, or put it carefully back on the shelf. This approach has been leading me to lots of great books that I don’t think I would have read otherwise. Perhaps I thought they were too old-school, or they just didn’t come into focus long enough for me to notice. 

This is how I finally read a book by the great James Baldwin. And I can tell you now, his writing has impacted me more than I could ever imagine since I read him for the first time last Autumn. Better late, than never. And this feels like just the right time in so many ways. I started off with reading Another Country which I found on a library shelf, and was a very good place to start. I have since read four more books by him; The Fire Next Time, Giovanni’s Room, Notes of a Native Son. And I’m currently reading Go Tell it on the Mountain. The way he conveyed and expressed meaning; his craft, blows me away. I’m basically in love with his writing; it is tender, heart-breaking, incisive, inspiring, angering, confronting. It is very very good.

Music and social commentary

There are two things I especially love about his writing:

Firstly, it feels like music to me: the phrasing, the cadence, the rhythm and the way the words sound together. Most of all it feels like jazz, there’s that sense of push and pull, and a freshness that reminds me of improvisation. As someone who’s really ‘into’ music, the experience of reading words that feel musical really resonated with me. One thing I take a lot of pleasure in when I write, is channelling my musicality into it. When I wanted to understand more of this I discovered that James Baldwin’s writing style was strongly influenced by music, he said this: “I think I really helplessly model myself on jazz musicians and try to write the way they sound”. And boy, did he…

Secondly, what I’ve read so far (and there’s a lot more to read), whether fiction, essays or memoir – contains a searing social commentary on the world he moved through. His insights into what it means to be American and a person of colour are totally confronting, accompanied by a clear-eyed perspective on white sensibilities and how they have shaped the dominant culture in the West. It has shed a lot of light on our present moment and the way in which American culture imagines itself. He was an observer, a true artist, and someone who didn’t conform. He could put himself into the shoes of people very different to him to connect with them – writing with an empathy and tenderness which drew out their essential humanity. This approach is so inspiring, as is the way he used his creativity to hold up a mirror to society, where would we be without it? His work stands the test of time and still feels so relevant, and I’m learning so much from it.

There’s a lot more to say about James Baldwin and each of these books I list above, but that’s for another time. And now for what I mentioned at the beginning:

Writing and reading are totally intertwined, you can’t do one well without the other, (whichever tools you’re using). That’s why, this year I’ve become a National Year of Reading champion with the National Literacy Trust. If you’re looking for someone to talk enthusiastically about books, reading… (and writing), and literacy in general – do get in touch. I’d love to help!

© Alexandra Noel 2026 All rights reserved.

Faith, truth and romanticising Wuthering Heights

"Wuthering Heights" with Jacob Elordi and Margot Robbie

The case for re-reading Emily Brontë’s book

"Wuthering Heights" with Jacob Elordi and Margot Robbie

“Wuthering Heights”, Emerald Fennell’s new film based on the classic tale by Emily Brontë, paints a starkly different story from the original book. While the title’s quotation marks are absolutely necessary, perhaps don’t take one reviewer’s advice urging cinema-goers not to bother reading the book at all. If anything the film makes a strong case for revisiting it.” Read more at Woman Alive magazine