There’s something quietly magical about a stamp. That small square in the corner of an envelope - a symbol of care, connection and the small but deliberate act of sending something by hand.
But change, as ever, is coming.
In a world of supercomputers, artificial intelligence and social media, even writing a postal address feels faintly rebellious - a tiny act of resistance against the scroll and the swipe. And now, Royal Mail’s parent company, International Distribution Services, is working on technology that could one day make stamps redundant altogether.
Its chief executive, Martin Seidenberg, recently hinted at what’s to come… “You can basically buy a combination of numbers that you put on the letter and then post it. So that’s doable.”
So, no more stamps. Instead, an app, an address, a code. Type it in, print it out, stick it on. Efficient, yes. But where’s the joy in that?
When asked whether we’ll still need to write addresses, Seidenberg said, “For now, yes.” That for now, I fear, says everything.
Still, he did admit that stamps mean something to people, thank goodness. “A stamp is something that is emotional for people… it’s always connected with, you know, I made the effort to buy a stamp, I made the effort to put it on - for example, a Christmas card.”
And that’s exactly it Martin. The effort is everything.
Even the head of Royal Mail has said there’s “something quite romantic about a stamp.” I’d like to think that means they’ll keep them for a while yet - for those of us who still find joy in the small rituals: the writing, the sticking, the posting etc.
Because while technology will always find a faster way, it rarely finds a more meaningful one. Does it?
Britain, after all, remains the only country whose stamps don’t bother with its name - just the sovereign’s face. Queen Victoria. The late Queen. Now the King. No ‘United Kingdom,’ no ‘Great Britain.’ Just quietly understood.
And then, of course, there’s the walk to the postbox. That little punctuation mark at the end of a letter - a satisfying ritual in itself. I hope we don’t lose those. They’re so very beautifully British standing proud in their pillarbox red uniform.
So here’s to the humble stamp - and to all the letters it’s carried: birthdays, thank-yous, condolences, congratulations. Long may we keep pressing them into the corners of our envelopes, one small, beautiful act of thoughtfulness at a time.
Until barcodes take over completely, you’ll find plenty of cards still worthy of a stamp at Dear You Paperie.
