The Big Comeback of Analog and Why It Matters More Than Ever

Chihiro steps out from the comfort of the world she knows – fast-moving, rushed, a little gloomy – and into the frightening, but beautiful, Spirit Realm. A city of glowing lights over calm water, things that are and aren’t, a blending of the old world and one completely unknown. Chihiro begins as a little girl upset at having to move away from her friends and her home, throwing tantrums and pleading with her parents as her old life gets left behind.

The family takes a pit stop on their journey, and, upon stumbling into a beautiful, forgotten town floundering in greenery, Chihiro’s parents find themselves trapped in the spirit world. Fleeing far from her childish behaviour, Chihiro enters into a strange new world, one that does not have the same luxury, that requires hard work. Like many of Miyazaki’s films, Spirited Away is a beautiful exploration of the danger of greed and a society ridden with hustle-culture. It is a blend of fantasy, an environment of bright green and crystal blue water, of dappled sunlight and shining jewels.

Miyazaki, Nostalgia & Analogue Technology

For many of us, Miyazaki evokes a feeling of gentle nostalgia, even in worlds that are so far from our own. He takes us to a time where nature takes primacy, a world of real, tangible technology. A bathhouse, run by coals and levers, orders handwritten on paper, humans or even spirits, take the starring role. An analogue world that quietly pushes back against the rapidity of the new technologies. 

Shinrin-Yoku & Our Craving for Nature

The Japanese philosophy of shinrin-yoku, or the art of forest-bathing, is truly the art of appreciating nature. As the name suggests, shinrin-yoku is to immerse oneself completely in a forest, bathing in its peaceful environment and taking a step away from our usual, urban environments.

We, at the root of it all, crave simple beauties. We enjoy understanding how things are done, we adore the tactile experience that comes with the world of analogue – turning the weathered pages of an old book, placing the needle gently on an old vinyl – and we sometimes need a break from the digital. 

The Analogue Comeback

Our bodies are unlike the digital world that dominates our everyday lives. Humans make errors, we create friction, and the time of the analogue reflects this flawed humanity. While our lives might be filled with phones, instant messages, and computers, analogue is far from gone. In fact, some may say it’s making a comeback.   

Like Chihiro, we mustn’t let our lives pass us by; we need to experience the world through the physical. Bookstores have not become obsolete, records are spinning their music, and light is still being captured on old film cameras. We made the world to mirror and reflect the way our brains think, the way it gathers and processes information; we made a world in order to understand it. As much as the technological world is one of advancement and progress, it seems we must also know how and when to step back. 

The Question of Disconnection

Yet, the question quietly looms: Is it possible to really be technologically unreachable? Is it possible to actually gather the courage and sever the link between the digital and the analogue? It is undeniable that technology is here to stay, but, like everything, we need to have limits.

Our lives are our own, and despite what some people might like us to believe, being inaccessible sometimes is not simply a want, but a need. Our brains are not designed for this type of constant information, and just because it is normalised does not make this technology addiction ‘normal’. Turning towards the world of analogue is one that prioritises our mental health, a quiet rebellion against digital dependency. 

Finding Breath in an Overstimulated World

There is something about the analogue world, something that extends beyond simple nostalgia and encapsulates a need deep within me. Like for most of us, my mind works best when allowed the room to think. The digital world is entertaining, sure, but it is a rush of dopamine, a constant grabbing of the attention span.

Learning from Chihiro, I’ve found that allowing myself a break from the digital world feels like more than just a detox; it feels like a breath, deep in my lungs, the type of breath I might have only had in my childhood. 

Analogue is rising once again, but not because of nostalgia. No, analogue is still thriving because its logic is instilled within us, in each electrical impulse, in every little processing of light or sound or information.

Analogue presents a strikingly human way of thinking in an increasingly inhuman world. Just like the comeback of analogue, it seems we are inching closer and closer toward the realisation that to move forward, we must also remember the power of our past.