On note-taking

By Noel Galon de Leon

Many people might be surprised to learn that in my Filipino and creative writing classes, I still require my students to bring notebooks even if many of them already own iPads, tablets, and other digital devices. In an age when almost everything can be photographed, recorded, screenshotted, uploaded, and summarized by artificial intelligence, insisting on handwritten notes may appear old-fashioned to some people. But inside the classroom, I have realized more deeply that writing things down by hand is not simply an academic exercise. It is a discipline of attention, memory, reflection, and seriousness.

That is why I prohibit the use of cellphones during my classes. My students are not allowed to take pictures of my slides or simply rely on digital copies of presentations. If they believe that a point is important, then they must write it themselves. They must listen carefully, decide what matters, and process the lesson through their own minds and hands. This may sound strict in today’s educational climate, where convenience often dominates learning, but I have noticed over the years that students who actively take notes become more engaged, more analytical, and more intellectually responsible. They do not merely consume information. They wrestle with it.

Historically, note-taking has always been central to intellectual life. Before there were laptops, before cloud storage, before voice recorders, and before artificial intelligence, scholars, philosophers, writers, journalists, priests, scientists, and political leaders carried notebooks everywhere. Leonardo da Vinci filled thousands of pages with observations and sketches. Writers such as Virginia Woolf and José Rizal maintained journals and notebooks not merely to preserve information, but to sharpen their thinking. Even in ancient times, students of philosophy copied lectures by hand because writing itself helped ideas become permanent. Civilization, in many ways, was built through annotation, marginal notes, and handwritten memory.

There is also a psychological and cognitive reason note-taking remains important. Studies repeatedly show that students who write notes by hand retain information better than those who merely photograph slides or type mechanically. Writing forces the brain to summarize, organize, and prioritize information. It trains concentration in a world that constantly destroys attention spans. In an era dominated by scrolling, multitasking, and digital distraction, note-taking has quietly become an act of resistance against intellectual laziness.

This is why I honestly do not understand the unfair criticism directed at Risa Hontiveros on social media, particularly on Facebook, regarding her habit of taking notes during Senate hearings and public sessions. I have seen people mock her as if note-taking were a sign of weakness, insecurity, or theatricality. But what exactly is wrong with a public official carefully documenting details during discussions that involve laws, corruption, public accountability, national budgets, and the lives of millions of Filipinos?

In fact, what disturbs me more is the opposite. We should be worried about politicians who do not listen carefully, who rely entirely on staff summaries, who speak recklessly without documentation, or who treat Senate hearings as mere performances for television clips and viral social media moments. The Senate is not entertainment. It is not a reality show. It is supposed to be one of the highest spaces of democratic accountability in the country. Every statement, every inconsistency, every figure, and every testimony matters. Serious governance requires serious listening. Serious listening often requires note-taking.

As a teacher, I have learned that the students who diligently take notes are often the same students who later remind me of important details I myself occasionally forget. They become more observant, more organized, and more capable of connecting ideas beyond the classroom presentation. Often, the most valuable insights in a class are not even found in PowerPoint slides or handouts. They emerge spontaneously through discussion, side comments, questions, examples, and reflections. Students who write these things down preserve living knowledge instead of merely archived information.

The same principle applies to politics and public service. A senator who takes notes communicates seriousness. It shows discipline, preparation, and respect for the people speaking before the Senate. It means that details matter. It means testimonies are not disposable. It means that governance still deserves intellectual rigor even in a political culture increasingly dominated by spectacle, trolling, misinformation, and performative masculinity.

What makes the criticism against Senator Risa Hontiveros even more revealing is how many people today have become uncomfortable with visible intelligence, diligence, and preparation in public life. We live in a time when loudness is often mistaken for competence and when performative confidence sometimes receives more praise than actual careful work. A politician who quietly studies documents, takes notes, and asks precise questions may appear less entertaining to the public, but this is precisely the kind of leadership democratic institutions desperately need.

This is why I admire Senator Risa Hontiveros, not only because she takes notes, but because her note-taking symbolizes something larger about her approach to public service. It reflects discipline, accountability, and attentiveness. In a country exhausted by political amnesia, selective memory, historical distortion, and empty rhetoric, perhaps more politicians should carry notebooks instead of merely rehearsing sound bites for social media.

Maybe the real issue is not that she writes too many notes. Maybe the real issue is that many people have already forgotten the value of paying attention.

And perhaps that is exactly why note-taking still matters.

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Noel Galon de Leon is a writer and professor at the University of the Philippines Visayas, where he teaches in the Division of Professional Education and at UP High School in Iloilo. He is also the secretary of the National Commission for Culture and the Arts-National Committee on Literary Arts.