The Enduring Influence of Dictionaries in a Digital Age

Have you ever accepted a suggestion from a digital writing assistant to swap a word or rephrase a sentence without fully understanding why or whether it truly improved your writing? Before the rise of such digital aides, turning to a physical dictionary was the norm. Previous generations would consult hefty volumes to uncover word meanings, usages, and sometimes etymologies—then make their own linguistic decisions to articulate their thoughts.

In a world dominated by spell-checkers, autocorrect, and artificial intelligence—all capable of making language choices on our behalf—why do we continue to produce and rely on substantial, printed dictionaries?

Dictionaries empower us to write with creativity and perspective, not mere convenience. While AI assistants generate phrases for us, potentially bypassing original thought, dictionaries equip us with the knowledge to wield language expressively and endlessly. They place authority and choice directly in human hands, encouraging us to explore how we wish to convey ideas.

Far from being simple word lists, dictionaries also guide proper usage. Since the pioneering works of Samuel Johnson and Noah Webster, English dictionaries have mirrored the language of distinct communities—illustrated by the differences between the Oxford English Dictionary and Merriam-Webster. These references both reflect and shape language: lexicographers observe public usage to define meanings, while the public relies on lexicographers to confirm shared understanding. This dynamic, combining top-down and bottom-up influences, allows dictionaries to standardize and define the core medium of our culture.

Standard English today is not what it was even a few decades ago. The informal tone prevalent in widespread internet communication has largely displaced formal English in everyday life. Letters from past generations often carried polite but rigid structures, whereas contemporary social and professional messages tend toward informality. Smartphone conventions—such as exclamation points signaling friendly normalcy or ellipses indicating impatience or indifference—permeate communications across professions, making informal writing often appear more capable and authoritative.

While the mainstream acceptance of vernacular English is a recent phenomenon, English-speaking societies have always embraced multiple dialects. Historically, lexicographers often dismissed nonstandard Englishes as unsophisticated and excluded them from dictionaries. Today, there is growing recognition that nations speak a spectrum of Englishes. Consequently, dictionaries now face the task of describing and legitimizing diverse usages rather than merely defining a prestige dialect—a challenge they are uniquely equipped to handle compared to automated alternatives.

The rise of digital writing assistants such as Grammarly and Microsoft Editor intensifies discussions about the role of dictionaries. In 1946, George Orwell emphasized that good writing involves deliberately selecting words for their meaning—a process nurtured by dictionaries but often suppressed by automated tools. Writers referencing a dictionary actively make choices, whereas those relying solely on AI have decisions imposed on them.

For instance, while some AI tools promote consistent, brand-aligned communication and encourage generating text through prompts, critics warn that such ready-made phrases can undermine sincerity and originality. The ease of rewriting sentences with a click risks surrendering genuine thought to mechanized formulae, replacing human creativity with robotic uniformity.

This tension contrasts automated uniformity with human inventiveness. Digital-native approaches offer effortless, derivative expression; traditional methods require active engagement with language—flipping through pages without predetermined answers. One delegates writing authority to machines, the other demands critical thinking from the writer. Without dictionaries serving as comprehensive guides to English’s possibilities, authentic writing becomes nearly unattainable.

Online dictionaries like Wiktionary and Google Dictionary offer some empowerment to writers but often lack rigorous lexicographical standards. For example, listing slang terms like “amazeballs” as synonyms for “astonishing” may not clarify the language’s nuance. Capturing English as it is spoken requires deliberate human judgment. Traditional dictionaries, with their careful scrutiny and advocacy, remain essential as instruments for linguistic exploration rather than mere information aggregation.

Our capacity for self-expression defines both our culture and identity, and dictionaries support this by cataloguing our distinct modes of thought through language. For example, as a Canadian, I take pride in uniquely Canadian terms—words that artificial intelligence systems rarely recognize—such as “eaves trough” or “serviette.”

The forthcoming Canadian English Dictionary, currently in development and the first in over twenty years, plays a vital role in shaping national identity. It adopts an innovative stance, documenting the usage and spelling of uniquely Canadian words, especially those influenced by Indigenous and immigrant communities. This approach values diversity over popularity, both describing words’ origins and suggesting their future evolution—reflecting the choices writers make when selecting language.

As AI-generated, spell-checked, and suggested text becomes increasingly integrated into our writing lives, the need for dictionaries grows—not simply for efficiency or correctness, but to nurture meaningful relationships with language. Forsaking dictionaries in favor of mechanized writing risks eroding both our collective identity and individual expression. These volumes remain crucial companions on our shelves—inviting us to explore, reflect, and surprise ourselves. Without this drive for self-expression and ongoing learning, one must wonder: why write at all?