Hello, I'm a Disposable Biro.
I'm readily available from your supermarket or office supply store. In fact, you could probably even buy me at most variety stores. My weight fluctuates from supermodel thin to plumber's crack fat but regardless of shape, I still manage to find someone to love me. My skin colour and textures can also be very different - just like yours. My main purpose is to help you convey your thoughts and ideas in a variety of colours and weights, depending on your age or mood.
We're not racist; we often hang out in stores, in groups of 10 or more, together, in harmony. Some prefer black, others red; even relationships with green, blue and purple are not unheard of. I don't carry much emotional baggage really. If you lose or forgot where you left me, you can always find a replacement nearby; either on your desk, under your desk or you can even steal one of me from your friend's supply - they're sure to have a bunch of us too. I try not to get too emotionally involved with you and am reluctant to form lifelong relationships with you because our lifespan can be a little bit of a problem. We generally only live for half our desired (i believe you call it 'advertised') age before we drop out of someone's pocket or simply run out of our life blood and perish from natural causes. We don't feel too bad about this as a species though because our owners, you, don't seem to put too much importance on our existence either.. why? There's just so many of us.
Once one of us die, we're useless. Sure, some can get a little heart starter like a plastic refill but to be honest, it's like getting cancer; sure it's curable but the threat of being diagnosed again is always in the back of your mind. Our culture doesn't really rely on a formal ceremony of closure like a human funeral. We often end up in the gutter, in the bin and eventually in a landfill, never to see your face again. I guess you could consider the landfill a Biro's graveyard. The good thing is we know you don't mind, there's always another one of us to take our place. We used to be worth something; we really did. Humans valued penmanship once too, a long time ago. We were $120 (by today's standards) when we were first brought in to the world, a truly valuable friend. Of course, our popularity simply grew way too fast for your society and soon we found that a polygamist relationship with you was the best we could hope for.
I sometimes get a little sad. I know it's hard for you to relate to our species but if you consider how many of us die or suffer a relationship breakdown everyday, over 1 million, well, I believe you use the word genocide to describe such things. If I had only one dream it would be that we could re-ignite your passion for a personal relationship with us - but alas, our evolution has shown that we simply aren't built for that anymore. We've each got an average lifespan of approximately 6 months and then we join our friends in the landfill. I struggle to understand why humans put such little value on our lives, both while we're working with you but also once we're retired; we simply add to your problems of global warming and prolific waste production. I understand that they're key global political issues at the moment.
My great great Grandad told me of a time of fountain pens and ink. A time where a human kept a pen for their entire lives. Our ancestors meant something to you. If only the manufacturers would stop breeding our generation like battery cage hens would we be able to show you the value in that relationship that seems so long lost now. I believe that change is possible but it needs to start with what you want and what you do - no one in your species listens to a little Biro; even when you see photos of our mass graves. I implore you, both as a pen and as a friend; stop demanding the reckless breeding of us. Form that personal relationship with one of our elite and trust us, we'll lower your risk of fine motor injuries like RSI as well as creating a cleaner, more sustainable world for you and your children.
This was a copy of letter found on my desk, written by my Biro while I was out at lunch. As a designer I go through so many Biro's a year and I've never given a single thought to the waste production of these little, non-recyclable creatures. Now I'm off to go buy a refillable fountain pen and save the world, one Biro life at a time.
- Inspired by David M. Berman's book , "Do good design: How Designers Can Change the World"
