The Perfect Pen

Nathan C.
The Startup
Published in
3 min readMay 20, 2019

We all use pens. Chances are, if you’re reading this, you’ve got a pen nearby, because you’re probably (in some capacity) a writer. But pens aren’t only for the writers of the world — pens are for students, teachers, mothers, cashiers, lawyers, waiters. Pens are for everyone, but not everyone is for pens.

In the modern world, we have degraded our once-mighty swords of script down to the disposable level. We mass-produce our pens, selling them in egregiously-large multi-packs that just scream “I’m replaceable”. We garishly brand our pens with company logos, handing them out at conferences, forcing them to live short, underappreciated lives. We also gaudily overdo them, turning them into gilded, weighty status symbols to be emphatically placed down next to signature lines.

In the midst of all this misguided multiplicity, however, there stands one pen to redeem pen-kind — a writing instrument with dignity, purpose, character. A ballpoint beauty with soul, designed with the writer in mind: the Pilot G2.

To refresh your memory, the Pilot G2 is a gel-based ballpoint pen with a transparent body, tight rubber grip, and clicky top. It comes in a variety of point sizes to suit the discerning penman: 1.0mm, 0.7mm, 0.5mm, and 0.38mm. I’m a personal fan of the 0.38mm, the ultra-fine: sharper lines, quicker-drying ink, and an extra significant digit to remind me just how special this pen is.

And boy, is it special. Back in elementary, where clout was measured by the contents of your pencil pouch, the G2 was just about the best thing you could have: a satisfyingly clicky pen that wrote like a dream. Plus, when you were bored, you could practice your budding engineering skills by disassembling and reassembling it, even turning it into a spring-loaded cap-shooter if you were really astute.

Unlike snobbish luxury pens, the Pilot G2 is affordable, and unlike silly imported pens (*cough, MUJI, cough*), it’s accessible — nearly every store’s stationery section has got them. For the environmentally conscious user, the ink cartridges are replaceable. There are small versions of the pen for travel, mechanical pencil versions for erasability, even fashion-printed ones for groove. The Pilot G2 is like the plain white tee of pens — for the everyman.

For a while, I forgot about the Pilot G2. I appreciated using one whenever I could, but I didn’t actively seek them out. I bounced from pen to pen without care — after all, it is just a pen, right? Surely it’s not about the vessel that delivers the ink so much as the actual content of the writing, whatever that may be. I seemed to implicitly believe that for a while, and thus, the contents of my pencil pouch were consistently transient, the ink lines on my pages forever fluctuating in thickness, shade, and hue. I’d gladly accept trashy company swag pens, thinking “Hey, I’ll probably lose it soon anyways” or “If it breaks, I’ll just find another”. But something wasn’t quite right.

Writing is sacred. It’s a deeply personal practice borne of genuine intention. When we use shitty pens, we deny our writing its rightful dignity. It’s a mindless action for an incredibly mindful activity. I finally realized this a few months ago, and when I decided to make a change, I knew exactly the pen for the job.

My pen’s got soul. My pen writes beautifully. And most importantly, my pen reminds me that writing is sacred.

P.S. not sponsored by Pilot

--

--