Not long ago, a good friend of mine died. We’d known each other for five years or so, exclusively on the internet. Both of us were in university, with bills to pay, and neither of us managed to make it to the other’s side of the Atlantic Ocean to have that drink we talked about.

Steve was deaf; had been his whole life. In normal, physical contact with other human beings, he was handicapped: he had to use a hearing aid or sign language. He couldn’t even talk on the phone normally. But on the internet, he was free—when everyone’s typing, it doesn’t matter if you can’t speak.

This was brought home to me in a fairly forceful fashion the other day, when I lost my voice. A bad cold, the exhaustion of a tough term, and pushing myself too far despite being ill all piled up, and my vocal chords packed up. It was an alien experience: I’m a talkative person, used to communicating easily and adeptly.

Even with my family, who I’m very close to, my ability to communicate was drastically slashed. Signs and body language help, but anything complex needs words, and suddenly I didn’t have them anymore. And yet, when I turned on the computer, this sense of a barrier between other people and myself vanished. Never had typing felt so natural, so like speaking!

I don’t want to turn this into a lecture on why we should all be supporting web standards, so the poor blind kids can read Slashdot, but I do want to show how the internet can be immensely freeing. If Steve had never told me that he was deaf, I would never have known; when it was just text, passing between people, there was no difference between me and him. Having lost my voice, and found it again online, I think I understand that more fully now.