So long, shorthand: Once essential secretarial skill is an art of the past

It's gone the way of milkmen, carbon paper and roller-skating waitresses.

Shorthand.

Although there are still a few who swear by the ease and convenience of writing quickly, accurately and sometimes cryptically, the rest of the world has moved on. And the art of squiggly lines, loops and dots seems relegated to a lost era.

No state-sponsored schools teach the ability to write as fast as a person speaks, nor have they in at least the past decade, said Cindi Blansfield, a supervisor in the office of the state's Superintendent of Public Instruction. And although New York-based publisher McGraw-Hill still prints several shorthand textbooks, the numbers are nowhere near those during the heyday of the 1970s, said spokeswoman Diane Lopez.

Only about 20 percent of the members of the Missouri-based International Association of Administrative Professionals even know shorthand, compared with the majority of secretaries during the 1970s, said spokesman Rick Stroud.

"Thirty years ago, there was no e-mail. ... There were no computers or word processors," he said. "They used only typewriters. And every memo that you had, a manager would have a secretary come in and take a dictated memo."

A two-year school about an hour southwest of Chicago still offers the trio of shorthand classes titled beginning, speed-building and advanced. One company in the area still pays those with the skill more than their counterparts, said Joliet Junior College associate professor Shirley Gehrke. But no one signed up for the speed-building and advanced classes this semester — and last semester, Gehrke had one student.

"It's very slim enrollment," she said.

Nearly useless

Versions of shorthand date back to the ancient Greeks and the Roman Empire, according to the Encyclopedia Britannica. But Gregg Shorthand — the most popular in the United States — was invented by 18-year-old Irishman John Robert Gregg in 1886.

Not to be confused with speedwriting, which is rooted in the alphabet, Gregg Shorthand is made up of symbols that look like a cross between hieroglyphics and cursive English. Based on an elliptical shape, each stroke designates a certain sound and symbols — or forms — designate common words and phrases.

While informal renditions of shorthand continue to evolve, like e-mail slang and acronyms, the formally learned Gregg Shorthand has become an art of the past.

"I hate to say it's useless, but I guess it is," said Kathy Kneifel, who teaches business technology at Everett Community College. "It's much easier to type it into the computer than to write it in shorthand, decipher it and then type it up."

Kneifel, who learned shorthand in high school, now only rarely uses the skill, usually when she wants to write clandestine Christmas lists.

"I don't want my kids to see what I have in mind," she said.

Jan Gould, who teaches software applications at Bellevue Community College, studied shorthand at a Georgia high school. Her first job after graduating was as a stenographer for the FBI in Washington, D.C., where she took down the dictation of letters, memos and reports, and then typed her notes into their final forms.

But in the professional world, those days are long gone.

Like Latin

The first sign of doom for shorthand came with the invention of tape recorders. A person could speak into a recorder and then an assistant would transcribe the words directly into a typewriter, word processor or computer.

The evolution of personal secretaries into administrative assistants reporting to a group of executives solidified the decline of shorthand. Many executives now type their letters and memos themselves, and the number of secretaries continues to drop, going from 3.9 million in 1983 to 2.6 million in 2000, according to the U.S. Census Bureau.

And because it requires at least an hour of practice a day and historically took three semesters of training to learn shorthand, today's administrative assistants would rather spend their time learning spreadsheet and multimedia presentation software, said Stroud, of the administrative professionals association.

And while Gould still finds shorthand useful in her own life, she sees its demise as part of modernization.

"Even typing is going," said Gould, who taught the last shorthand class at Bellevue Community College more than a decade ago. "In 15 years, you might be calling me back asking me what happened to typing. ... Voice tools will have people talking right into their computers."

Marlene Palazzo, a professor of business information technology at Seattle Central Community College, still swears by the convenience of shorthand. She uses it for everything from her day planner and schedule to her phone messages and recipes. Shorthand is also central to her school lectures and presentations.

"I don't think I'd be able to aspire to where I am right now without this ability of efficiency and organization," she said. "And it enhances a person's ability to spell and utilize the English language."

Green River Community College was one of the last schools in the area to offer shorthand classes but finally canceled them after interest continued to decline, said chair of the business division Steve Sauers.

Sauers, who never uses his shorthand abilities, taught it at the school until 1994.

"It's sort of like Latin," he said. "You're much better off for having put yourself through the process of learning it, but you rarely use it."

Gina Kim: 206-464-2761 or gkim@seattletimes.com