The question “Paper or plastic?” evokes memories of grocery stores in many people. But it is now 2010, and that question can be better applied to the means of acquiring information — it can be better applied to the medium used to read books.

Now that Thanksgiving has passed, the official shopping season for Christmas has begun. I do lots of reading, and I know many other people who do as well. One of booksellers’ more popular items this year is the electronic reader device. For the sake of simplicity, I will discuss in particular Amazon’s Kindle. Using the Kindle, you can download and store digital copies of thousands of books in the palm of your hand for reading at any time.

I have an early model of one of these e-reader devices. I never use it. One of the reasons it sits up on my closet shelf is because, for all the device’s potential utility, I find it lacking. The satisfying experience of reading an actual book is not given by an electronic reader.

Sure, you can take notes and mark pages in a Kindle edition of a book. But they don’t actually exist. Like any digital collection of information, they — like the book itself — are mere sequences of ones and zeroes passing through the medium of a computer screen.

You cannot write on the title page of one of these books and pass it on to a friend. On several occasions, I have given or received such personalized books. Simply put, such gifts are a way of connecting to other people.

In giving books to others, we give a part of ourselves — the recipient is allowed to see, particularly if the book is marked up, into a part of our lives. The scrawled handwriting in a margin and the colors highlighting certain passages can all tell you about the owner and his thoughts.

Even the ease with which e-books can be acquired is disturbing. Newer versions of the Kindle allow the user to access the Internet wirelessly, much like a laptop computer or smart phone. One version is equipped with 3G wireless, eliminating the need to remain within range of a wireless Internet network. You never have to log onto a computer to purchase a new book.

Ease of access is wonderful, but is there not a time and place for every purpose? Do we really need instantaneous access to our desires?

More troubling than that, though, is the fact that you never need to visit a bookstore to find something new and exciting to read. Isn’t that part of the whole point to reading and education generally? If you don’t read to be connected to a wider world, why is that book sitting open in front of your face?

Reading truly takes you places. But that doesn’t apply only to your imagination. A desire to read should physically take you places. Bookstores are full of interesting people all trying to do the same thing as you.

Simply searching for books on a shelf leads you to others that are similarly intriguing. Last week I went to Borders, just to spend time. I made for the history section, like always, and noticed a book that seemed interesting. I pulled it off the shelf, read the description and the author’s biography, and paged through it. When I replaced it, I noticed what looked like another interesting read. And another, and another, and another. By the time I left the store, I had jotted down the titles and authors for a dozen books.

A large part of the reason for doing anything is the challenge associated with it. A life without challenges is an empty, cheap one. Before the advent of the e-reader, finding something to read was much more of a challenge. Acquiring it was another.

Effortlessness cheapens the experience of the activity. Ours is a culture of instant gratification. We keep the collected information of all the ages within an arm’s reach. And in so doing, we have lost sight of its treasured qualities.

Go buy real books. Their digitized copies may be accessible, but they aren’t genuine. They are only abstract, intangible representations of the original works. “You cannot kiss an idea, cannot touch it, or hold it … ideas do not bleed, they do not feel pain, they do not love.”

As the man I encountered at the University of Oxford’s New York office said, “Sit down and have a read.” Just make sure you’re holding paper, not plastic.