On being a Dvorak typist
I've been a Dvorak typist since 2001. This means instead of typing of something that looks familiar to most of us:
My keyboard functions like this:
Wait, is this some kind of a joke?
I know it may look like a prank, but I assure you it's not. The Dvorak keyboard layout is simply a different way to input letters and symbols into a computer. This is great for folks who don't want to stick to QWERTY.
Why? What's wrong with QWERTY?
Did you ever wonder why the keys on a typical QWERTY keyboard layout are arranged the way they are? There was a common belief that frequent combinations of letters were placed in a way to minimize the chance of the corresponding typebars jamming on mechanical typewriters. That sounded plausible—typing was done on typewriters before computers, and resetting jammed typebars could be a hassle when you were in the middle of a fast-paced typing fury. A keyboard layout that “slows down” a typist might just do the trick.
Neither of the assertions are actually true. Simulations show that a typical manuscript of English text does not contain letter combinations that lead to particularly frequent typebar jamming on a QWERTY typewriter. The layout was not designed to slow down typists either.
There are, however, several quirks inherent with the QWERTY layout:
- Many common letter combinations require awkward finger motions.
- Some common letter combinations are typed with the same finger (e.g.
ed,de). - Many common letter combinations require jumping over the home row (e.g.
no,mu,cr,br,my). - Many common letter combinations are typed with one hand while the other sits idle (e.g.
was,were). - About 56% of typing is done with the left hand, which for most people is not the dominant hand.
- Only 32% of typing is done on the home row, 52% on the top row, and 16% on the bottom row.
In fact, there aren't that many commonly used English words that can be typed entirely on QWERTY home row. Unless you are someone who collects flasks in Alaska while eating alfalfa during an ashfall, your hands have to jump up and down all the time when typing on QWERTY.
Also, if you are working on aftereffects on addresses over federated areas, what are you doing with your right hand at all? Your left hand is doing all the work while your right hand sits completely idle!
So how is the Dvorak layout “better” then?
Once again, here is the Dvorak layout:
You will notice that on the home row, you find the vowels A E I O U on the left (Y is on the top row above I); whereas the most common consonants in the English language D H T N S are on the right. The next more common consonants are on the right, and less common consonants are on the left. Punctuation symbols are tucked away at the corners.
This already brings about a few ergonomic advantages:
- As much as 70% of typing is done on the home row, 22% on the top row, and 8% on the bottom row. Your hand doesn't need to dance up and down the keyboard as much.
- With most English words having more consonants than vowels, and vowels punctuating clusters of consonants, you are constantly alternating between hands while you type, which creates rhythm, balances the load, and reduces fatigue.
- The right hand does 54% of the typing, while your left hand does 46%—for most people whose dominant hand is the right hand, this is better.
I'm already a proficient typist on QWERTY. Why do I want to switch?
You may not want to. QWERTY is “good enough” for most people. For me though, there are several benefits:
- It is really comfortable on my hands. The fact that my fingers stay on the home row most of the time has made a significant difference.
- It also helps that I get to alternate typing on the left and the right hand at a steady rhythm.
- Not an intended outcome: my typing speed improved after I had fully retrained. I used to average at about 60–70wpm on QWERTY. I can easily reach 100wpm on Dvorak.
Another unexpected outcome was that the Dvorak layout has brought a physical layer of security. Since most people only know how to type on QWERTY, when someone gets a hold of my computer unlocked and try to do something malicious, the keystrokes don't “come out right” for them. They get frustrated and stop.
This prevented coworkers from changing my desktop wallpaper as a prank on a few rare occasions I forgot to lock my computer before stepping away. They thought my keyboard was broken.
Don't you need to purchase a specialized keyboard for this?
No. The Dvorak layout comes pre-installed on virtually all operating systems since the 1980s. You just need to go to system settings and enable it. The system software will “re-map” all the keys accordingly.
After you switch the keyboard layout, the keystrokes will no longer match the print on the physical keyboard itself.
Wait! Isn't that confusing?
Only if you rely on “hunt and peck” typing. Most people who decide to switch to Dvorak also learn to touch-type—meaning they train their muscle memory on which key goes where, so that they don't need to look at the keyboard as they type.
But if you need to hunt and peck, you can purchase commercially available keyboard stickers which let you cover up the existing print on your keyboard.
I'm intrigued. How do I get started?
Simple! Just switch the system setting, and start typing!
I was kidding. It's really not as simple as that, especially if you've been typing on QWERTY for years. Retraining takes concerted effort. But with patience and perseverance, you can do it.
My personal retraining took me three weeks during summer break in between my freshman and sophomore years in university. So I could afford to “lose productivity” during those weeks.
Week 1: Redraw mental map
I decided to go cold turkey on QWERTY, and dive into Dvorak entirely. That means setting aside dedicated time to retrain.
First thing I did was to make my own temporary labels to put on my keyboard. So that if I needed to type something before I finish training, I could still hunt and peck. I printed those labels on plain paper and attached to the key caps with scotch tape, so I could remove them later.
I tried relocating the keycaps, but physical keyboards were contoured, so the end result was very bumpy and weird.
Most of my first week was to find a course that offers a gentle introduction to the keys. My eyes were set on this one:
It may look very rudimentary now. But back in 2001, it was the best “interactive” course out there. You see words and sentences with the keystrokes being introduced, and you try them out in the text area underneath. There were no bells and whistles. But I was there to learn and practice: I didn't need bells and whistles to distract me.
And learn and practice I did. I repeated each lesson until the locations of the keys were mapped in my head, and I didn't need to constantly look at the labels I stuck on the keycaps anymore.
By the end of an intensive Day 1, I was done with the home row. Look at all the words and sentences I was able to type without extending my hands beyond the home row!
And that was just the first day.
Mind you, my muscle memory was still very much attached to QWERTY at the time. I was fighting old habits. I felt crippled at my own keyboard, continually plonking my fingers where they shouldn't have gone. I made many mistakes along the way. But that was par for the course.
Week 2: Practice for fluency
I finished the training course during Week 1. Every time I typed, it felt like advanced gymnastics for hand-eye-brain coordination, and I didn't have good hand-eye coordination in the first place.
I persisted though. Week 1 has come and gone, and my typing was… “usable”. I could type things out, but I was slow. I was making mistakes. The keyboard layout didn't feel quite completely foreign to my hands anymore, but my hands still didn't feel at home either.
Week 2 was about turning a foreign feeling into the familiar. I repeated the lessons, but I started looking for things to type. I retyped articles and stories that I could get my hands on. I started writing emails and blog posts again.
At some point, it clicked. The temporary synapses were converted into more stable ones. My fingers were starting to embrace the gentle dance that Dvorak afforded them, rather than the mosh pit that was QWERTY.
By the end of Week 2, I was “fluent”. I still wasn't typing at the same speed (60–70 wpm) before I converted, but it was no longer a straining exercise. I was able to touch type without needing to consciously think about which key was where. And if I forget, the makeshift labels are still attached.
Week 3: Practice for speed
As I gained confidence with the keyboard layout and knowing where all the keys are in the back of my head, I was able to focus on typing and less on hunting. Week 3 was about picking up speed.
There is no secret to it. Typing involves muscle memory, and the only thing you can do you improve it is to practice.
Without the need to hunt for specific keys, typing was no longer a chore. And all the pent up energy in not being able to express myself fluently, got released in a major way in Week 3.
I typed and typed and typed and typed some more. It didn't matter what it was. I could have been writing emails, blog posts, fiction and poetry, coding, or copying lyrics etc. I didn't care. My fingers just wanted to be placed on the keyboard, and perform the new elegant Dvorak dance that they have just mastered. They wanted to show off to the world how they floated on their new found stage.
And faster and faster they tapped and hopped and jumped and danced. They had gone from confused, sad fingers just three weeks before, to joyous, content fingers.
By the end of Week 3, I had regained my previous speed of 60–70wpm with consistency. In the weeks and months to follow, I noticed that I even bested my previous consistent typing speed. I was able to type more for longer, with much less stress on my wrist.
I ripped off all the makeshift labels from my keycaps and threw them in the trash can. From that day on, it was touch-typing all the way.
I now consistently type at some 100wpm with Dvorak. That's quite enough for me. That speed is often faster than my own speed of thought—especially when I need to organize what I'm trying to say.
Epilogue
It's been 24 years since I had retrained to be a Dvorak typist. I don't regret spending three weeks of my life being incommunicado. At the end it was well worth it. I can still type on QWERTY nowadays, but I only do it when I absolutely have to.
I start hearing from my former colleagues that their hands are getting random pains from typing all day. The gel rests and wrist bands they get would alleviate the pains mildly, but it bothers them to type and do work.
Like everyone in their 40s, I have my own course of weird random body aches to endure, though wrist pain is not one of them. I have my own morbid curiosity about weird habits and stubbornness to thank for.