Ever since they entered common usage, emojis have given me a mild case of neurosis.

Somehow they feel fake to me, something we click on when we know we should respond but don’t wish to take communicative risks.

But give the devil his due. Surely there’s a time and place for niceties. Sometimes it’s just easier to select a little yellow face than wrestle those harsh chunks of text into intelligible sentences. Also, it is worth noting that the oldest languages are pictographic; the impulse to communicate with symbols and pictures precedes our embrace of alphabets.

I get all of that. I think my curmudgeonly attitude comes from my sense that emojis diminish our language skills more than they enhance them. I have the distinct, though perhaps unfounded, impression that we are now more tepid in our written correspondence.

Because of their sizzle and flair, emojis, rather like all caps, can give us the illusion of being expressive. But selecting a picture, even if we choose from a smörgåsbord of options, doesn’t usually make demands on us. And if it’s true that love requires sacrifice, then what is the quality of that kind of communication?

My theory is that with a truly pictographic language, people are less likely to be relationally lazy. For starters, the symbols and pictures in their languages are far more varied and complex than the ones in English. Whereas in our own linguistic evolution emojis mostly create anxiety and mess with reality. (Insert snooty arched-brow emoji.)

I will never forget listening to an interview with a man who co-designed the heart emoji for likes on social media. If memory serves, his name was/is Sean Parker and he worked for Facebook. He admitted that he and his colleagues designed the heart emoji to trap people into using Facebook more frequently and compulsively. They hoped users would not only post, but that they would return to it multiple times to see how many likes it received (or for some poor schmucks, to see if it got any likes at all). Their goal was literally to create pathologies among the citizenry.

I too want to show warmth and affirmation when I communicate (well, usually anyway), but I remain unconvinced that emojis are the only way, or even the best way, to do it. It’s a cliche, but the best communication happens face to face. Alternatively we could, heaven forbid, revive the quaint practice of calling someone. Not to get all sentimental, but at least when we still called people, we could hear voice inflection. (A version of calling has survived, namely leaving voice notes, though modern etiquette seems to condemn the tedious, podcast-length messages and perhaps for good reason.)

Sometimes written communication is necessary. When it is, we should roll up our sleeves and invest at least a modicum of thought and creativity. If a shiny emoji facilitates this endeavour then sobeit.

Riddle: What sets humans apart from beasts, AI, and demagogues? Answer: Their ability to communicate with all the elements of real communication.

With words and emojis alike, they are useful only to the degree that they help us accomplish that goal.