But English demands
Why? Linguists have a working theory. In Old English, the word for the self was ic (pronounced "itch"), which naturally evolved into ich in Middle English (as Chaucer would have written: "Ich am a knight"). Over time, the hard "ch" sound was dropped in many dialects, reducing the word to a single, fragile vowel: "i." But English demands Why
What you just pronounced is the closest thing language has to a pure act. It is not a description of a chair or a feeling or a memory. It is the pointer itself. It is the act of pointing. Over time, the hard "ch" sound was dropped
In poetry, the lyric "I" is not necessarily the author. It is a character—a stand-in for any human who feels what the poet felt. When Walt Whitman wrote, "I sing the body electric," he was not just speaking for Walt Whitman. He was lending his "I" to you, the reader. He was saying: You, too, are allowed to sing this song. It is the act of pointing
Yet the irony is delicious. A practical solution to a typographic problem became a psychological monument. Every time you write "I," you are visually announcing your importance on the page. You are saying, in effect: Look here. This matters. For philosophers, "I" is not a word. It is a problem.