It is 2025 and we are still obsessed with the ritual of the signature. We scribble our names on touchscreens, initial every page of contracts, and even dig up witnesses to stand by as we do it. The recent Trump versus Biden autopen debate threw a spotlight on how hung up we are on these formalities and how far that can drift from the real point of an agreement. Trump argued that Biden’s pardons were invalid because he had not personally put pen to paper. Instead, a machine known as the autopen had done the job for him.
It is a very modern dilemma. If a robotic arm traces your signature, is it really your signature? More importantly, is the act of drawing the signature what matters or is it the intent behind it?
Why the Trump autopen debate matters
The autopen is not a new invention. It has been quietly used by politicians and business leaders for decades. Obama used one. Even Trump admitted to using it for what he called unimportant papers. But in this case, the suggestion was that because Biden did not physically hold the pen, the act of agreement was somehow void.
Here is where it gets especially strange. We have decided that a stamp with your name on it is not good enough. Apparently, that is too informal. It has to be written. But not written by you necessarily. So instead, we built a machine that holds a pen and copies your signature for you. Somehow, that satisfies the need for formality. The idea that a stamped or typed signature is not enough, but a robotic pen is, shows just how much the system is clinging to the performance of agreement rather than its meaning. What is the point of that? We are not protecting integrity. We are performing theatre.
A long history of rituals
The obsession with signatures is not new. In medieval England, people sealed agreements with wax stamps because most could not write their names. The seal was the symbol of authority and identity. As literacy grew, signatures replaced seals, but the idea remained the same. It was not about reading the words, it was about performing the ritual.
And that is what much of our agreement process still is today. A ritual. We sign our names, often without reading the full content. We are told to initial every page, to use blue ink not black, and to get a witness to stand by. All these steps are meant to ensure security and authenticity, but many have become empty gestures. Few people read what they initial. Blue ink does not stop forgery in a digital age. Witnesses rarely understand what is being signed.
Take initials, for example. The idea behind them was that by initialling each page, you were confirming you had read and understood that specific bit. But in practice, it suffers from the exact same flaw as signatures. How can anyone prove you actually read and understood the content? All it proves is that you were willing to write your initials. That is it. It is just doubling down on a broken idea. The same can be said for witnesses. They are supposed to offer trust and reassurance that the person signing is who they say they are, and that they did it willingly. But who is verifying the witness? No one. Again, we are layering ceremony on top of ceremony, without ever addressing the core issue: whether real understanding and consent actually exist.
The illusion of understanding
One of the most striking examples is online terms and conditions. We have all scrolled through endless text and clicked "I agree" without a second thought. A study found that 91 percent of people do not read terms and conditions. Among young people, it is even higher. In one experiment, users clicked to give away their firstborn child just to get through a signup form. No one noticed.
We have built a system where ticking a box or scribbling your name is considered informed consent. But that is often not the case. The rituals we use are standing in for real understanding. They create an illusion of agreement when what we should be asking is, did the person actually understand what they were agreeing to?
Why the system doubles down on ceremony
There is comfort in formality. It feels serious and trustworthy. We believe that if someone signs something, especially with a witness or a stamp, then it must be valid. But the truth is, signatures can be forged, rituals can be misused, and people can agree to things they do not fully understand.
The law is beginning to catch up. Courts have ruled that digital signatures are just as valid as handwritten ones. Even a typed name or an X can count as a signature if it was intended that way. But social attitudes are slower to change. Businesses still demand wet ink on paper, often refusing digital alternatives not because they are insecure, but because they feel less real.
And despite the promise of progress, digital agreements have not solved the problem. In fact, in many ways, they have made it worse. What used to be a slow, physical process requiring some effort has become a lightning-fast blur of clicks and prefilled fields. People now sign entire packs of documents in seconds without reading a word. Mass signing has made it even easier to bypass understanding. Worse still, many digital platforms have stripped away what little uniqueness was left. Everyone's signature ends up looking identical, reducing any sense of personal connection or responsibility. We have just moved the problem online and made it more efficient.
And here is a key question no one seems to ask: how do you prove a document has not been changed after it was signed? With paper, at least the ink and page had a physical presence. With digital files, unless the platform builds in proper cryptographic protection or a tamper-proof audit trail, the content could easily be edited post-signature. Most people signing digital contracts would not even know if that protection is in place. So again, we are doubling down on trust without real verification.
We have taken a broken idea and built an entire cathedral of red tape around it. And still, it does not fix the central problem. The whole process is creaking under its own weight.
It is time to shift our focus from form to substance.
What really matters in an agreement
At its heart, an agreement is about two or more people reaching mutual understanding. That is it. Everything else is meant to support that. But too often, the support structures have become the focus. We obsess over whether someone signed with the right pen, in the right place, with the right witness, while ignoring whether they actually knew what they were signing.
We need to design systems that focus on clarity and genuine consent. Not just proving someone was physically present, but confirming they understood the content. Not just storing signed PDFs, but capturing intent and context.
How we are changing things at i agree
At i agree, we think there is a better way. We are building tools that focus on making agreements more human. Instead of hiding information in long documents or relying on old rituals, we use formats people already understand. That means using video to explain key terms. It means giving people the option to record video consent, so it is clear what was agreed and why.
We believe that agreements should be clear, fair, and designed for how people actually behave. That includes embracing digital tools not just for speed, but for better understanding. It is time to move away from rituals that pretend to protect people and towards methods that actually do.
Because at the end of the day, agreement should not be about the ceremony. It should be about trust, clarity, and real understanding. That is what we are working on. And we think it is long overdue.