In recent weeks, I’ve seen a surge of ads for a product called the Everpen, accompanied by some bold claims: an unbreakable, elegant, and timeless writing tool designed to outperform every traditional pencil. (I’d normally link to the product page, but it triggers security warnings from BitDefender, so I’m steering clear.) That said, I’ve looked closely at the claims and descriptions attached to Everpen (and similar tools), and I want to break down what they most likely are (in my opinion), how they work, and what you can realistically expect from them.
What a “timeless” or “everlasting” pencil often represents is a modern rebranding of two older ideas in materials science. The first is metalpoint, an ancient drawing method that uses a hard metal alloy tip (traditionally silver, lead, or copper) to create marks by depositing microscopic traces of metal onto the surface of the paper. This occurs as the paper, often slightly abrasive, gradually wears down the tip through friction. The mark itself is formed by this transferred metal, which can later tarnish when exposed to air, producing a soft gray or brownish tone over time. The second mechanism is the graphite–metal alloy core, a slow-wearing composite that functions by abrasion, rather than oxidation. It leaves behind a small amount of graphite-based material, similar to a conventional pencil, albeit at a much slower rate. Neither process is new or “magical”; both depend on friction and material transfer, not on any self-renewing or truly “infinite” principle.
Metalpoint, particularly in the form of silverpoint, has a long and specific history. Although its roots trace back to classical antiquity, the technique gained widespread practice during the late medieval and Renaissance periods. Artists used thin silver wire in a stylus to draw on surfaces coated with a slightly abrasive ground—typically a mix of bone ash, chalk, or lead white. The silver left a faint line that oxidized over time, developing into a warm gray or brownish tone.
Silverpoint was favored for its precision and permanence. The inability to erase encouraged intentionality, and the fine lines were ideal for detailed studies and underdrawings. Artists such as Leonardo da Vinci, Albrecht Dürer, and Filippino Lippi used the technique extensively in both training and finished works. In some ateliers, silverpoint was seen as a tool for disciplining the hand, since it offered little to no margin for correction.
By the 17th century, however, silverpoint gave way to practices using more forgiving materials, such as graphite and charcoal, which allowed for a greater tonal range and could be modified or erased. A modest revival occurred in the 19th and 20th centuries, as artists and historians rediscovered its aesthetic qualities and historical value.
Contemporary products like the Everpen often invoke silverpoint by analogy, but the comparison tends to be superficial. True silverpoint requires a prepared surface and yields marks that evolve in tone over time through tarnish. Modern alloy tips function similarly in that they leave microscopic metal traces through abrasion, but they rarely use actual silver and typically rely on harder metals or composites like aluminum alloys or graphene-metal mixes. These materials are chosen not for their tonal evolution but for their durability and low material loss.
The visual outcome, however, is similar: a fine, light gray line with little variation, more akin to a hard graphite pencil than to any more expressive or more robust mark-making medium. The permanence and subtlety of metalpoint still exist in these tools, but without the richness or material behavior that made silverpoint both demanding and rewarding for earlier generations of artists.
Literature regarding the Everpen claims the use of a multilayer graphene and carbon fiber alloy tip that “writes forever” without requiring sharpening. In theory, graphene’s exceptional tensile strength and stiffness make it highly durable (but tip durability still depends on the properties of the bulk composite rather than graphene sheets alone), so the tip could indeed outlast a standard graphite pencil by many, many times. However, no material that leaves a visible mark can truly last forever. Friction always transfers or alters material, whether by oxidation or micro-abrasion. Available marketing or manufacturer tests on similar composites/alloys show gradual wear after thousands of meters of writing. So to be clear, yes, “never-ending” is a marketing exaggeration. The tip will eventually dull or degrade, even if much more slowly than traditional graphite.
The claim that it “never needs sharpening” is partly true. Hard alloys maintain point geometry longer, but the tip can still flatten or deform with use, especially on textured paper or at steep angles. This type of wear doesn’t look like classic pencil blunting, but it still causes the line to widen and precision to drop. What users interpret as “no sharpening” is really just “very slow blunting,” and in some cases, slow deformation of the tip shape itself.
Interestingly enough, the assertion that it “never smudges” is physically accurate but contextually misleading. While the mark does not consist of loose pigment or graphite that can be smeared by touch relatively easily, it is made from microscopic metal residues that are physically transferred from the tip to the paper through abrasion. These residues adhere tightly to the surface and do not smear under normal conditions. However, this also means the tonal range is extremely narrow (closer to a hard H-grade pencil than to the rich, dark values associated with soft (or low-binder) graphite or other carbon tools.) Even under pressure, these alloy tips typically produce only a faint, silvery gray. From a perceptual standpoint, such marks offer limited control over gradation, edge quality, or layered value, which reduces their usefulness for certain drawing tasks or tonal studies. (Note: exact reflectance depends strongly on film thickness, packing, substrate, wavelength, and measurement geometry; the following figures are representative estimates rather than universal constants.) Optical density measurements indicate that graphite reflects approximately 15–25% of light, whereas carbon black reflects around 5–10%. In contrast, the reflective, pale marks made by metal alloy tips often exceed 30% reflectance, placing them well outside the more traditional tonal spectrum for most perceptual drawing training systems. (Graphite: 15–25% reflectance, Palik 1998; Carbon black: 5–10%, Donnet & Bansal 1993; Metalpoint residue: ~30–40%, based on reflectometry data on silver films.)
Claims about never “running out” may be technically misleading. While there’s no ink reservoir or conventional pencil “lead” inside, the marking process still relies on material transfer. A small amount of metal is abraded from the tip with each use, which means the tip is technically a consumable core (just an extremely slow-wearing one). Over time, it will degrade or dull. The pen’s ability to mark also depends heavily on paper chemistry. Most reliably, the mechanism works on slightly abrasive or prepared surfaces; heavily coated papers may produce faint or inconsistent lines. In some cases, marks may not appear at all, depending on surface coating or texture. While the tool may last far longer than a conventional pencil, it still wears out, and it may not function reliably on all types of paper.
The “replaceable tip” feature is functionally practical but conceptually contradictory. If the product can be disassembled and parts replaced, this may contradict claims of “timeless.” The replacement system simply makes it a modular writing tool, likely no more or less durable than other refillable instruments.
Environmental claims surrounding these modern tools also deserve some caution. While a single aluminum-bodied pen might replace many wood pencils over time, aluminum production is highly energy-intensive, emitting approximately 11 to 15 kilograms of CO₂ per kilogram of aluminum produced (U.S. EPA, 2020; IAI, 2018). This includes both direct emissions from smelting and indirect emissions from electricity use, particularly in regions where coal is a major power source. (Note: using recycled (secondary) aluminum can cut energy and emissions dramatically—on the order of ~95% lower than primary aluminum—so the actual footprint depends on the source mix.) By contrast, wood pencils are biodegradable, and the cedar typically used in premium pencils functions as a carbon sink during its growth (UN FAO, 2015). While the manufacturing and transport of wooden pencils do generate emissions, their overall carbon footprint is significantly lower when responsibly sourced and disposed. The ecological advantage of a metal-bodied writing tool, therefore, depends entirely on its long-term retention and minimal replacement. If the tip or body is lost, replaced frequently, or discarded prematurely, the environmental benefit quickly disappears.
Any promise of “smooth, dark pencil-like lines” with tools like this seems to be the weakest point amid other claims. Oxidative marking cannot produce the same optical density as graphite, whose layered platelets reflect light and allow for controlled value building. Even under firm pressure, metalpoint-style tips yield only a narrow, pale tonal band. Artists trained in tonal development, such as those in our own curriculum, would likely find the range far too limited for many of their practices.
In terms of ergonomics, there’s also the issue of weight. The Everpen, like many aluminum-bodied tools, is often heavier—commonly about two to three times the mass of a standard wooden pencil for aluminum-bodied versions, though some metal-bodied tools can be much more. Some users may appreciate the heft as a luxury feature, but others will find it can contribute to greater fatigue over longer sessions. Artists, in particular, may find it difficult to battle the light touch needed for certain types of line control or mark-making (however, this latter consideration may be compensated for by the narrow tonal range).
For note-taking, the Everpen and its ilk may be advantageously serviceable as they write, they likely don’t smudge, and they can look really sleek. For other types of drawing tasks that rely on increased variable feedback, they can indeed fall short of the expectations built from the marketing language. As such, while tools like the Everpen can truly be super useful in some contexts, graphite and charcoal will still remain superior in others.
Finally, I would like to mention that the language on the Everpen site raised a few red flags for me (aside from the Bitdefender warnings). The product description conflates two fundamentally different marking mechanisms —metal oxidation and graphite abrasion —while also employing inconsistent technical terminology. At various points, the tip is described as a graphene-based” a “non-graphite” metal, and an “erasable graphite tip.” To the best of my knowledge, these claims are chemically and mechanically incompatible. (For example, graphene is a single-layer form of graphite; a tip cannot be both “graphene-based” and “non-graphite.” Additionally, graphite is erasable because it deposits loose particles, while metalpoint marks are formed through oxidation and are usually resistant to erasure. On some grounds, they can be lifted only by surface abrasion, not erased, as is found with a traditional graphite pencil.
So, in short, the Everpen (and similar tools) is likely based on real, but established, technology. It draws from legitimate materials science—not magic—and can be super useful in some contexts. However, it may offer much less to artists who rely on a broad tonal range and more responsive mark-making. The chief ‘innovation’ here seems more rhetorical than anything else—framing a durable metalpoint mechanism as a graphene-enabled breakthrough. The technology works, but it isn’t all that new, and it isn’t as transformative as the branding may suggest.
If you try one, simple tests will tell you what you have. See whether an eraser removes the mark, compare its darkness to an HB pencil, and test it on coated paper. A metalpoint will make a faint, permanent gray line; a graphite-alloy will erase and wear slowly. Either way, the Everpen works, but probably not in the way you might expect from the marketing literature. Regardless, let us know if you try one and what you think!
Happy Drawing!