Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Why do you blog?

So a meme is circulating on the Scienceblogs -- "Why do you blog?"

Ed quotes Mencken and claims it's all ego.

Martin says about the same, quote, "There are two main reasons for me to blog. A, I love to write. And B, having readers makes me feel like a ten-foot diamond on a Christmas tree."

Courtnix replies with his typical 38 links per post, and thus demonstrates what he admits -- he's an addict.

Tara cites the ability to share things of interest with others who want to hear them.

My favorite response is from Corpus Callosum:
Then I started a more serious blog. The name "corpus callosum" was intended to reflect an interest in the brain, but also an interest in making connections (of various sorts), and --originally -- I thought I would sort of try to bridge the gap between left and right on the political spectrum.

That latter purpose got lost somewhere. There is no point in trying to use a blog to promote a moderate political stance. Not only that, but at present I do not believe that it is proper to promote a moderate political stance. A little bit of radicalism is needed right now. Maybe later I can get back to being a moderate, bridge-building kind of a guy. Once we have a government that is not primary run by sociopaths.
I think this is a really good point, not only on its surface -- in politics, but applied in general. People don't tend to read blogs that promote moderate stances, just as they don't tend to watch talk shows that do. That's why O'Reilly and H&C are continually dominant -- they don't even pretend to be moderate.

And perhaps that's why PZ is always uber-dominant at the SB: he's probably the most radical writer there, both politically and religiously. People want entertainment in the blogosphere just as much as they do on TV and in real life. PZ gets your pulse pounding a hell of a lot more than the average blog (like this one). He often has interactions with ideologues on the opposite side of the fence, and the slurs and rhetoric heat up.

I spelled out what has already been predicted and observed: the demise of the small blog genre. The powercurve problem continues unabated, and I think it is irresistable. My own efforts will never catch major attention, and as I said, that surely isn't why I write. Will I eventually get discouraged from lack of feedback or readership? I doubt it.

My blogsite gets around 100 hits a day, on average, (a little higher this week) and varies according to how much I post. That doesn't tell me how many people read my different RSS feeds, especially since I started the Facebook import. I know some people do, because the "came from" function tells me so, and I get sporadic comments on Facebook. Nonetheless, although I value feedback, it doesn't keep me writing. Do I write to be read?

I tried to stop writing here once, but it didn't work out -- I feel the urge to write like a sort of building pressure to move my bowels: fear of terrible consequences from holding out. Perhaps my writing doesn't matter much to you, gentle reader, and perhaps I don't care. I'm not sure how to peg that quite yet. Do I only write to inform? Persuade? Do I think that I actually accomplish either? Am I just rambling or ranting for my own sake?

You'd never guess how fruitless I admit blogging is, given the amount of time I spend on it, with respect to "inform and persuade" motives. But I do think it's fruitless to be motivated solely by those two things; I think we all know that we listen to people who think like we do and who we consider intelligent: deserving of our time. And we humans have this awful prejudice to paint people as unintelligent whom we disagree with drastically. People with views diametrically opposed to our own may get our ear once in a while, but only if they write great stuff, and still, not nearly so often to learn as to argue/refute what they have to say.

However, I do write for myself, certainly more than for anyone else, given the paucity of feedback I receive on this particular forum, and I think it's undeniable. I get a few comments once in a while, and sometimes I even do something that the "power bloggers" think is worth linking to (check my crème de la crème in the sidebar for examples). But those rare instances account for the majority of my traffic over a given three month period, and 90% of my comments or more. It'simportant to realize how much of your writing is for an "audience" and how much is for you -- for expression, catharsis, improving your writing skills...whatever. And it's important to be realistic about it.

I certainly agree that my wife takes priority over everything else, that staying healthy is tied with my Ph.D. in close second, that running the AAFSA group is a distant third, but should still take huge precedence over blogging...but I spend more time than I mean to with the latter--despite even knowing that the former categories are suffering.

It's in my best interests to get out in the real world and do something. When I started devoting more time to AAFSA, I got letters to the editor published in our campus paper and eventually a media spot on FoxNews: more attention than I would get blogging for 3 years, 3 posts a day of great material. And I've even gotten a little honor for my activist efforts. So if I was driven by an audience, I have picked the poorest medium as my highest priority. If you notice, people who run large groups and companies don't tend to waste a lot of time blogging, except where it advances the group or the company -- not fluffy opinion pieces and diary-esque daily introspection. And they get money--so it's not "success" per se, either.

And so all I can conclude is that although the value of this blog is highly subjective, it is highly valued nonetheless. No matter the toll it takes on my free time, it overcompensates in emotional or psychological reward. I don't believe in free will, and so I know that I always do what gives me the greatest happiness. Maybe I need some kind of echo chamber for my own thoughts, or, like Francis Bacon, perhaps I think reading makes broad men and writing makes them precise (i.e. forces them to be a little focused and logical), and so this blog helps me be and stay rational and think clearly. Or maybe I'm full of shit and I really just want an adoring flock of sycophants...

I'm not sure, but I am sure that writing is good for me, and that, despite my best efforts to curtail it, I can't. Not now. Maybe not ever.
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