This
post is obviously pertinent to bloggers, but I hope not just bloggers. There’s
a lot to be said too about social media, the online information age in general,
and about writing (diaries, opinion pieces, whatever).
The
question is: Is it worth writing something that no-one will ever read? If the
answer is “yes”, the next question is: Is it worth posting something online
that no-one will ever read? I'm saying “yes” to both questions.
The
first question is the easy one. It’s a piece of advice beloved of agony aunts,
therapists, motivational speakers, life coaches, and really anyone who
dispenses advice, that if something is really troubling you, you should write
about it, then destroy what you have written. If you are angry with someone,
write a letter telling them how you feel, then burn the letter. If you are
struggling with an issue from your past, write about it, then shred the paper.
The act of getting the badness out of your system, like pus from a wound, and
then throwing it away so that you can move on, is remarkably cleansing. It
might not work for everyone in every case, but it certainly can work, and that
makes it worth a shot.
So
it is worth writing something that no-one will ever read. Keepers of secret
diaries know this too. There’s worthwhile catharsis to be had. But in the age
of social media, when so much of the lives of so many of us are lived online,
what of the temptation to post your thoughts or your diary entry on a blog? Or
to put them on twitter or facebook, or a personal website? This seems less
widely acceptable. A lot of people do it, but I’d be willing to bet a lot of
people think it’s narcissistic and pointless. There’s probably some overlap
between those two lots of people.
I
think there’s something beneficial to the modern person in posting their thoughts
online, even if no-one reads them, and even if the writer knows that. Part of
who we are is expressive, and this expression doesn't need an audience, or at
least it shouldn't. That sounds pretentious, but I think it makes sense to most
people. Think about some similar examples: You might wear clothes
you like, even if no-one sees you wearing them. You might get a tattoo that’s
in a place where it’s always covered up. You might tidy your flat, even if
no-one’s coming round. You might sing a song you like, even if no-one’s
listening, and you’re not practising for a time when they are. All these things
are expressive of your personality or how you’re feeling, and doing them is as
much a part of you as the colour of your eyes, the way you stand, or what makes
you laugh.
Now
that so much of our lives has moved online, it’s not surprising that that
expressive dimension is to be found there too. It’s the perfect place for it, with
the internet’s instant communication, ready links to images, audio and video,
and the ability to edit and re-edit almost anything you want. It’s not
narcissistic to be who you are, and part of that is always going to be
expressive in some way. The online world, and social media and blogging in
particular, are the perfect venue for that expression, so it’s natural to find
it there. The act of expressing, even to an audience that only ever exists in
potential, is the act of being you.
A
final caveat though: If you don’t accept that expression online doesn't need an
audience, then for you, it probably won’t be true that it doesn't. If you
believe you need the attention of others on everything you do in order to validate
it, then you will continue to need that attention. The cathartic and expressive
benefits of blogging or similar are only available to those who do it for
themselves, not for the audience. If there is an audience, and you reach them
and inspire or comfort them, of course it’s ok to take pride in that. It’s also
ok to think about who you might be offending before you post. However, as soon
as you are a slave to your audience, and value your contribution to the world
only in terms of the number of people who see that contribution, or how loudly
or vehemently they comment on it, then you have lost the main benefit of
communicating it in the first place.
Of
course, all of this could be a desperate bid to console myself that if no-one
reads this, it hasn't been a waste of my evening typing it. You are completely
free to think that. But if you do, remember that a) you read this far, so it
hasn't been totally wasted on you; and b) I feel better for having written and
posted it, so I really don’t have to care what you think.
