Why I blog

Every now and again, I need to remind myself why I do this and why it matters, especially when I have been gone a while, for there's always trepidation in returning. This is not the first time I have talked about this, and it certainly won't be the last. As Kevin Munger observed, "blogging is an exercise in saying the same thing over and over again." Some activities require constant re-affirmation. So here's why having this space is important for me.

Why keep this blog?

Foremost, I write for myself. I want to learn and improve my understanding. I need to make sense of the jumble of ideas bombarding me on a daily basis.

Keeping a blog is a way to track the evolution of my thinking. Each post is a like a photograph, freezing motion into something static, acting as a marker on what my current thinking is on a particular subject.

It's also about self-expression and cleaving a space that is not driven by commercial imperatives.

I want to write as frequently as I can manage, and the only way to do that is to keep at it, without waiting for inspiration to strike. Having a blog helps me do that.

My biggest impediment is time scarcity. I would like to show up here more frequently, however, with work and other life obligations, it can be difficult to find the time. Whatever frequency I can manage, is the right amount.

Why in public?

In a word, rigour. Publishing forces me to clarify what I think and to research the subjects I write about.

I have notes galore and other writing that I've barely looked at since I created them. Without the public element, I might not find the discipline to make my tangle of notes tidy and readable. Having a blog helps me organize and engage with my work and makes it easier to return to, much more than I do to my inert notes in storage. A blog is a live reference I can consult over time.

A blog post is also easier to share. In conversation, there are times when I can't find the right words to fully express my thoughts. Speaking extemporaneously is for me, not as fluent or effective as sharing a written explanation that one can read at leisure with a pen or highlighter in hand. As Rebecca Solnit puts it "spoken and written are two different languages with their own grammar and their own difficulties and invitations." It's also not the etiquette to monopolise the conversation with a disquisition on a niche subject. However, if I've written something about it, I can easily pass that on, and leave it to them to engage with the material, or not, as they see fit.

The challenge here is fear of exposure. It feels vulnerable and denuding to put my thoughts in public. With a fervent cancel culture that doesn't allow for nuance, the risks can be all too real.

I sometimes cringe reviewing previous work, but that's not the attitude to assume. Instead of being embarrassed about how turgid, staid or muddled my previous work is, it's better to learn from the experience. It's ok to have got it wrong or to make mistakes. How else can one grow and learn, not just in words, but also in thoughts and actions? The point of having this space is to develop. Sitting in the discomfort of imperfection is part of the process.

Why do it here, instead of other platforms?

I need to create and manage a website. A space that is my own, built with my bare hands, that is under my full control. Although I work in the world wide interwebs, there are many constraints on what I can do. Some of the tasks can be very repetitive or overly complicated. It is good to have a space that takes you back to the basics of the web and where I have the freedom to do as I please.

As I've built the site myself and only the necessary code is available, it makes my site lightweight and lightning fast.

Building a site by hand using nothing but HTML, CSS and JavaScript can be laborius at times. But I still prefer it to using content management systems, which have a tendency to frustrate and disempower. In his book, The Right to Repair, Aaron Perzanowski observed that, "It empowers us to exert control over technology... When we can’t understand or control our devices, we cede authority to external forces." So it is with websites. As Gerry McGovern points out, "Big Tech’s great, strategic vision is to create a world of enfeebled yet functioning addicts, people who can’t think without technology, who can’t do anything for themselves without technology. Who don’t own their technology. Who can’t repair their technology. Who are owned by Big Tech." Having a self-built site feels like a small stand against that.

Building your own site is one of the best ways I know of, to extricate oneself from the grabby clutches of Big Tech. Though, humble, I'm proud of my little site, because I created it, and I continue to do so every time I work on it.

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