The Blog Is Dead, Long Live The Blog

Back in June I completely missed the 20th anniversary of this little plot of internet.  I knew that it was happening, but we were in the middle of so much real life (a musical that MrsDarwin was putting on, various family events and tribulations) that I completely failed to post about it.

It's one of those odd aspects of modern life that any member of the public who happens to be interested can look back and see what 26-year-old me had to say -- someone who had not yet settled on the field (pricing) which has become my career for the last eighteen years, someone who had then only two children rather than the seven we have now.

And then, over the course of several thousand posts over 20 years, you can see all the things which I chose to write publicly from that day to this.  Blogging has a clear living in public aspect to it.

At the time, I think I had half an idea of the blog eventually leading to some sort of larger career as a writer.  Lots of people did make that transition over the intervening years.  But although I've had a novel published and become a contributor of data journalism to PillarCatholic.com, overall I think one must say that I've not been successful as a blogger, in the sense that my work has not consistently led to larger audiences and wider opportunities for publication.

And in recent years, we've come to write a lot less.  Some of this is because other areas of life have become increasingly busy.  When we started writing, we had a couple of toddlers, and while children that age require supervision and diaper changes, you don't have to spend much time helping them plan for college, make their budgets, or apply for car loans.  And we ourselves were personally involved in far less back then: community theater, boy scouts, choir, community chorus, youth groups, finance council, liturgy committee, various classes and clubs.  I hardly know what all we do these days.

When you're a parent in your mid-twenties, you have a lot of spare time for an activity you can do while not leaving the house.  In your mid-forties -- less so.

But in many ways I'm glad that we did not end up becoming successful bloggers. In an online world dominated by algorithms, in which anger often drives engagement (whether it's stirring it up against others or bringing it down on oneself) there are very strong incentives drawing people to the low road. There are people who have written for many years whom I continue to admire, but it's a narrow road.  If you're trying to make a living, there's all the more incentive to do what the masses want.

So while I would like to try to write more than I have in recent months and years, I am honestly grateful for how unsuccessful this blog is.  There's something freeing about knowing that so few people care what we say, and that we make no money from it.  It means there's less guilt when we go silent for protracted periods.  And it means I don't need to provide the needed take or worry about whether it will drive the needed traffic.

Indeed, one of the reasons I write so much less now than I did in the past is not just lack of time, but that over the years I've built up more and more ties with various people who might be hurt by various topics or think that I was writing pointedly about them.  And even the "this is what it's like raising a family" kind of writing become a very different matter when you're dealing with teens and adults who have a legitimate desire not to have their affairs talked about.

I have a lot I think about in regards to what it's like to try to raise and support adult children as they take their early steps into the world, but whereas I don't think there's a particular privacy to "here's what we're reading to the three year old" or "this is how bedtime is going" I very much think that people have a legitimate expectation not to have their educational or relationship or career struggles written about without their consent.

Still, there's a glorious freedom in writing for a mostly unread blog.  As we move on through our third decade, I will endeavor to do so more often