One of the things I love most about the personal web is that it’s possible to enjoy a certain amount of peace and quiet here. My domain is a tiny, remote island nestled somewhere in the middle of a vast ocean jam-packed with websites and social platforms. Visitors seldom drop anchor off my shores – and that is entirely by design.
I could submit my site to popular link aggregators. I could use hashtags to promote my site publicly on the Fediverse. I could optimize my site for search engines and chatbots. For my own wellbeing, I choose not to.
Don’t get me wrong: like most people who blog as a hobby, I write (at least in part) to be read. It feels good when I know that another person has enjoyed or learned from something I’ve written. It feels good when other bloggers I admire and respect share links to my site with their own readers. But speaking as someone who has experienced the ugly side of virality a couple of times in her life, I also know that too many eyes on my website is something I definitely do not want. The thought of it fills me with dread, in fact.
My writing, especially back when I had a larger social media presence, has occasionally and unintentionally ruffled the wrong sort of feathers – to the point where I once even feared for my own physical safety. Those experiences, though fortunately rare, turned me into the sort of blogger who now actively avoids developing a large following. That is not to say, of course, that small audiences protect us from the issues that can go in hand with larger audiences; it is, however, much easier to recognize and mitigate potential threats when you have less reach, in my experience.
One of the drawbacks of intentionally seeking out a smaller audience is that you may be less likely to have conversations with people who challenge your opinions.1 By making it harder for people to find your writing, you may also fail to connect with someone who could benefit from your insight. This is unfortunate, but for me at least, the pros of making small ripples far outweigh the cons of making large waves. I’m perfectly content writing for my husband, for fellow 32-Bit Cafe regulars, for my small Mastodon following, and … well, for me.
So here’s to the personal web for making me and others like me feel safe and inconspicuous enough to continue sharing our thoughts on an increasingly hostile, increasingly inhuman Internet. I completely understand why some people welcome the idea of the personal web becoming a closely-connected archipelago, but I hope that these folks can also see why some of us like (and even prefer) our peaceful, isolated islands.
Footnotes
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This could also be seen as a boon, of course, but I think that dealing with dissent is an important part of personal intellectual growth – so long as it’s a respectful conversation between both parties. ↩