The Algorithm's Silent Tax: Writing in digital chains
The system is lying to you
Algorithms make you choose between writing for passion and writing for engagement.
Your bills force you to choose to write for money.
You're left in a quandary about what to write and when to keep content and traffic flows cycling efficiently.
More work. More force. Less being.
The system doesn't want you to know you still have a choice.
When the numbers stop making sense
It's only when you start waking up from the extra work, the extra stuff you do day in and day out, that you realize something is wrong with how you've been performing compared to what was required not too long ago.
You acknowledge it, but you keep on. You have to.
Then you think about it a little more. You inspect the paperwork requirements, stats, dashboards, and analytics, as well as check the account balance and the subscriptions required to keep it all afloat.
You remember things weren't always this way.
Then you start questioning.
Trading your voice for views
You see what you wanted, what you were originally striving for, what you envisioned.
Social media and streaming programs show you that the life you're endeavoring for is real.
You're a good writer. You deserve that life, too.
Suddenly, you realize how much you're scrambling and how much you're doing. As a writer, you're pumping out 3-5 times the content you previously had, and somehow, you're proud of that work.
But you also realize how tired you are. You don't have time to think, to decompress, or to let your mind wander.
Your kids still need you, your boss is still cracking a whip they don't actually own, and you're seeing things for what they are now.
It's all about the content calendar and repurposing all the content for each of your social media channels.
You look back at your checking account. Its balance hasn't changed.
The great creative compromise
Resentment builds.
It feels like, more than ever, we are forced to choose between:
Working in a trade or industry we want and performing work we hate
Getting decent healthcare or paying the rent
Democrat and Republican family members
Extra "me" time and the obligations of home life
Writing what you want, what you need to say, and what the algorithms actually push
What I've never liked about this is being forced to choose.
Your voice was yours, and everyone knew it
Forty years ago, we could write what we wanted, and we did. We could research paying markets specifically for our type of writing.
Back then, you had to mail query letters to these places regularly to see if they would like to see something you wrote. If you sent a manuscript in (printed out on paper through the mail) without their request, it was called an "unsolicited manuscript." Sending one was frowned upon by many.
The process was much slower than today, but we didn't have to choose what we wrote. By the time you were getting published, you had practiced enough to find your writer's voice. As a creative person and writer, you knew which kind of writing kept you in flow states.
Nobody could tell you "No.” During your writing sessions, you could enter these flow states almost on command.
It was delicious. Absolutely delicious.
You didn't have to choose.
Reclaim your words
We shouldn't have to choose today either.
Write and publish what you want.
It might reach one person and help them get unstuck in their thinking, processes, or workflow.
What you write could give a person a different perspective on a relationship's difficulty and how to solve it.
What you publish may enable the other person to grow in ways they hadn’t thought of or imagined for themselves.
Publish under a pen name if you must. Don't explain.
Write what needs to be said, but do your best to redeem the broken parts.
Don't leave us hanging in a dripping well, leading to an abysmal void. Show us how to climb out or why we can still hope we can.
Redeem your voice.
Reclaim your words.
Impose your work into the world.
It might make a difference for one person, and even if that one person is you, that's reason enough!