Don't Ask Your Audience
Asking your audience what they want leads to content built on lies people tell themselves. Instead of polls and socially desirable responses, observe what actually engages people and write what matters to you.
Blogging Outside Format. Manifesto, post #4/14
"Hey everyone, what would you like to read about?" Classic channel post. Poll with options. Two hundred votes. Result: everyone wants "useful professional content for skill development and broadening horizons." The author starts writing more of that. Readership drops.
Because people always say they come to social media for useful stuff. Then they scroll memes for an hour. Everyone except you, obviously. You only consume valuable content. Everyone else just zones out.
This is called socially desirable responding. People don't answer what they actually want — they answer what they'd like to believe about themselves. And you build your whole content strategy on the lies people tell themselves.
I've never asked my audience anything. Not once. I understand what landed by watching simple things: views, gut feeling, actual responses. Not polls.
Observe. Don't ask.
Watching what people like, share, and comment on — yes, that's worth doing. It's a signal. It tells you what kind of people are gathering around your work. Are they the right people? Do you want a relationship with them, or with someone else entirely?
But asking them directly what they need — no. They don't know off the top of their head. They can't give you a honest spontaneous answer. And you, as the author, become the one being led. Including in your readers' eyes.
Think about how the feeling of an author changes when they broadcast to readers that they don't know what to write about. You followed this person because they had a point of view. Then they show up and ask: "So what are you interested in?" That's like a doctor asking the patient: "What should I prescribe you?"
The metrics trap
This is a real problem. You start watching the numbers, adjusting for the audience — and somewhere along the way you lose yourself. The blog becomes a burden. And in 90% of cases, you lose the blog entirely.
If you're not wired for chasing hype and crossing your own lines from the start — it's a dead end. Knowing who you are matters. Both paths are valid. Making money is fine. I like money too. Money is freedom. That's obvious. But if you're chasing metrics, you're a slave to metrics and reader opinion. With a pile of money, if you're lucky.
Medium is a good example. When the platform started paying authors for engagement, everyone started writing polarizing clickbait. Cheap, provocative little pieces instead of anything thoughtful. Because the algorithm pays for clicks, not depth. Writers who started with honest essays turned into gum factories. The "write what gets liked" model kills the author.
The feedback loop
Popular gets more traffic. That's the loop: write something viral → algorithm boosts it → write something more viral → algorithm boosts it more. Eventually you're not writing what you think. You're writing what the machine wants to hear.
Broad content brings more traffic but a weak community. Narrow content brings less reach but people who actually give a damn. Your call. But if you choose broad — you're no longer an author. You're the content manager of your own feed.
A simple rule
Watch your readers' real interests — yes. Ask them — no. Be a slave to metrics — only if you're ready for what that costs.
Write about what burns. The people who care will find you. There won't be many of them. But they'll be real.
