My New Approach to Social Networks
It might sound like a New Year's resolution, but it's not at all. It's the culmination of a rebellion I've been brewing for a while.
Last year, quietly and without fanfare, I (almost) abandoned Facebook, LinkedIn, Twitter, and the like. My problems with social networks were many:
- You don't choose/know who sees what, or when,
- No control over the site's appearance or layout,
- Everything can change overnight without warning,
- The content they push doesn't interest me,
- I hate ads,
- People end up producing content "for the algorithm",
- It enriches companies I don't admire,
- I'm tired of the reflex to check my phone.
Meanwhile, I'd created this blog.
My idea was simple: I would post here everything I posted elsewhere. On a site I manage, whose appearance I choose, that isn't controlled by a third party or an algorithm. And that doesn't enrich anyone (except my web host – and even then, not by much).
Of course, in doing so, I lost some advantages:
No more likes. No more shares. And, honestly: no more visitors.
This last point should have been a dealbreaker – after all, we publish to be read – but strangely, I kept going. For a year, I posted content on a blog that almost no one came to see.
Then something unexpected happened.
As the months went by, what I posted changed. My articles got longer, closer to what really matters to me. I started doing photography again, writing dialogue, publishing drawings, creating more.
I also began to improve the site – appearance, navigation, features – so that it quickly became a "home." A place where I feel good. That inspires me the way a studio inspires an artist.
But most importantly, despite the lack of visitors, each publication brought me more satisfaction. Oddly, I enjoyed creating for no one more than for the elusive, shapeless audience of social networks.
A year on, I'd say I've learned three things from this experience.
First, personally, I realized that the shelf where I put my pottery matters more than I thought. I need places to put what I make – even the little things – otherwise the creative process stalls upstream.
Second, you create for yourself first.
Rather than a clumsy explanation from me: I recently came across two videos of artists I admire who put it much better – and with more authority – than me:
"Never play for the gallery. Never work for other people."
David Bowie, in this video.
"The audience comes last. And I believe that. I don't do it for them; I do it for myself."
Legendary producer Rick Rubin, in this short.
(Not forgetting this video I've already mentioned: Create or Be Consumed.)
Finally, of course, you still have to share. Otherwise, it's just masturbation.
That's why I've recently started posting on social networks again. With one important difference: now, creating and sharing are separate.
Everything first goes on my shelf. Which imposes no rules, puts no pressure, plays no games. It's an engine that asks a single question: "Do I really like it?"
Only then do I put it in the window.