I don't want to publish
I hate to etch into eternity the impression of a man who did less than best
I don't want to write.
In fact, I think I hate writing and I don't know why.
Well, I do know why. I hate writing because I'm afraid to be known. But I know what you would say already -- well, before we get there I should clarify because I've realized: I don't hate writing at all; I write to myself often. It's publishing I hate.
And I know what you would say: publishing is a powerful tool -- the written word is the only way to reach distant minds with your sharpened thoughts. You would say that as much as I know my values to be true, as much as I can accomplish with my convictions and character, I can accomplish so much more if only I would distribute those convictions in publication.
And while I know this to be true, I still hate to publish.
Maybe it is a fear of being known. Oh, how I long to be illegible but powerful -- to be underestimated. Really, I want control of my narrative. I fear being misunderstood and losing a potential ally to the nebulous interpretation of my words, or even worse, to my own mistaken communication. Of course, you would argue that the only effective way to control my narrative is to write it. You'd say that the only way to avoid misinterpretation is to master communication, to write until my pen is the scalpel that will incise reality.
And while I know this to be true, I still hate to publish.
For it's not just a fear of being known, but a fear of being wrong, fake, or bad. I hate to etch into eternity the impression of a man who did less than best. After all, on which topics can I profess to be best, except those of my soul? And of those topics, my fear of inadequate expression is the greatest. I fear that for anything which I might write, someone out there has written it better and I should merely read what they have to say. Of course, you would appeal to my sense of virtue, arguing that it's not possible to learn what is right unless I risk being wrong. "Schreiben ist Denken", you would say, implying that the very act of publishing is an act of epistemic development without which great thoughts could not exist, leading to the inevitable conclusion that to avoid publishing is to run toward the very inadequacy I aim to avoid, like Oedipus running from fate. Finally, you would suggest that so little has been written, in the big scheme of things, and there is likely no one else who can influence those things which are uniquely mine.
And while I know this to be true, I still hate to publish.
> I fear that for anything which I might write, someone out there has written it better and I should merely read what they have to say.
Relatable. But the idea of "written it better" falls apart under closer examination. Better how, for what purpose? This framing assumes people read to learn only about the topic at hand. Assuming this frame for a second, "better" still doesn't make much sense, as everyone comes in with different prior models of the things discussed, different starting points. Some are already excited about the subject and can withstand winding technical posts while others need someone to show them why it is of any interest at all. Some have background in arts and literature and some in math: of course they would understand and relate to the same explanation differently. Writing an essay on a topic lets you explain it, yes, but I'd put it as it lets you present a framing for the topic. You are free to choose the frame you want, and readers who relate to that frame will enjoy the essay.
So what people are really looking for is a relatable or interesting frame. But note that the frame might be interesting by itself, or interesting because it is _your_ frame, even without regard to the actual topic. That's where the idea of reading purely for learning about the thing falls apart. Reading essays by the same author lets you see their frames and get a glimpse of the world through them and maybe adjust your frames. And it brings you closer to the author, lets you (think you) know them better. Sometimes that's all the reader wants.
Nobody can capture a topic through your frame better than you, and that's what matters.
(This comment is largely inspired by the book “How to Talk About Books You Haven't Read”, I highly recommend it)