Why I Need You to Be a Better Audience

This isn’t about me.  It’s about you.  (Well, actually, it’s about… us.)

See, how this works is, I write this blog and you read it.  We have our clearly-defined roles, and we each know what’s expected of us.  And normally this is a wonderful arrangement.

But lately, I need more.

And I’m not alone, either.  I’ve had conversations with some fellow bloggers who feel exactly the same way.  It’s just not something most people want to bring up because they don’t want to risk appearing ungrateful, or hypocritical, or to be thought of as “biting the hand that feeds (or reads) them.”  We who are fortunate enough to have anyone at all paying attention to what we have to say are loathe to suggest that we somehow deserve more than what you’re already giving us.

Except we do.  (And you deserve more too, but we’ll talk about your needs in a minute.)

First, here’s why this is happening, and what we (mostly you) can do about it.

The Two Types of Audience

In all creative endeavors, from landscaping to blogs, there are subtle differences between the two kinds of audiences any creation attracts.

On one hand, there’s the creator’s desired audience.  These are the people she wishes she was writing, painting, cooking or performing for.  She usually believes these people are smarter, wittier and better connected than she herself is, and she hopes that by amazing these distant strangers with her own talents, she’ll eventually become “one of them.”

On the other hand, there’s the creator’s actual audience.  These are the people who actually bother to process (and occasionally absorb) her work.  They usually believe she’s smarter, wittier or more talented than they themselves are, and they hope that by showering her with compliments, she’ll come to think of them as being “just like her.”

As you can see, we’re at cross-purposes here, and no one’s ever entirely pleased with this arrangement.

I Can’t Hear You Because You Only Speak in White Noise

Right now, three flaws can stop any blogger from fully embracing her existing audience:

• They leave too many “hey, great post” comments that don’t advance conversation
• They don’t know enough about the topic at hand to add impactful insights
• They don’t have the time to engage in salient conversation

Why do these things happen?  It’s the nature of the medium.  Blogs are often written in haste and read on the fly, which means we who write them are lucky if we ever write anything that makes sense, while you who read them are rarely moved sufficiently (and at a time when you can comment back coherently) to reward us with anything more than a quick pat on the back.

The knowledge gap (or perhaps more accurately, the awareness gap) between bloggers and their audiences is also a natural barrier to greater engagement.  If you already know what someone is writing about, you have no reason to read it, so you don’t.  If you don’t know what they’re talking about, you can’t improve upon the topic beyond asking additional questions in the hopes of further explanation.  So, by its very nature, most bloggers spend the majority of their time teaching (or expounding), and a limited amount of time learning and growing based on audience feedback.

And man, is that frustrating.

Because if I was only blogging so someone could tell me I was doing well, I would have stopped years ago.  Compliments are always appreciated, but they’re rarely actionable stimuli that I can learn from, or have my presumptions challenged over.  I blog because I’m in search of something more than a thumbs-up from people I’ve never met — and if you ask most other bloggers, in private, after a few drinks, they’ll admit they have these same motivations too.

What Makes Us Blog?

I can’t speak for everyone who’s ever pressed “publish,” but for me, I blog because:

• I want to be heard
• I’m frustrated and I want to vent
• I have knowledge that I think others would benefit from
• I have theories that I’d like to debate with others
• I have questions that someone else may know the answer to
• I’m egotistical
• I have the time

If you peel away the initial narcissism, you’ll see that I actually have functional goals for my blog.  Beyond its surface entertainment value, it’s intended as a two-way conduit for relevant conversations with people who have the knowledge I lack.  And if I don’t feel as though I’m obtaining that kind of discourse, I have to wonder what else I could be doing to elicit it.

Which is why we have to acknowledge your needs, too.

It’s Not Always About Me

See, I know you’re in a hurry.  I know you spend thirty seconds to skim the same post I take an hour to write.  I know you spend your days (or at least your free moments) in search of wit, escape, insight and enlightenment — just like me — and that I should consider myself fortunate just to be a stop on your trek for transcendence.

But here’s where it gets tricky.

Because if you don’t stop to comment, I have no idea if what I wrote mattered to you in any capacity.  And while you’re not obligated to leave meaningful feedback, the lack of such discourse is what makes it easy for me to blog less (or less skillfully) because we both end up taking each other for granted.  And that’s a recipe for erosion, which is the kind of behavior that renders our relationship as shallow and meaningless as the Luddites believe it is.

Trust me: “Hey, great post” is always nice to hear.  Thank you for taking the time to write at least that much.  I know neither of us has any rational reason to expect more than that from our daily rendezvous.

But that doesn’t mean a guy can’t dream…

So, Here’s What I’d Like From You, If You Don’t Mind Me Asking

If you like what you read here, let me know.  Say hey.  Say thanks.  Say “nice job.”  It’s always appreciated.

If you think someone else would enjoy it, pass it along.  Tweet it, retweet it, Facebook it, linkback to it.  Share it in whatever format is most convenient for you.  The more people read this blog, the better the odds are that someone will leave a comment that advances our entire discussion beyond any place you or I could take it by ourselves.

If you have time, let me know why you enjoyed or learned from what I have to say.  Likewise, if you disagree, tell me why.  I don’t know everything, and neither do you.  If we suss things out, at least one of us is likely to learn something, either about the subject, ourselves or the world at large.

By explaining your reactions to me, I can better understand the big picture, and knowledge is why I’m in this relationship.  (Trust me, it’s not for the sex.)

Am I Expecting Too Much?

Possibly.  But maybe that’s because I believe we can all do better.

I know we bloggers can and should spend more time writing posts that are worth discussing, and I know we readers (because I’m one too) can and should spend more time providing meaningful, conversation-furthering feedback to the authors we most value.

Because if we don’t, we’re stuck in an endless loop of partial attention, unmet needs, unfulfilled desires and uncritical thinking.  Neither of us gets what we really want, but we trick ourselves into thinking that we don’t deserve anything better.  We wouldn’t settle for that in any other relationship we choose to engage in, and we shouldn’t settle for it here.

Let’s not damn ourselves to a life of half-satisfaction, which does a disservice to both sides.

Let’s talk more.  And let’s talk about what matters.

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Tags: audience, Blogging, common sense, honesty, networking, perception, personal, Social Media, Sociology