Would you actually prefer that all the jesters left (except the last one)?
I believe you when you say that interacting with the jesters is annoying in the moment. I trust that you do indeed anticipate having to drudge through many misconceptions of your writing when your mouse hovers over “publish”. If you’ll indulge an extended metaphor: it seems as though you’re expressing displeasure at engaging in sorties to keep the farmland from burning even though it’s the fortress you actually care about. People would question the legitimacy of the fortress if the surrounding farmland were left to burn, after all, so you feel forced to fight on unfavorable terrain for lands you barely care about. Would you find posting more satisfying if no enemies showed up at all?
Suppose that the jesters’ comments, along with the discussion spawned from them, were deleted from existence, replaced by nothing. You never read them, any jester-ish thoughts are set aside after reading the post (although the person keeps their niggling thought that something is wrong with the post), and they cannot influence the culture of lesswrong as a whole. What does the comments section of your posts actually look like?
You leave unsaid that a meaty and genuine discussion would remain, but I expect that’s approximately what you implicitly envision. I’m not so sure that’s what would actually happen. Many of the fruitful discussions here are borne out of initially minor disagreements (Indeed, caring about burdensome details is a longstanding lesswrong tradition!). If you picked all the weeds, would a vibrant garden or a barren wasteland remain?
You are one of the most popular writers on lesswrong, so perhaps it is difficult for you to imagine, but if I wrote something substantial and effortful I would be more worried that it would be simply ignored; far more than I would worry about criticism that does not get to the heart of what I wrote.
You leave unsaid that a meaty and genuine discussion would remain, but I expect that’s approximately what you implicitly envision. I’m not so sure that’s what would actually happen. Many of the fruitful discussions here are borne out of initially minor disagreements (Indeed, caring about burdensome details is a longstanding lesswrong tradition!). If you picked all the weeds, would a vibrant garden or a barren wasteland remain?
You are one of the most popular writers on lesswrong, so perhaps it is difficult for you to imagine, but if I wrote something substantial and effortful I would be more worried that it would be simply ignored; far more than I would worry about criticism that does not get to the heart of what I wrote.
You’re pointing out that part of what makes criticism so frustrating for Duncan is that, as a popular writer, he gets so many nitpicks that it becomes overwhelming. A less-popular writer might welcome any attention at all, even brief and critical, as long as it wasn’t overtly hostile. Fear of posting and receiving no response might inhibit new writers finding their voice as much as the fear of overwhelming nitpickiness might inhibit more established writers.
It’s interesting to consider the dynamic this would create if it’s a pattern. Newer writers eventually find the confidence to post anyway. They get a bit of attention, probably fairly negative, because they’re new and figuring out how to express themselves. But they appreciate it and hopefully keep writing. If they get too successful, though, they get overwhelmed by the nitpicks, and eventually leave. This could also happen if they find they have less of a sustained capacity for dealing with 1-2 comments that are consistently negative and nitpicky if there’s little else that’s positive or more engaged.
This would tend to generate an evaporative cooling dynamic for writers, of the kind Duncan describes.
I increasingly think that established writers who are bothered by negative comments should use the tools at their disposal to insulate themselves—returning the burden onto the nitpicker, downvotes, or user-specific bans from commenting on their posts. That seems to mostly solve the problem of overwhelm that Duncan describes, provided he’s right that the problem is a gang of Socrati rather than a problem among the entire user base, without impacting the experience of anybody else, including the Socrati. After all, if the choice is between not posting or banning Socrati from commenting, the Socrati face the same set of options either way.
Would you actually prefer that all the jesters left (except the last one)?
I believe you when you say that interacting with the jesters is annoying in the moment. I trust that you do indeed anticipate having to drudge through many misconceptions of your writing when your mouse hovers over “publish”. If you’ll indulge an extended metaphor: it seems as though you’re expressing displeasure at engaging in sorties to keep the farmland from burning even though it’s the fortress you actually care about. People would question the legitimacy of the fortress if the surrounding farmland were left to burn, after all, so you feel forced to fight on unfavorable terrain for lands you barely care about. Would you find posting more satisfying if no enemies showed up at all?
Suppose that the jesters’ comments, along with the discussion spawned from them, were deleted from existence, replaced by nothing. You never read them, any jester-ish thoughts are set aside after reading the post (although the person keeps their niggling thought that something is wrong with the post), and they cannot influence the culture of lesswrong as a whole. What does the comments section of your posts actually look like?
You leave unsaid that a meaty and genuine discussion would remain, but I expect that’s approximately what you implicitly envision. I’m not so sure that’s what would actually happen. Many of the fruitful discussions here are borne out of initially minor disagreements (Indeed, caring about burdensome details is a longstanding lesswrong tradition!). If you picked all the weeds, would a vibrant garden or a barren wasteland remain?
You are one of the most popular writers on lesswrong, so perhaps it is difficult for you to imagine, but if I wrote something substantial and effortful I would be more worried that it would be simply ignored; far more than I would worry about criticism that does not get to the heart of what I wrote.
You’re pointing out that part of what makes criticism so frustrating for Duncan is that, as a popular writer, he gets so many nitpicks that it becomes overwhelming. A less-popular writer might welcome any attention at all, even brief and critical, as long as it wasn’t overtly hostile. Fear of posting and receiving no response might inhibit new writers finding their voice as much as the fear of overwhelming nitpickiness might inhibit more established writers.
It’s interesting to consider the dynamic this would create if it’s a pattern. Newer writers eventually find the confidence to post anyway. They get a bit of attention, probably fairly negative, because they’re new and figuring out how to express themselves. But they appreciate it and hopefully keep writing. If they get too successful, though, they get overwhelmed by the nitpicks, and eventually leave. This could also happen if they find they have less of a sustained capacity for dealing with 1-2 comments that are consistently negative and nitpicky if there’s little else that’s positive or more engaged.
This would tend to generate an evaporative cooling dynamic for writers, of the kind Duncan describes.
I increasingly think that established writers who are bothered by negative comments should use the tools at their disposal to insulate themselves—returning the burden onto the nitpicker, downvotes, or user-specific bans from commenting on their posts. That seems to mostly solve the problem of overwhelm that Duncan describes, provided he’s right that the problem is a gang of Socrati rather than a problem among the entire user base, without impacting the experience of anybody else, including the Socrati. After all, if the choice is between not posting or banning Socrati from commenting, the Socrati face the same set of options either way.
If the fame is the problem, why not post under a pseudonym?
It’s not fame that’s the problem—its the attention your post gets, whether you’re writing pseudonymously or not.