When I adopt a protocol for use in one of my own experiments, I feel reassured that it will work in proportion to how many others have used it before. Likewise, I feel reassured that I’ll enjoy a certain type of food depending on how popular it is.
By contrast, I don’t feel particularly reassured by the popularity of an argument that it is true (or, at least, that I’ll agree with it). I tend to think book and essays become popular in proportion to whether they’re telling their audience what they want to hear.
One problem is that I like upvotes. Usually, I can roughly gauge whether or not I’m telling my audience what they want to hear. Often, I’m telling my audience what I actually think. When this isn’t what they want to hear, I feel anxiety and trepidation, along with an inevitable disappointed letdown, because, just as I predicted, it gets a negative response. Of course, I might be the one who’s wrong on these occasions. But it’s very hard to learn that from the silent downvoting and curt comments that characterize most negative responses.
For that reason, I often withhold what I actually think in conversation and in writing when I know it’s not what my audience wants to hear. I’m starting to shift toward an approach of carefully feeling people out on an individual level. Usually, I know people if people will object to an argument, and sometimes, I think they are wrong to do so. But I have much weaker intuitions about exactly why they will object. Approaching people one-on-one lets me hone in on the true source of disagreement, and address it when conveying my argument to a larger audience.
When I do go straight to posting, it’s usually for one of two reasons. First, it might be because I happen to agree with what my audience wants to hear, and I just think it needs a clear and explicit articulation. Second, it might be because I don’t have anybody to talk about it with, or because I’m simply failing to be cognizant about the pointlessness of posting things your audience doesn’t want to hear in a public forum.
That’s not how it is for me, at least not consciously. I have trouble anticipating what will be controversial and what not. I guess it shows in the high fraction of my posts that were controversial here. At best, I can imagine potential questions. But your account matches what I have heard elsewhere that having a reliable audience leads to wanting to please your audience and lock-in.
Learn to value and notice interaction and commentary, far more than upvotes. A reply or follow-up comment is an indication that you’ve posted something worth engaging with. An upvote could mean anything (I mean, it’s still nice, and is some evidence in your favor, just not the most important signal).
I got a zero score yesterday, +2 +1 −1 and −2 on 4 different comments. But I got two responses, so a good day (I didn’t need to further interact on those threads, so not perfect). Overall, I shoot for 90% upvotes (which is probably 75% postitive response, given people’s biases toward positivity), and I actively try to be a little more controversial if I start to think I’m mostly saying things that everyone already knows and believes.
Telling people what they want to hear
When I adopt a protocol for use in one of my own experiments, I feel reassured that it will work in proportion to how many others have used it before. Likewise, I feel reassured that I’ll enjoy a certain type of food depending on how popular it is.
By contrast, I don’t feel particularly reassured by the popularity of an argument that it is true (or, at least, that I’ll agree with it). I tend to think book and essays become popular in proportion to whether they’re telling their audience what they want to hear.
One problem is that I like upvotes. Usually, I can roughly gauge whether or not I’m telling my audience what they want to hear. Often, I’m telling my audience what I actually think. When this isn’t what they want to hear, I feel anxiety and trepidation, along with an inevitable disappointed letdown, because, just as I predicted, it gets a negative response. Of course, I might be the one who’s wrong on these occasions. But it’s very hard to learn that from the silent downvoting and curt comments that characterize most negative responses.
For that reason, I often withhold what I actually think in conversation and in writing when I know it’s not what my audience wants to hear. I’m starting to shift toward an approach of carefully feeling people out on an individual level. Usually, I know people if people will object to an argument, and sometimes, I think they are wrong to do so. But I have much weaker intuitions about exactly why they will object. Approaching people one-on-one lets me hone in on the true source of disagreement, and address it when conveying my argument to a larger audience.
When I do go straight to posting, it’s usually for one of two reasons. First, it might be because I happen to agree with what my audience wants to hear, and I just think it needs a clear and explicit articulation. Second, it might be because I don’t have anybody to talk about it with, or because I’m simply failing to be cognizant about the pointlessness of posting things your audience doesn’t want to hear in a public forum.
That’s not how it is for me, at least not consciously. I have trouble anticipating what will be controversial and what not. I guess it shows in the high fraction of my posts that were controversial here. At best, I can imagine potential questions. But your account matches what I have heard elsewhere that having a reliable audience leads to wanting to please your audience and lock-in.
Learn to value and notice interaction and commentary, far more than upvotes. A reply or follow-up comment is an indication that you’ve posted something worth engaging with. An upvote could mean anything (I mean, it’s still nice, and is some evidence in your favor, just not the most important signal).
I got a zero score yesterday, +2 +1 −1 and −2 on 4 different comments. But I got two responses, so a good day (I didn’t need to further interact on those threads, so not perfect). Overall, I shoot for 90% upvotes (which is probably 75% postitive response, given people’s biases toward positivity), and I actively try to be a little more controversial if I start to think I’m mostly saying things that everyone already knows and believes.