I was glad to see the revision of the first part of your comment– I was going to list some great writers who are/were significantly cynical (at least at times). But I really think that comments like that– and like some others here– are omitting the context of the full article and the specific example he cites.

Kirsch generalizes some, but mostly he is reasoning from example and I think that his reasoning is mostly sound, just not for the reasons he intends. Can we do the job as well and provide examples for our objections? The entire upper-tier of authors, in my estimation, doesn’t blog or even participate in lightweight social networks to any degree. Why is that? Who are the great authors that contradict that trend?

I was also bothered by “People who are reconciled to the injustice of this world console themselves by dreaming of another” and “People who are not reconciled to the injustice of this world, but also don’t believe in the justice of the next, take refuge in the imagination of redemption, which is always hypothetical and probably useless.” Huh? Are these the only two paths? What about people who aren’t reconciled to injustice but decide to do something about it, even – God forbid – by writing?

It’s funny that you disagree, but Kirsch is making at least one point that is the same as yours: there are trade-offs in seeking immediate exposure. You focus on the good, Kirsch focuses on the not so good… Conversation is ephemeral. Traditionally, “writers” have in some way been seeking the immortal. That’s the apples and oranges of speech and writing. But somewhere in between we have blogs, perhaps eternal in some way, but not immortal, mostly filled with speech made solid rather than writing with intent. Not that they have to be, but so they are. Including this one for the most part!

That’s why I think Kirsch might just actually be so wrong that he’s at least partly right, at least for a certain kind of writing– the artistic kind, I’ll call it– and he doesn’t make claims about anything else.

I think a lot of those things form the base of why we write. And then on top of that there is this idea of doing something timeless, that exists in the platonic realm, untouched by time.

I don’t agree with much in the analysis you quote. I think the timebound conversational nature is the more interesting thing about lit on blogs. Lit on blogs trades in a little of the timelessness for a bit of immediacy. It brings speech into a very contextualized realm.

I think about the “why do we write” question all the time, and not just in the context of traditional creative writing. I think about it all the time because I can’t help but believe that the radically changing context of the last 30 years has an effect on– and creates new opportunities to expand on or change– the reasons I, at least, write. But I agree, obviously, that there’s no single reason and that Hyde is certainly closer to the mark than Kirsch.

But wearing me “we control the technology” hat and my “try to assist in getting at the real riches of participatory medi” sandwich board, I think Kirsch is– in his own, outsider-ish way– working at some real quirks as things are situated right now. Particularly when examining the example (and cautionary tale) of Gessen.

But, as usual, your observations and criticisms are astute and thoughtful here, from pointing out Shirky’s influential work to “quibbling” with Kirsch’s claims about bloggers.

I for one rarely bother with the question “why do we write”. I know why I write, and it’s no single, solitary, or monoidolithic reason. This is a conversation better suited for, well, conversation, but I will say my justification is more akin to Hyde’s observations than to Kirsch’s assumptions.