Why Bother Blogging?

Robert Smith is on the TV, his hair like a burst sofa. He’s howling about feeling down, while my shirt clings to my back like wet plaster. The Cure are headlining the Isle of Wight festival. I’m here, staring at a blank screen, trying to gather my thoughts. The guitar line from A Forest is bouncing off the walls. I need a drink, but at my age, if I have even one more, I’ll be up to pee every ninety minutes until morning.

I type a title: Why Bother Blogging? Then I stare at it. Nah, the cynical bastard in my head mutters. Delete it. Don’t write that. People have done it to death. Millions of digital ink-slingers have already dissected the ‘why’ behind their blogs.

Yeah, but I haven’t, the other half of me argues back. Seems reasonable to have a go. Does it? The cynic says, crossing its arms. Blogging isn’t new. It’s been around for bloody years. Most people worked out why they bother with it back when the internet was black and white. No need for you to add to the noise. The cursor blinks at me. Taunting me. A tiny, rhythmic vertical line saying: Go on then, granddad. Prove you’ve got a point.

So I force myself to type. I try to nail the exact reason. And you know what? It’s bloody hard to do. The first line I manage is so lame it makes my teeth itch: I like writing. Doh. Brilliant insight, that. Brilliant. Lots of people like writing. I delete it.

I aim to add depth to my writing. I want it to feel comfortable, not like I’m sitting on something sharp. A blog is great for that. But as I look at the words, a cold realisation hits me. I’m trying too hard. I’m thinking about how it fits, how it looks, how it compares to everything else out there. I’m treating my own page like a job interview.

It’s funny how staring at a blank blog post in 2026 feels exactly like a history lesson from seventeen years ago. Back then, it was WordPress or bust, and we did it because we had a fire in the belly. Now? There are loads of platforms—Ghost, Scribbles, Bear, Astro. It’s never been easier to publish.

But the soul of it got lost somewhere along the way. All the content-marketing bollocks rolled in. Everyone began chasing clicks and fixating on algorithms. They acted as if a spreadsheet full of traffic made them writers. Back then, SEO might as well have stood for “Shout Everything Out” for all we cared. Now, half the blogs you read seem as if a marketing robot with no personality wrote them.

look back at my title. I’m keeping it. Because nothing has actually changed. I blog now for the same reason I did seventeen years ago: I have something to say, and a blog is a good place to share it. Call it old-fashioned. Call it being a blogging rebel. But balls to SEO. Balls to content marketing. Write like a proper person, or don’t bloody bother. On the tele, The Cure are two hours into their set, continuing to perform in their own way. And so am I.