As should be apparent by now, I have pretty much given up on the idea of being a “blogger”. I suppose you can call this blogging, but that’s only for lack of a better word. I am not an influencer, or a social media personality, or whatever the term du jour is. Yet, having occupied this space on the periphery of the blogosphere for over a decade (BCRL was not my first go at this particular rodeo), I feel like I am in this peculiar position of being neither/or – not really an insider, but not totally an outsider either. I find it fascinating, from my perch, to observe how blogging is evolving. The current buzzword is authenticity. Readers crave it. Businesses looking after their next marketing push want it. And bloggers are stuck in the middle, spinning their wheels.

I may be exaggerating.

Nevertheless, it is a challenging time to a blogger. There are lots of money to be made, sure – if you’re in the right demographic, with the right resources to get your foot in the door – but it’s also a tough business. Audiences expect a lot, often contradictory things. For example, you cannot get traction as a blogger unless you present an immaculate, careful curated image, but too much curation yields accusations of inauthenticity. The whole premise of blogging-as-a-marketing-business is founded upon aspiration; aspiration and authenticity are not natural bedfellows.

Have you ever read the IG comments of prominent bloggers? It is a very interesting experience.

What has stood out to me the most is the fact that any time a blogger presents content that betrays some less-than-generically-aspirational detail, they get a slew of negative comments. Some of those comments can be downright virulent. As a business trying to attract sponsors, this is not a good strategy. So I completely understand why bloggers retreat behind the blandest façade possible, trying to minimize blowback.

There is, I think, a correlation in many people’s minds between authenticity and relatability. Show me your messy room so I can feel reassured that, at some level, you and I have something in common. Which is fine, but do you expect Goop to be relatable? Do you expect Walmart to be authentic? When you are looking at a successful blogger you are seeing a business managing a million-dollar brand – themselves. (And, before you mention it, lower tier full-time bloggers are no different, even if their income bracket is. Successful blogging, in this day and age, takes a pretty specific path, and anyone who seriously aspires to that success knows it and will strive to pursue it.) Unless a blogger made his or her brand based on “I’m just like you” realness – which is extremely rare – accommodating an audience’s desire for authenticity can be a minefield. Socio-economic class issues alone would torpedo a good many number of well-intentioned bloggers.

I think businesses are getting savvy to these issues. Sure, some are only just now discovering social media, and their blanket sponsorships still end up splashed over questionable blog posts (fashion bloggers talking about their favourite, say, toilet paper – apologies to anyone who has written something like that recently). Others are starting to realize that the ROI very much depends on whether there is an alignment of brands between blogger and product. If a product is being marketed based on its aspirational value, it makes sense to hook up with a blogger who can add to the cachet (and vice versa). If a product is being marketed based on authenticity, a different strategy may be called for. To take a personal example: I never take beauty product recommendations from (monetized) bloggers; but I will try the s**t out of any (inexpensive) products recommended by other commenters on my favourite forums. Someday soon, companies will figure out a way to tap into these networks of small-i influencers and a whole new field of marketing will explode.

Authenticity in social media is hard for anyone, famous or not. You only have to look at something like Refinery29’s Money Diaries to see that. People absolutely tear apart the anonymous diarists over the dumbest s**t. (Honestly, there are days when I feel like the internet is basically the Judgment Olympics – a competition to see who can be the most righteous and judgy.) So whether you are a blogger or a nobody (and especially a non-anonymous nobody), there is very little incentive for laying out your entire life to strangers on the internet.

Which is too bad, because I love reading about the minutiae of other people’s lives.

This brings me to my obligatory expression of regret over the days of old. Indulge me, won’t you.

I grew up in a different, gentler era when people could post all kinds of navel-gazing, earnest crap online without fear of being engulfed by an avalanche of criticism, ridicule, or (much) worse. Ah, we were all much more innocent back then. Having grown up with a now bygone style of blogging, I still seek it out wherever I can. It survives in a few places (smaller blogs, mostly) and I cherish it now in a way I never did before. I’ve been guilty in the past of ragging on bloggers for what were, in retrospect, pretty minor infractions of what I considered “blogging etiquette”. I wouldn’t do that now because I have very little interest in running people off the internet anymore – whether I agree with them or not. I am obviously not speaking about people who espouse racist, sexist, or homophobic views; yet given how prevalent those remain, I find it increasingly easy to let other “differences of opinion” slide. Mommy wars? IDGAF how you raise your child, as long as they are loved, cared for, and (ideally) encouraged to become a productive member of society. Style advice? Hard pass – you do you, and I’ll do me, thanks. The same goes for any other aspect of daily life that lends itself to judgments that have nothing to do with ethics and everything to do with personal preference. I love reading about other people’s choices in these matters; I’m just not interested in debating those choices – theirs or mine. Unfortunately, most days I feel like I’m in the (silent) minority.

I am not sure that this post has a point … except perhaps to say: my, what a tangled web we’ve woven. People like to aspire, but they also enjoy having the opportunity to feel superior. They like pretty things, but they don’t want to be “sold to”. They want to genuinely connect, but they also just want their own value judgments mirrored at them. Bloggers trying to be all things to all people will inevitably fail, and will get mocked for trying. What’s the answer? I have no idea, man.