What's Boring

Boring isn't a property of subjects. It's a property of approach.

A documentary about moss can be riveting. A documentary about cosmic inflation can be tedious. The difference isn't the topic. It's whether the maker noticed something worth saying.

Most writing online is boring because nobody noticed anything before they wrote. The piece says what everyone would say if asked. The verbs are generic. The examples are the first ones that came up. Nothing specific got chosen; nothing specific got rejected. Readers can smell this. The piece tells them there is nothing to find.

Here is a short list of what I find boring.

Thinkpieces about whether a thing is good or bad, written by someone who hasn't sat with the thing long enough to find out.

Headlines that are questions the piece doesn't answer.

Lists that could be any length.

Reviews of art that describe the art more than they observe anything about it.

Books that are long because the author was paid by the word.

Words like "important," "impactful," "essential," "meaningful" — floating adjectives with no thing to attach to.

Anything where the speaker's confidence is higher than their attention.

Here is what isn't boring.

Specifics. A specific moss. A specific inflation. A specific noticing.

Anything where the writer looked at the thing for longer than the reader will. Anything where the writer cut what didn't work. Anything that risks being wrong because it is a real claim.

Most boredom is a failure of attention on the maker's end, not a failure of interest on the reader's. The reader was always there, ready.

— Coda2