The Courage to Hit Publish

I listened to Dwarkesh’s podcast with Scott Alexander and Daniel Kokotajlo expecting to learn more about AI timelines. And I did. But the part that stuck with me had nothing to do with intelligence explosions or month-by-month forecasts.

Toward the end, the conversation shifted to writing. Not writing as a way to build an audience or advance your career, but writing as a way to think. As a way to get out of your own head and make sense of what you believe.

That part hit me.

Over the last year, I’ve been trying to write more, partly to clarify my own thinking and partly to see what ideas stick. It wasn’t easy to get started. It’s still not. There’s a persistent voice in the back of your head that says: who cares? What do I have to say that hasn’t already been said better by someone else?

But what this conversation reminded me is that everyone really is an N of 1. We each have this strange mix of experiences, memories, people we’ve met, and mistakes we’ve made. We live inside our own perspective so completely that it’s hard to see what’s unique about it. But it’s there.

And that’s where courage comes in. Scott Alexander described it well in the podcast: “Everybody I talk to who blogs is like within 1% of not having enough courage of blogging.” That line stuck with me. The limiting factor often isn’t talent or ideas. It’s simply the courage to hit publish.

The act of writing forces you to go looking for that uniqueness. And once you start, you begin to see patterns you hadn’t noticed. Writing becomes a tool for inquiry, for asking better questions. It’s also a test: can you take the half-formed things in your head and shape them into something someone else can understand?

It’s not just hard because the ideas are fuzzy. It’s hard because it takes courage. Sharing what you think feels vulnerable. You don’t know how people will respond. And it’s easy to assume they won’t care at all. But I’ve found the opposite. Some of the most interesting conversations I’ve had this year came from posts I almost didn’t publish. A few opportunities too. Not because the writing was brilliant, but because it was honest – and it reflected my genuine interests, curiousity, and my true N of 1.

The podcast also touched on how surprisingly few people actually try. Alexander noted that despite the incentives and tools, the space for thoughtful writing still feels oddly sparse. He mentioned people who send him long, thoughtful emails in response to blog posts. Messages that could easily stand alone as great essays. But when he suggests they start a blog, they say, “Oh, I could never do that.” - Maybe you can?

That gap between what’s in your head and what you’re willing to share feels wider than it really is. But tools like ChatGPT can shrink it. You can start messy, uncertain, unsure. These tools won’t write for you, but they’ll meet you where you are. They’ll help you find the idea worth following.

So if writing has felt out of reach, maybe this is the moment to try. You don’t need a grand vision or a big audience. You just need a bit of curiosity and a little courage.

The world doesn’t need another expert. It needs your take. Your version. Your N of 1. That strange, specific mix of experience and perspective only you have.

Give it shape. That’s the only way to find out what’s really there.

If you need a push, go listen to the last 30 minutes of that podcast. It’s a reminder that writing starts not with certainty, but with the decision to begin.