The Work That Became a Performance
Building in public was meant to make solo work less lonely and more honest. Somewhere along the way it tilted: the work and the broadcast became the same activity, and one started shaping the other.
Summary: Building in public was meant to make solo work less lonely and more honest. Somewhere along the way it tilted. The work and the broadcast became the same activity, and one of them started shaping the other.
Pattern
A solo operator decides to share their work openly. They post about progress. They reason about their decisions in public. The audience grows. Over time the operator notices, sometimes consciously and sometimes not, that the broadcast has begun to influence the work. Decisions get made partly because they will read well. Avenues that would not generate good content quietly stop being explored.
What tends to happen
The first months are honest. The work is the work. The posting is reporting on the work. The audience is small enough that the feedback loop is slow and the operator’s attention is mostly on the work itself.
The audience grows. The posts that get attention turn out to follow patterns: visible progress, contrarian framing, a particular emotional register. The operator notices, because attention is hard to ignore.
Then a small drift. A project decision is influenced by what would post well. A boring problem that needs to be solved gets framed as a more interesting problem. The internal experience of working starts to split into “the work” and “the angle.” The angle was originally a description. It becomes a constraint.
Why it fails
The performance is not deliberate. It is structural. The audience selects for certain content, and the operator’s attention reorganizes around what the audience selects for. This happens whether or not the operator wants it to.
The original purpose — to make solo work less isolated, to think out loud, to document a journey — was sound. The drift happens because the broadcast now has its own gravity. The work and the broadcast were the same when the audience was small. Once the audience is large, they become two things competing for the same operator.
Human layer
The drift is subtle because it answers a real need. Solo work is lonely. Audience response provides feedback that the work is meaningful, which solo work otherwise often lacks. The operator is not vain. The operator is responding to a signal that the work matters.
But the signal does not measure what it appears to measure. It measures how the work plays as content. A boring breakthrough produces less response than a vivid struggle. An hour spent on the actually-hard problem may produce nothing postable. The signal is not about the work. It is about the work’s translation into performance.
System layer
Building-in-public infrastructure is optimized for legibility, not depth. Posts are short. Threads are linear. Engagement is measured by impressions, replies, follows. None of these instruments capture whether the work itself is going well. They capture whether the broadcast is well-received.
There is no such thing as a “this was a real workday” badge. There is also no friction against spending a workday producing content about workdays.
What it costs
The operator slowly redirects attention toward the parts of the work that broadcast well. Some of those are the same as the parts that matter. Many are not. The drift is small per-decision and large in aggregate.
The deeper cost is internal. The operator loses the ability to know whether they are working on a problem because it is the right problem or because it would post well. That clarity, once lost, takes deliberate effort to recover.
Reduction path
The first intervention is to separate the working and the broadcasting in time. Not in policy — in habit. A working session has no posting in it. A posting session reports on something already finished. This sounds trivial. It is the most reliable single change.
The second intervention is to keep a private record of the work that exists nowhere else. Not a journal for an audience. A working notebook the operator can check against the public version, to notice when the public version is starting to lead the private one.
The third is to accept that some of the most important work cannot be posted at all. It is structural, slow, unglamorous, or confidential. A practice that can only continue if every part of it is performable will become a thin practice. The operator’s job is to protect the unpostable parts even when the audience is signaling, in good faith, that they would prefer the postable ones.