Walk through any bookstore, and you’ll sense it immediately: the weight of ideas bound in paper, the quiet hum of human thought preserved. Now scroll through your feed. What do you find? Listicles optimized for clicks, headlines screaming for attention, content so finely tuned to algorithms it feels like it was assembled by committee. We’ve traded depth for reach, resonance for reach. But somewhere in the noise, a quiet rebellion stirs: blogs that refuse to play the game. Not because they’re contrarian, but because they’re human.
The Illusion of Optimization
We’ve been sold a lie: that great writing is about perfecting the formula. Use the right keywords. Structure with H2s and H3s. Keep paragraphs short. End with a call-to-action. These tactics work—for machines. They help Google categorize your content. They help LinkedIn’s algorithm decide who sees your post. But they do nothing for the human on the other side of the screen, craving something real.
Consider the last piece that truly moved you. Chances are, it didn’t follow the rules. Maybe it meandered. Maybe it used words you had to look up. Maybe it didn’t even have a clear takeaway. But it stuck with you because it felt alive. It wasn’t optimized; it was felt.
The Anatomy of Unruly Writing
1. The Tangible Voice
Algorithm-friendly writing is generic. Unruly writing has fingerprints. It’s the difference between a mass-produced chair and one hand-carved from walnut. You can see the maker’s choices—the uneven grain, the slight asymmetry, the places where the wood resisted the chisel.
Take The Marginalian (formerly Brain Pickings). Maria Popova’s essays don’t follow SEO best practices. They’re long, winding, and dense with literary references. Yet millions read them because her voice is unmistakable—curious, erudite, unapologetically complex. She writes like she’s having a conversation with you over coffee, not shouting into a void.
2. The Unpolished Edge
We’re taught to sand down our writing until it’s smooth and featureless. But friction creates connection. When a writer admits doubt, shares a half-formed idea, or leaves a question unanswered, they invite readers into the process. It’s not about being sloppy; it’s about being honest.
Look at Tim Urban’s Wait But Why. His stick-figure drawings and rambling footnotes break every “professional writing” rule. Yet his posts on procrastination and AI have been read by millions because they feel like a discovery, not a lecture. You’re not just consuming information—you’re watching someone think out loud.
3. The Slow Burn
Algorithms reward immediacy. Unruly blogs reward patience. They don’t promise “5 Quick Tips” or “The Secret to Success.” They dig. They explore. They sit with complexity.
Nautilus magazine built a following on “slow science” journalism—long-form pieces that unfold like novels. An article on quantum entanglement might weave in philosophy, personal narrative, and history. It’s not efficient. It’s not skimmable. But for readers tired of snackable content, it’s a feast.
Why We Crave the Unruly
In a world of infinite choice, we’re starving for substance. Studies show attention spans aren’t shrinking—they’re selective. People will read 5,000 words if the writing grips them. They’ll follow a writer for years if they trust their voice.
Unruly blogs work because they:
- Resist the Performance Trap: They’re not trying to impress. They’re trying to connect.
- Honor Complexity: They don’t reduce ideas to bullet points. They sit with nuance.
- Prioritize Depth Over Reach: They’d rather change one reader’s life than impress a thousand.
How to Write Algorithm-Proof (Without Trying)
This isn’t about rejecting tools or ignoring SEO. It’s about remembering who you’re writing for: humans.
1. Write for One Person
Imagine a specific reader—someone you respect, someone who challenges you. Write to them. Not to a demographic. Not to a bot. This single shift transforms generic advice into a conversation.
2. Embrace the Messy Middle
Don’t rush to the point. Let your thinking show. Share the false starts, the dead ends, the moments of confusion. That’s where insight lives.
3. Delete 20% of Your Words
Algorithms reward keyword stuffing. Humans reward concision. Cut every sentence that doesn’t serve your idea. Then cut 10% more.
4. Write with Your Hands
Literally. Use a notebook. Doodle. Mind-map. Physical engagement unlocks different thinking than typing. When you finally draft, you’ll bring that tactile energy to the screen.
5. Break the Fourth Wall
Admit when you don’t know something. Share a personal failure. Use humor that isn’t focus-grouped. Vulnerability isn’t weakness—it’s the fastest path to trust.
The Unruly Bloggers Who Changed the Game
1. Paul Graham’s Essays
The co-founder of Y Combinator writes about startups, philosophy, and life with startling clarity. No SEO tricks. No catchy headlines. Just rigorous thinking, beautifully articulated. His essay “How to Do Great Work” has been shared millions times—not because it’s optimized, but because it’s true.
2. Heather Cox Richardson
A history professor who started a Substack newsletter during the 2020 election. Her daily posts analyze politics through historical context. They’re long, dense, and free of sensationalism. Yet she built a readership of over a million because she treats readers like adults.
3. Kottke.org
Jason Kottke has been blogging since 1998. His site is a curated collection of “fine hypertext products”—links, essays, oddities. No clear niche. No consistent schedule. Just 25 years of following his curiosity. It’s a testament to the power of idiosyncrasy.
The Future Is Human (and Unruly)
As AI generates more content, the value of human writing will skyrocket. Not because humans are “better” writers, but because we bring something machines can’t: lived experience, flawed perspective, and the courage to be incomplete.
The next wave of great blogs won’t be optimized. They’ll be felt. They’ll be messy, personal, and unapologetically human. They’ll be the campfires in the digital wilderness—places where people gather not because they’re told to, but because they’re drawn to the warmth.
Your Invitation to the Rebellion
You don’t need a massive platform. You don’t need viral headlines. You need:
- Honesty: Write what you believe, even if it’s unpopular.
- Curiosity: Follow your questions, not just answers.
- Courage: Press “publish” when it’s imperfect but true.
The algorithm doesn’t care about your voice. But your readers do. They’re tired of being fed. They want to be nourished. So write the thing only you can write. The unruly thing. The human thing.
Because in the end, the best blogs aren’t found through search engines. They’re passed from one person to another, like a secret worth keeping. And that’s a metric no algorithm can measure.
