Farts in the wind

A friend tried his hand at starting a podcast last year. This week I bumped into him while going my for my evening run. We spoke about all sorts of things, then I remembered about his podcast.

Me: Hey, why haven't you uploaded anything new?

Him: Yeah, I don't know if I'll be recording episodes anymore.

Me: Why?

Him: It doesn't seem to be getting any traction.

Me: That can take time. But the stuff you've published so far is great. I genuinely enjoy listening to it.

Him: Blah blah (random excuses). My friends are all doing things that are far more popular. I'm going to try something else.

Me: Oh, ok.

We then proceeded to speak about other things before heading off in our respective directions.

On my way back home, I couldn't stop thinking about what he said.

We all try to make better decisions - I get that. But why has popularity become the primary indicator of what is good/right for so many people? I wonder how many creators abandon unpopular projects that someone could find useful.

Every small thing you put out in the world has the potential for momentous outcomes - that's what the butterfly effect is. Granted, every one of those outcomes is not guaranteed to make you wealthy or popular, but it can have an impact on someone, somewhere which is far beyond our scope of understanding.

A short video that I uploaded over a decade ago describing how to fix an issue with an "unpopular" model of a router still continues to get a few hundred views and a couple of 'thank you' comments each year.

Unpopular things matter. Unpopular things can be good.

And that is why we all must keep farting in the wind. Because the (proverbial) wind might just be one giant emergent collection of farts - who knows?