We believe that in order to create a great reading experience for humans, other humans should be part of that process.
Collections: Curating a More Browsable Medium
katie zhu

I strongly disagree, unless you mean writers where it says other humans. I want to be the one to decide what I read. The only one.

We are already looking at the world through layers upon layers of filters. We don’t look at the world out there as it is; we look at opinions of opinions of curated selections of opinions of distortions of rubber-stamped opinions of distortions of lies about opinions of what’s out there.

Oftentimes parties have a vested interest in not being frank about applying a certain filter, but even where it is explicit it usually comes down to choosing the items that were already more visible than others and further promoting those.

I think it would be better to phrase it like this:

Our CEO believes that in order to maximise the ROI for our shareholders, we should determine what you read.

The overall effect is less diversity, not only because non-promoted rest of us is made less visible, but even more so because the process encourages people to tailor their writing to what they see will get it selected. And indeed, this is exactly what we see: a monotonous stream of life-improvement articles that can hardly be told apart – and not just because they share an inclination to promote that poor, underprivileged little word “fucking” as much as they feel they can get away with without typecasting themselves as a sulking nine-year old – and overestimating that every time again.

The only case where I trust is value is added by curating is when it doesn’t narrow the view but widen it: a museum presenting an unknown artist; a radio programme such as “Heartlands” that we had over here, where the makers delighted by unearthing completely unknown gems (Eugene Fox’ Sinner’s Dream comes to mind, or Captain Beefheart, or Big Maybelle, or Lord Kitchener … or a thousand others of whom I’d never have heard without that show); or an art house theatre presenting Fellini’s restored Notte di Cabiria (at the ending scene of which one could witness the rare spectacle of a theatre full of highbrow cinephiles trying to not show their tears).

Now, of course it could be that your intent is similar to that. But I have very little reason for holding my breath given what I’ve seen scrolling past in the past two weeks.