AI can already churn out 1,000 words about a single topic. Ask it to write about writing, and within seconds it produces an article that would normally take an experienced human writer with knowledge about the theory of writing an hour.

This development will flood the internet with long-form blog posts produced at scale. Quantity will no longer be a signal of effort, skill, or insight in the era of AI.

To distinguish yourself from AI-generated content, writing less may be the better strategy.

• Start with a clear idea.
• Collect your thoughts around it.
• Freely write your article about these thoughts.
• Then compress it all into as few words as possible.

Focus on the density of meaning rather than word count. In an era where AI can generate endless text, clarity and minimalism may become the strongest signals of human authorship.

More than ten years ago, I ran a freelancing service that included writing SEO articles for German websites. I wrote about crypto, fitness, event hotels, gardening, and many other topics. The goal was always the same for every client: write as many articles as possible to cover the three or four main keywords from every possible angle.

In fitness, for example, that meant keywords like:

• Lose weight
• Build muscle
• …

So I was asked to write article after article from that perspective, such as:

• How to lose weight with strength training
• How to lose weight with running
• How to lose weight with low-carb
• How to lose weight with intermittent fasting
• How to lose weight…

You get the idea.

At some point, I had covered every topic I could think of. So the client simply wanted me to repeat myself, just with slightly different long-tail keywords:

• How to lose weight with low-carb
• Losing weight with low-carb
• Is losing weight with low-carb possible?
• What is the most efficient way to lose weight with low-carb?
• …

Naturally, this led to articles that recycled the same old information. Eventually, I could just take the articles I had already written, rephrase them a bit, and change a few key sentences to include the new long-tail keywords.

It was boring. It was ridiculous. But it paid the bills.

Thanks to that experience, I’ve become very attentive when reading other people’s blogs. Whenever I see this repetitive structure, I know I’m not reading a genuine, authentic blogger who wants a space to share ideas. Instead, I’m looking at a corporate blog that exists solely to cover keywords for Google.

And the only thing I’ll get out of reading it is the same repetitive stuff I already learned from the first handful of posts on that site. So I’m out. Bye.

Personal blogs might be harder to rank on Google, but once you find them, you discover new ideas, new opinions, and new topics for as long as you follow them. That’s what I like. That’s what I’m interested in. And that’s what is easily identifiable by simple looking for blogs that don’t write this repetitive keyword shit.

Social media has taught millions of kids to “fake it till they make it.” What nobody told them is that most people never make it. The result is an army of 14-year-olds pretending to be experts on fitness, crypto, politics, and life without having any knowledge or experience.

Influencers have learned that being early matters far more than being right, because algorithms reward novelty and anything that saturates a new niche. If you post a video about a rising shitcoin today, you’ll get more views than if you post about it next week—when its price has inevitably crashed back to near zero. Remember NFTs? All these NFT gurus have disappeared because the money flow has long dried up and with it: they hype.

Problem is: People love the hype.

So, in the race for views, jumping on hype trains becomes the bread and butter of anyone trying to blow up online as fast as possible.

But here’s the catch: you only have one reputation to lose. Once it’s gone, you’ll never get it back—just ask Jack Murphy.

The sad part is that some people really do succeed by faking it. There are those infamous twin influencers who’ve been riding the wave of low-IQ hype content since they were teenagers. And other 14-year-olds see this as a blueprint, because that one example turned into millions of dollars and supermodel girlfriends.

What they don’t see are the countless others who try the same thing, fail, and permanently stain their names in the process.

If you want real advice from someone who spent six years on YouTube just to reach 10K subscribers: be real, be honest, and never fake it. Real growth takes time. A few people blow up overnight—some are even handpicked by the powers that be. But for most of us, it takes years of daily work and authenticity to build even a small audience. And you rarely hear about that, because most people aren’t willing to stick it out for that long.

But if you are willing, you’ll be on the safe side. No one will dig up dirt on you. No one will uncover lies or fakery, because you built everything slowly, organically, and truthfully without dirt and fakes involved.

That’s exactly how I intend to handle my writing project.

So far, I’ve sold fewer than 100 copies of my personal “best-selling” novel Forever. By most standards, it’s a failure—for now. But that’s how things really work online: you’re a failure for days, weeks, months, and sometimes years.

Until one day, finally, you’ve turned into a success.

BuzzFeed used to do it with almost every single article. I once discovered a website that covered many of my interests—stories, tech, fitness, online growth, and more. On Medium and countless blogs, you’ll find the same pattern. I must have read thousands of those number/list-articles.

Why do they all use numbered headlines? Because they work — until they don’t.

BuzzFeed was the worst thing that ever happened to writing on the internet—but it wasn’t really BuzzFeed’s fault. They simply optimized for what people clicked on. At some point, they realized that “7 Ways to Lose Weight (Number 3 Will Surprise You)” performed far better than “A Comprehensive Guide to Losing Weight.” Since their goal was to maximize clicks, they leaned heavily into this style of writing.

However, I don’t use that structure—and I don’t recommend that you do either.

Here’s why: Despite reading thousands of articles with that format, I can’t remember a single website besides BuzzFeed where I found them. No joke, no exaggeration. I don’t remember the authors, the bloggers, or the magazines. They’ve simply vanished from my memory.

I can’t recall a single specific article that used this formula. “7 Ways to Build Muscle Fast”? I couldn’t tell you even one of the seven.

Why is that?

Because articles with numbered headlines are like fast food. They look tempting, they’re marketed well, but once you’ve consumed them, you realize you’ve gained nothing of lasting value. You still remember that night you had a steak at a five-star restaurant—but you probably don’t remember your first Big Mac.

Fast-food number/list-articles are the same. You consume them, digest them, shit them out, and forget them—almost immediately afterwards you crave something real.

Of course, not every numbered article is of low quality. But by now, too many creators have abused the formula, stuffing low-value content down our throats. Whenever I see a “numbers post,” I just skip it.

Write lists or write something personal.

Numbered posts are the opposite of personal writing. They don’t tell the reader who you are or give them a reason to come back.

Just like you don’t care about returning to McDonald’s because there is another one at every corner, you don’t care about that site with the numbers articles because they can be found all over the internet.

BuzzFeed News is already gone, and BuzzFeed Inc. is struggling financially. The biggest example of “number-post” success has turned into a case study in short-term rise and mid-term failure—and that doesn’t surprise me at all.

If you want to build a real relationship with your readers—or any relationship at all—stay away from numbered headlines and formulas.