Some Things You Can't Measure

Today, I removed Google Analytics from my website.

I haven't looked at any metrics for years, and the privacy downsides no longer were worth having it send usage data to Google. This task has been on my list for a couple of months, and while ripping out all references to the Google Analytics library from the code (this stuff spreads like cancer, I tell you), I wondered why I don't look at metrics.

Sometimes, someone else gives you the answer to the question you ask yourself. In this case, it's Cory Doctorow, who's blog post about his motivation to write I've read after I've committed the code changes to git.

Much of what he writes resonates with me. Yes, I write to be read. But I would probably write without being read, too. Simply because the act of writing itself is an important part of my thinking processes. You can bullshit yourself when thinking. It's much harder to do that when writing.

Regardless, I hope that people read what I write, and that they find it helpful or interesting. I hope to be part of a bigger conversation, even if many participants contribute "only" by reading.¹

It's impossible to measure those things quantitatively. An issue of Let's be Fwends is successful if someone hits "reply" to respond to a thing or two they noticed, liked, or considered important. And not when the open rate increased.

My most cherished moments are when someone replies to an article or a newsletter with a new idea or a link to something they recommend to me.

My main goal is not quantitative. It's not how many subscribers I have, and that my posts keep getting more popular. My main goal is to create connections with other people, and the interactions that result from them.

But that doesn't mean I'm not curious at all how many people read what I'm doing. But since I'm not doing any fancy analytics anyway, I replaced Google Analytics with Insights, a privacy-friendly, simple tracking solution.