A Writer Without Readers Is Just Keeping a Diary

A restaurant without guests isn’t really a restaurant. And a writer without readers is basically just someone keeping a diary.

I was thinking about this after reading a column by Floor Rusman in the Dutch newspaper NRC, about philosopher Francis Fukuyama and the rise of artificial intelligence. According to Fukuyama, much of our existence revolves around recognition. We want to be seen. We want to matter.

Take a chef. He loves cooking. Working with beautiful ingredients, creating new dishes, combining flavours. Put him alone in a kitchen and he’ll probably still cook. But how long will he enjoy it if nobody ever tastes his food?

A compliment from a guest, an empty plate, someone returning especially for that one dish. That’s what makes it worthwhile, too.

I recognise that feeling.

With Hotspots Algarve, I visit hundreds of restaurants, meet fascinating people and write about my experiences. I absolutely love it. But would I still do it if nobody read my stories?

Probably not.

And there’s something interesting about that. We like to believe we do things purely for ourselves. Because we enjoy them. Because they’re our passion. But apparently, we need other people to give that passion meaning.

And now comes AI. A machine that writes articles, creates images, composes music and might soon invent better recipes than the chef himself.

But for whom?

Perhaps that’s the big question of our time. Not what machines will eventually be capable of, but what we humans still want to mean to one another.

Because ultimately, the chef doesn’t just want to cook. He wants someone to enjoy his food.

And I don’t just want to write.

I want to be read.

Photo: Duoo Portimao