We live in a world where proving one’s own reflection is becoming imperative. It has become easy to generate text, and for anyone to create the illusion of competence. Nothing is certain anymore. Everything is doubtful. Everything is image.
Writing no longer demonstrates professionalism, embodied reflection, or ethics—especially since publishing itself is not immune to commercial logics. Write in Public — why I make my writing visible, before publication, sometimes at the mere stage of a rough draft of a few pages.
All it takes is a well-crafted prompt on a powerful AI tool to publish a book, and a bit of storytelling to simulate thought where there is only a patchwork of recycled content, empty words, strung together by style. I do not write anything that merely repeats what already exists.
There is no point in reconstructing what others have already thought. Through this process, I aim not only to prove indubitably that I am the author, but also to show what it means to think, to write, when one refuses to cheat with oneself and with reality in the name of visibility.
I détour the concept of “build in public” into “write in public.” Every piece of work (when digital) made public here is shared in its raw version: digressions, dead ends, margin notes, deliberate erasures, unfinished sections. Each significant step forward gives rise to a new published version, while preserving a trace of the previous one.
Because thought does not need to be perfect to be authentic—it is the product of maturation, of evolution, just like its formulation in words. AI can help to phrase, to clarify an idea, to articulate it better; it can expand, suggest sources, reconstruct the final bibliography from the text. But it does not think in my place. It cannot write what I have not yet thought, articulated, or lived.
