Generative AI is rapidly increasing the volume of content on the internet. In the past, a person’s output as a blogger was limited by time, energy and accumulated knowledge. AI can now produce a structurally complete article within minutes and continue doing so almost without limit. In terms of sheer quantity, human writers cannot compete. The proportion of online content produced through individual human effort will inevitably become smaller.
That does not mean personal blogs will disappear. What is really changing is the value of ordinary writing and general information. Both are becoming abundant, and therefore less valuable in themselves.
Many blogs once attracted search traffic by answering common questions through software tutorials, product comparisons, travel guides, explanations of concepts and summaries of publicly available material. AI can now bring this information together directly and adapt the answer to the particular question being asked. Once users have an answer, they may have no reason to visit the original webpage. A blog may be read, processed and used by search engines and AI systems without receiving a corresponding visit.
Blogs built around general information will feel this pressure most strongly. They will not disappear immediately, but the reason for maintaining them as independent sites will become weaker. If an article merely reorganises public information, writing every word by hand does not make it substantially different from something AI can produce. At the same time, using AI does not automatically remove an article’s value. What matters is whether the writing has a genuine source and whether it carries the writer’s own experience, judgement and gradually developed thought.
When I began maintaining a personal blog, my purpose was not to build another general knowledge website. I wanted somewhere to record and organise my thoughts, experiences, accumulated observations and reflections. My specialised research has its own websites and platforms. The personal site sits closer to the foundational layer where thoughts first begin to take shape. At that stage, an idea may be incomplete. It may start as a feeling, an observation or a judgement whose implications are not yet clear. I record it first, then allow time and further thought to reveal how it connects with other ideas.
My philosophical thinking has not been built all at once. It grows through the accumulation of everyday thought and continues to change as new experience leads me to revise earlier conclusions. Before material reaches specialised websites and platforms such as Sustenesis.com (https://sustenesis.com), SonaMinds.com (https://sonaminds.com) or AfterTheSubject.com (https://afterthesubject.com), its earliest fragments, provisional judgements and traces of thought often appear on the personal site. They may not yet have a complete theoretical form, but they preserve the process through which the thinking actually developed. That process has value of its own.
I also follow a basic principle when deciding what belongs on a personal website. I should first like the material myself, and it should be worth recording or organising for my own purposes. A personal website is rather like the garden at one’s own home. It is made for the person who lives there. You tend it, plant what you like and watch it grow. People passing by are welcome to stop, look around and perhaps stay for a while. Still, the garden is not designed primarily to please every passer-by.
If I kept adding material that did not genuinely interest me simply because it might attract traffic, the garden could become larger while gradually ceasing to be mine. I would not publish something I dislike merely because it might bring more visitors. The internet already contains more than enough general information. When a personal website tries to answer everything, it may look extensive, but visitors can no longer tell what its author actually thinks. Generic material can also disturb the site’s internal character and slowly dilute its original content.
I do not reject the use of AI in writing, but I try to keep it in an assisting role. Before writing, it can help with brainstorming and fact-checking. It can also assist with proofreading and translation. When I come to express the actual argument, however, I want to retain my own language, judgement and rhythm of thought, while keeping AI intervention in the editing process to a minimum. A personal website is personal expression. If that expression is reshaped into standardised AI prose, the articles may become neater while the site gradually loses its voice.
Even material kept as part of a broader body of knowledge should fit the site’s position, style and underlying taste. Not every correct piece of information belongs on a personal website. What is left out can matter as much as how much is published.
What AI threatens is not the form of the personal blog itself, but the blog that contains little of the person behind it. Sites sustained mainly by search keywords, generic knowledge and large quantities of interchangeable articles will face an increasingly difficult future. Blogs grounded in real experience, continuing thought and identifiable authorship may become a smaller part of the web, but that scarcity will also make them easier to recognise.
The future internet will not lack articles. What it will lack is thought whose source can still be identified. People will continue to need to know who formed an idea, how it developed and why it later changed. A personal blog can preserve that history. Material on social platforms soon sinks from view, while an AI answer is usually a temporary synthesis. A blog can keep years of experience, feeling and judgement within a relatively stable structure.
Traditional personal blogs will therefore not simply be eliminated by AI, although the basis of their value will change. Their role in providing general information is declining. Their role in recording individual experience, preserving the origins of ideas and building knowledge over time will become more important. The number of articles may eventually matter less than a simpler question. When content can be generated at any moment, what does this particular site preserve that genuinely belongs to its author and cannot be casually replaced?
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