Most advice about writing in public is about audience building. Grow your following. Get distribution. Be consistent so the algorithm rewards you.
That's all true as far as it goes. But it's not why I write, and I think optimising for it too early is a mistake.
I write because I can't think clearly without it.
Here's what happens when I try to hold an argument in my head: it feels complete. The connections between ideas feel solid. The logic seems airtight.
Then I start writing it down, and the gaps appear immediately.
This is the uncomfortable truth about thinking: the fluency of internal monologue masks how unformed most ideas actually are. Writing forces serialisation. You have to put one thing before the other. You have to commit to a claim before you can move to the next one. The moment you do, you find out whether the claim can actually support what you're building on top of it.
It usually can't, the first time.
My rule: the first draft is for me. It's a thinking tool, not a product. I'm figuring out what I actually believe.
The second draft is where I find the real argument. Often it's buried in the middle of the first draft — the thing I was warming up to writing, not the thing I thought I was going to write.
The third draft is the one I publish.
This sounds like a lot of work. It is, a little. But the first two drafts are usually fast — they're notes, not writing. The speed comes from not trying to write and think at the same time, which is where people get stuck.
Publishing matters for a reason that isn't about audience: it changes the stakes.
When I know something is going to be read, I hold it to a higher standard. I can't hand-wave the parts I don't understand. I can't leave the important assumption implicit. Knowing there's a reader makes me a better thinker, even when the actual readership is small.
This is the underrated value of writing in public. It's not the distribution. It's the discipline.
If you're not writing already, the reason is probably that you think you need something to say first. You don't. You need to start writing to find out what you think. The argument assembles itself in the process.
Start with the thing you keep trying to explain to people. Write the explanation you wish existed. You'll end up somewhere you didn't expect, and that somewhere will be more interesting than where you started.