©Michele Monticello Essay all photos ©Michele Monticello
After writing Observation Before Opinion, I realised that the same principle applies to writing itself.
Today, there is enormous pressure to communicate in ways that satisfy algorithms. We are encouraged to write shorter, louder, faster, and in ways that maximise visibility. Success is often measured by clicks, likes, views, and shares. Yet I find myself becoming less interested in writing for algorithms and more interested in writing for people.
When I first began writing articles for the Michael Morris website, my intention was largely practical. I wanted to write informative pieces about the property market while helping the website become more visible online. Search optimisation has its place, and every business hopes to be discovered by new clients.
Somewhere along the way, the purpose changed. The articles became less about attracting attention and more about expressing ideas honestly. They were still about property, London, and the communities we serve, but they also became reflections on trust, change, people, and place. They became more enjoyable to write because they felt less like marketing and more like conversation.
Our business has never been built by shouting the loudest. We are not the type of agency that constantly pursues attention on Instagram, TikTok, or Facebook. Those platforms have their place, but they often encourage businesses to place themselves repeatedly in front of people, hoping to be noticed. That has never felt entirely natural to us.
We have been fortunate to build a business through relationships, reputation, and trust. Many of our clients return to us or recommend us to others. Like every business, we welcome new opportunities, but we have never wanted to pursue attention simply for its own sake.
Perhaps writing should reflect the same values. Not every essay will be widely read. Some may reach only a handful of people. Others may disappear quietly into the archive and that is perfectly acceptable. We cannot control who reads our work. We can only control whether it is written honestly. If it resonates with someone, then it has already fulfilled its purpose. In many ways, this mirrors the idea behind observation itself. Just as truth reveals itself through patient attention rather than force, perhaps meaningful communication also finds its audience through authenticity rather than persuasion.
Not everything needs to demand attention. Some things are discovered because they speak quietly.
Perhaps that is enough.