Editorial

Why We Prefer Explainers Over Outrage Posts

By C. V. Wooster

Evergreen process literacy compounds; rage spikes do not.

Anyone who publishes online learns quickly what spreads. Posts that make people angry, especially at a group they already dislike, travel further and faster than calm, careful explanations. For a publisher trying to grow, that creates a constant pull toward outrage: sharper headlines, villains instead of systems, takes instead of explanations.

At Taciturn Studios we've decided to mostly resist that pull. Our sites and our blog lean toward explainers: articles that help readers understand how something works, why a process exists and what they can do with that knowledge. This post explains why, both on principle and as a practical business decision.

What the research says about outrage and sharing

The pull toward outrage isn't imagined. Research has repeatedly found that emotionally charged, moralized content spreads more readily on social media.

  • In a 2017 study published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, William Brady, Jay Van Bavel and colleagues analyzed large numbers of tweets about contested political topics and found that messages containing moral-emotional language were more likely to be retweeted.
  • A 2021 study in the same journal by Steve Rathje, Jay Van Bavel and Sander van der Linden found that posts about political out-groups, the "other side," were shared substantially more than posts about one's own group, and that language expressing animosity toward out-groups was a strong predictor of engagement.

In other words, platforms tend to reward content that makes people feel morally indignant. That's the environment every publisher operates in. Knowing it doesn't oblige anyone to play along.

Why outrage is a bad deal for a small publisher

Setting aside the ethics for a moment, outrage content has practical problems for a studio like ours.

It decays fast. An angry post about this week's controversy is often irrelevant within days. An explainer on how book royalties are calculated, how a sitemap works or how to read a contract clause stays useful for years and keeps attracting readers through search long after social sharing has died down.

It attracts the wrong audience. People who arrive for a fight rarely stay for a guide. Readers who arrive because they needed something explained are more likely to come back, subscribe and trust our recommendations.

It erodes trust. Outrage usually requires simplifying: picking a villain, skipping context, presenting the worst interpretation. Readers who later learn the fuller picture remember who misled them.

It conflicts with advertising and platform standards. Advertisers and ad networks generally prefer to appear next to content that's useful rather than inflammatory, and sensational or misleading content can run into policy problems.

It's exhausting to produce. A steady diet of manufactured anger takes a toll on the people writing it. Explainers are harder to research but easier to live with.

What makes a good explainer

Explainers can be dull if done badly. The ones worth reading tend to share a few qualities:

  1. They start from a real question. "How does print-on-demand pricing actually work?" is better than "Everything you need to know about print-on-demand."
  2. They show the mechanism. Readers want to know not just what happens but why: what incentives, rules or processes produce the outcome.
  3. They're honest about uncertainty. Where experts disagree or evidence is thin, a good explainer says so instead of picking a side for drama.
  4. They cite sources. Readers should be able to check claims for themselves. Statistics and quotes must be real and traceable.
  5. They leave the reader able to do something. Make a decision, avoid a mistake, ask a better question.

Explaining controversy without exploiting it

Avoiding outrage doesn't mean ignoring controversy. Plenty of important topics are contested: changes to retailer policies, debates about AI in publishing, disputes between authors and platforms. Readers deserve to understand them.

The difference is in the approach. An outrage post asks, who should we be angry at? An explainer asks, what is actually happening, why, and what does it mean for you? It's possible to cover a contested change to a royalty structure by walking through the old and new terms, who benefits, who loses and what an author can do about it, without casting anyone as a cartoon villain.

When we cover heated topics, we try to:

  • State the strongest version of each side's case.
  • Separate facts from interpretation clearly.
  • Avoid headlines that promise more conflict than the article contains.
  • Update the piece if facts change, and note the update.

Process literacy compounds

Much of what we publish could be called "process literacy": helping people understand the systems they work within. For authors, that means how publishing platforms, advertising, distribution and rights actually operate. For readers of our topic sites, it means understanding the subject well enough to make their own decisions.

This kind of knowledge compounds. Someone who understands how a system works can handle the next change to it without needing a new hot take. They become more capable and less dependent on whoever is shouting loudest that week. That's a better outcome for readers and, over time, a more durable relationship for us as a publisher.

It's also why we're comfortable with slower growth. An explainer library builds steadily through search and word of mouth rather than spiking and vanishing. We wrote about pacing in A Calm Approach to Shipping Content at Scale, and about which numbers we actually watch in Measuring Fleet Health Beyond Vanity Traffic.

A checklist we use before publishing

Before a piece goes live, we ask:

  • Would this still be useful a year from now?
  • Does the headline accurately describe the article?
  • Have we represented people we disagree with fairly?
  • Is every factual claim sourced?
  • Will the reader leave knowing how to do something, or just feeling something?

If a draft fails these questions, we rework it or set it aside.

Where to see this in practice

Our answers section is built around explainers on common questions authors ask, and our editorial policy sets out the standards behind them. If you publish yourself, it's worth asking which kind of content you want your name attached to in five years. For us, the answer is the kind people bookmark rather than the kind they argue about and forget.