Most people define good writing by its mechanics: clarity, structure, grammar, maybe persuasion.
Of course those all matter, but they’re not why writing works.
Good writing is defined by what it does to the reader. It should lower cognitive friction by taking tangled thoughts and resolving them cleanly in someone else’s mind.
The reader should think, “Yes. That’s it. That’s what I was trying to articulate.”
That moment of recognition only happens because the writer did the hard thinking before asking the reader to do any.
When writing is vague, bloated, or evasive, it’s usually because the writer hasn’t decided what they actually think.
Good writing is the visible residue of resolved thinking—what’s left after confusion has been burned off.
But that definition is still too abstract to be useful.
So let’s make it more specific.
What is 'good' writing?
1. Good writing is intentional
Good writing knows why it exists.
It isn’t there to fill a calendar slot or feed an algorithm. It exists to shift a belief, deepen understanding, move an emotion, or trigger a specific action.
If a piece doesn’t have that kind of intent behind it, it usually won’t have readers in front of it.
2. Good writing is tasteful
Taste is the most invisible ingredient—and the hardest to teach.
It:
Governs restraint
Chooses which angle to pursue
Decides which analogy is unnecessary
Considers which explanation would insult the reader’s intelligence.
Taste is why two writers can get the same brief and produce outcomes that don’t even feel like the same genre.
AI struggles here because taste isn’t rule‑based. It comes from exposure, failure, and paying close attention over time.
Good taste is what keeps writing from sliding into noise.
3. Good writing respects the reader’s inner world
Good writing anticipates objections without sounding defensive, names fears without exploiting them, and offers insight without posturing.
Empathy comes in the form of accurate psychological timing. Saying the right thing at the right time matters more than saying everything.
This is the difference between a piece that feels like a conversation you didn’t know you needed, and an unsolicited lecture.
4. Good writing takes responsibility
It stands behind its claims by choosing precision over safety and meaning over volume. It accepts that saying something useful often means saying something incomplete because not everything belongs in one piece.
This is why good writing survives tools, trends, and platforms.
It’s not dependent on format or distribution and travels well because it’s grounded in thinking, judgment, and taste—which are human qualities that machines can amplify but not replace.
Is the bar for good writing moving?
We’re surrounded by words that are mechanically fine: clear enough, structured enough, grammatically correct, but AI tools are already good at producing that layer.
And they’ll keep getting better at it.
Which is exactly why the bar for good writing is moving.
The real scarcity isn’t text. It’s:
The judgment to say this and not that, now and not later
The taste to refuse to publish the first pass just because it’s coherent
The willingness to take responsibility for an idea instead of hiding behind abstractions and volume
Publishing should make you sweat a little.
Because good writing will always feel a little dangerous to produce and disproportionately safe to read.
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