Jared Oliphint
3 min readFeb 24, 2018

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A Case for Posting Complex Content

Why in the world would I post something like this?

I know it will get almost no likes or retweets, and it might appeal to about 1–3% of my followers, at best. If interaction and engagement are not my motivators, am I driven by some desire to look smart or academic? What else could be the upside of posting something like this?

I’ll give you a few reasons why from time to time I willingly and knowingly post things that appear as wasted tweets.

  1. Goin’ Fishin’: Maybe, just maybe, someone out there has a similar interest and can comment on it. Academia can at times feel a bit lonely and isolated from the rest of the world, and every so often I like to test whether others share some of the same thoughts on complex issues. When that happens, the “virtual” meeting of like-minded people can be an encouragement.
  2. Swimming Against the Stream: As a medium, Twitter does not lend itself to nuanced, careful language and thought. I don’t follow many people, because I want to limit what I see and read to the nuanced, complex end of the spectrum as much as I can. For most people, Twitter reflects a stream of impulsive thought-belches, Hollywood pontifications, political slapfights, and sensationalized “news.” If I can contribute to interrupting that trend in some way, that’s satisfying to me.
  3. Raising the Tide: This point builds on the previous one, but I don’t think many would argue that most content shared on Twitter tends to be at a superficial level. Your timeline can easily be filled with mental candy, even if you carefully choose who you follow. Most people have no interest in analytic metaphysics (and in a sense, rightly so), but some academic articles can fulfill the function of simply showing — “Here is the kind of deep thinking that is possible.” It can put bubble gum content in stark relief to rich, thoughtful work. And I think a reminder about that difference is worth displaying from time to time.
  4. Theological Breadth: (I don’t have an aquatic metaphor for this one.) Because I have a foot in the academic theological world, I’d like to think that theologians have an interest in philosophical work that overlaps in some way with the theological field, directly or indirectly. Too many systematic theologians and historical theologians consider themselves adequately philosophically aware if they mention Plato’s Forms or Aristotle’s hylomorphism, when groundbreaking, significant work has been done in all kinds of sub-fields within philosophy that practically never gets mentioned by theologians. So if theological labor works well as a communal effort, and if there has been work done in the neighboring field of philosophy that bears relevance to that effort, an awareness of its work couldn’t hurt.

If I searched deeply within myself I might find that the appearance of intelligence or the cheap thrill of being a contrarian motivates me more than I know. But as much as I’m aware of my own main intentions, the points above accurately reflect my background thoughts when I post academic work. Those kinds of posts will never go viral, nor are they intended to, and I hope others don’t have virality as a standard or expectation for every tweet. (I’ve had tweets go viral and, honestly, they’re almost completely forgotten within a day or so. A viral tweet is immediately disposable; attach any amount of self-worth to it and both will be immediately disposed.)

Quality over virality.

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Jared Oliphint

PhD Student in Philosophy. College Station, TX. What doesn’t fit on twitter.