What’s the point of having a website, anyway?
Is it just to say you have one?
Or is it to actually say something?
That question matters more now than it did when I first wrote about this.
Because today, content is everywhere.
AI can generate pages, posts, answers, ideas — instantly.
So if everything can be said, what’s the point of having a place to say it?
Let’s go back
Before websites, ideas traveled through physical mediums.
Books.
Newspapers.
Journals.
Pamphlets.
Letters.
Publishing took effort. Distribution took time. Access was uneven.
To share something beyond your immediate circle, you needed a path in. Or you had to build one.
Websites changed that.
They removed the gatekeeper. They lowered the cost. They sped everything up.
Now anyone could publish. Anyone could connect. Anyone could build something that lived beyond their immediate environment.
That shift still matters. But it’s no longer the full story.
What a website actually gives you
A website is not just a place to publish.
It’s a place where your work can relate.
The word “web” isn’t accidental.
A web connects things.
Pages link to each other. Ideas build on each other. One thought leads to another. Someone arrives for one reason and stays for something else.
Over time, a structure forms.
Not just content, but context.
Not just posts, but a body of work.
And that changes the interaction.
A social post is a moment.
A website can hold a line of thinking.
A feed moves on.
A website lets someone move through.
That difference is where the value is.
The relationship layer
A website creates the conditions for a different kind of relationship.
Someone can find you through a question they already have.
They can read one piece, then another.
They can start to understand how you think.
You’re not introducing yourself over and over again.
Your work is doing that for you.
Quietly. Continuously.
This is especially relevant now.
When content is abundant, context becomes the filter.
When everything sounds similar, structure reveals difference.
A website lets that structure exist.
1996: My 5th grade teacher had a weekly trivia game that prompted my first web search, at the local library, using Netscape. The question: “what man made thing can you see from the moon?”
1999: In 8th grade, I started getting bussed to a school in the suburbs, which meant arriving an hour early and camping out in the computer lab. My favorite thing to search? Rap lyrics.
2001: In high school, I created my first personal website and started making websites for different class projects. When my mom asked me what I wanted to do, I said, “websites.”
2004: I started college, made a website for my production company, Spectacular Productions, and sold my first beat online for $30.
2009: In grad school, I thought about starting a blog, a professional one. But what would I blog about? What would I say? Back then, I had no confidence in my ideas or the thought of sharing them online.
2013: I started the first version of the website you’re on right now. The theme was arrivals and departures. Leaving the old and embarking on something new. The next year I’d start freelancing full-time.
2015: I started a website and case study at SQSPThemes.com to prove to myself that I could create an online business.
Everything I learned there, I’ll be sharing and exercising here.
Lesson 1: A website that has no intention to publish is just a digital business card. Rarely is there any reason to return.
So even though I’ve always had a personal website, I’ve never quite invested in it—until now.
