Bad Writing Habits

On a whim, I asked Claude to analyze my writing style. Here’s what it found:

• Frequent use of words like “seems like,” “appears to,” “probably,” and “should” to soften your tone. Moderate use is fine, but overuse weakens the force of your arguments.
• Many sentence openers can be cut entirely; readers don’t need you to preview what you’re about to say.
• Sentences are often very long and information-dense. Shorter sentences can create emphasis and give readers room to breathe.
• Sometimes your best insights are buried in the middle or end of a paragraph. Bring them to the front to hook readers right away.
• Use fewer rhetorical questions and stick to assertive statements instead.

These suggestions are all common sense, but why do I still instinctively write like this?

It suddenly made me think of “defensive writing.” If you make your statements too absolute, trolls will nitpick every little detail.

To protect against attacks from trolls, I got used to adding hedging words like “I feel,” “probably,” and “seems like.” That way, even if someone pointed out an error, I could fall back on, “Well, I didn’t say it was absolute.”

But when you think about it, unless you’re citing data or simply stating an objective fact (like “this coffee is 40°C”), virtually everything you write implicitly means “I think.”

In my recent posts, I’ve tried to minimize these words as much as possible, though there’s still room for improvement. Letting AI help polish or cut out these “defensive words” has been pretty helpful.

As noted in the article on defensive writing:

What you need to defend against is not other people’s criticism, because that is impossible to prevent. No matter how thoughtful, hardworking, neutral, or objective you are, you can never get everyone to agree with your opinions, nor can you satisfy everyone.

If you genuinely make a mistake and get corrected, that’s a valuable learning opportunity—just apologize and update the post. As for trolls, simply ignore them. Don’t sacrifice your writing’s readability just to defend against meaningless criticism.

That realization was a wake-up call for me.

In the past, I really hated expressing my own opinions, or even my personal preferences, for fear that people would think, “That’s not how a software engineer should be.”

I wasn’t originally like this.

Back in college, I had a blog on Pixnet dedicated to novel reviews and daily journal entries—it was an outlet where I could freely express my thoughts and feelings.

My MBTI is INTP (the Logician), and it has never changed. Yet I consider myself more on the “F” (Feeling) side within the software development community, even though my wife still often calls out my straightforward, overly pragmatic mindset.

For example, the day Shinzo Abe was shot, it deeply affected my work. I was even on the verge of tears—I hated seeing something like that happen in a democratic society.

I was surprised that the people around me seemed to carry on working as if nothing had happened. Only my manager comforted me, saying, “If you’re feeling this way and can’t focus on work, just take time off. Mental health comes first.”

I’m still deeply grateful to that manager.

As I mentioned in Am I Being Helpful?, the tech community’s worship of strength and sense of superiority stems from fear.

Sometimes I lament how absurd this industry can be. Here we have a group of brilliant people, yet even showing emotion or vulnerability—innate human needs—feels forbidden. The only ways left to prove your worth are your technical depth, how many LeetCode problems you’ve solved, or whether you graduated from a top university.

You are already good enough. Truly.

I’d much rather see your imperfections, hear your life stories, learn what you love, and know what drove you to where you are today.