Most Writing Is Bad Because It Doesn’t Know Why It Exists

Ask anyone who has ever written something that actually worked—a punchy social post, a compelling blog entry, a persuasive ad, or even a user manual that finally made sense—and they’ll tell you: it didn’t begin with confidence or inspiration. It started with motive. Real motive. Before the first sentence hit the page, there was already a reason burning behind it. Writing wasn’t a search for clarity. It was the final execution of it.

In college editing classes, students are often introduced to the concept of exigence in rhetorical theory. This aligns perfectly with the idea that strong writing needs two things: a clear thesis and a compelling motive. While the thesis is usually straightforward, the motive—that deeper reason the piece truly deserves to exist—often leaves students blank. Ask why they wrote a particular essay, and the most common answer is, “Because it was assigned.”

That’s not a motive. That’s compliance. And it’s exactly why so much writing feels hollow. The form may be polished, but the pulse is missing.

Writing without motive is like swinging a sword at fog. There’s motion, but no impact.

What readers truly want to know is this: What gripped the writer’s mind hard enough to make them sit down and wrestle with a blank page rather than scroll TikTok or eat cereal straight from the box? Why this topic, and why now?

Idea for Impact: If a writer can answer that—whether it’s obsession, frustration, or a question that won’t let go—the piece gains traction. The spark becomes visible. And maybe, just maybe, the reader will feel it too.