Performative Existing

The Spectrum of Motivation #

Human behavior springs from a fascinating spectrum of motivations. At one end lie our intrinsic drives—actions we undertake simply because they resonate with our authentic desires and values. I listen to certain music because the melodies and rhythms genuinely move me. At the opposite end are extrinsic necessities—things we do because external circumstances require them. I complete certain work tasks not because they bring me joy, but because they represent necessary contributions to larger endeavors I’ve committed to.

This framework seems straightforward enough until we introduce a third category that has expanded dramatically in our digitally-mediated world: actions undertaken primarily for their documentary and performative value. I’ve come to think of this phenomenon as “performative existing”—living experiences not for their inherent qualities but for how they can be captured, curated, and displayed to an audience of online spectators.

Consider the museum visit undertaken by someone with no genuine interest in art or cultural artifacts. In this scenario, the exhibition itself becomes merely a backdrop—the real purpose is capturing compelling imagery that communicates a particular identity narrative to social media audiences. The experience isn’t lived from the inside out, but constructed from the outside in, with the imagined viewer’s perspective as the primary consideration.

This inversion represents a significant shift in how we relate to our experiences. In previous eras, activities were generally pursued either for their intrinsic rewards or their necessary outcomes. Today, many people regularly engage in activities they might otherwise avoid, solely because these experiences serve as raw material for their ongoing personal narrative performance. We’ve developed a peculiar relationship with our own lives, simultaneously living them and producing them for consumption.

The Self-Examination of Motivation #

This phenomenon has prompted me to reflect more deeply on the motivational currents underlying both my own choices and those I observe around me. The question becomes increasingly complex: What portion of our activities stems from authentic internal desire versus external impression management? Are you selecting that vacation destination because it genuinely calls to your curiosity and interests, or because it will yield enviable content for your social feeds? Is your choice of reading material guided by genuine intellectual engagement, or is it selected partly for how it positions your identity in others’ eyes? Does your personal aesthetic reflect your authentic taste, or is it calibrated primarily for external validation?

The reality, of course, is nuanced. Few of our actions spring from purely singular motivations. Social beings by nature, we’ve always navigated the interplay between intrinsic desires and community perceptions. We might pursue achievements partly to make our families proud, adopt certain interests to connect with like-minded others, or cultivate aspects of our identity that align with values we admire in our social circles.

These social dimensions of motivation aren’t inherently problematic—they reflect our deeply interconnected nature as humans. The distinction worth examining lies in our level of awareness and intentionality. The practice I’ve found most valuable is simply bringing conscious attention to the question: Am I undertaking this action primarily because it resonates with my authentic self, or primarily because of how I imagine it will be perceived? This awareness doesn’t necessarily change the action itself, but it fosters a more honest relationship with our own motivations.

Personal Practice: Writing as Authentic Expression #

My approach to this blog exemplifies my personal negotiation with these dynamics. My writing emerges primarily from intrinsic motivation—I write because the process itself brings me satisfaction and clarity. While I appreciate that some people find value in reading these thoughts, I’ve deliberately avoided orienting my practice around audience metrics. I don’t track readership statistics or optimize for traffic, choices that help maintain the writing’s connection to my authentic interests rather than external validation.

This isn’t to claim some special virtue of authenticity—rather, it represents a conscious decision about which form of satisfaction I’m optimizing for. I find that when I write primarily for my own exploration and clarity, the resulting content tends to provide more genuine value than when I try to anticipate and cater to audience expectations.

I remain aware that publishing inherently involves judgment and interpretation by others. However, I’ve found value in cultivating a writing practice that prioritizes fidelity to my thought process over strategic self-presentation. I aim for a style that approximates my natural thinking patterns—candid, exploratory, and without excessive filtration or calculation about how each statement might position me in readers’ perceptions.

This approach naturally produces mixed results. Some pieces resonate more effectively than others; some explore ideas that ultimately prove less interesting than they initially seemed. I’ve come to view this as a natural consequence of any authentic creative process. As in baseball, even the most skilled practitioners fail more often than they succeed—the key is continuing to step up to the plate with genuine engagement rather than becoming paralyzed by concerns about perception.

Beyond Self-Congratulation: A Framework for Authentic Choice #

This reflection isn’t meant as self-congratulation for achieving some superior level of authenticity—these questions around motivation and alignment represent ongoing negotiations rather than settled accomplishments. The value lies not in claiming perfect authenticity but in developing a practice of conscious discernment about our choices.

The framework I find most helpful centers around four key questions:

1. Why am I doing this? (Examining true motivations beyond surface justifications)
2. Who am I doing this for? (Identifying the true beneficiary of the activity)
3. Is this intrinsically worthwhile? (Evaluating the inherent value separate from social perception)
4. Who ultimately benefits from this action? (Following the chain of value to its end)

This final question reveals particularly interesting insights in our digital ecosystem. When we post carefully curated content to social platforms, we often frame the activity in terms of personal expression or connection. Yet examined through this framework, we might recognize that while we receive momentary dopamine rewards from engagement metrics, the most significant and durable value flows to the platforms themselves.

Our ephemeral content—forgotten by our social connections within days—continues generating revenue through advertising and algorithmic optimization long after we’ve moved on to creating the next post. The attention economy operates through this exchange: moments of our authentic experience and connection traded for corporate data collection and targeted influence.

This isn’t an argument for digital abstinence, but rather for conscious participation—understanding the true nature of the transaction and making informed choices about which aspects of our lives we convert into content. The clearer we become about our true motivations, the more intentionally we can navigate these choices.