Clap clap clap

How One-Clappers Are Screwing Over Writers

For the love of the claps

One-clappers come to our articles in ninja mode. They wait in the virtual shadows for us to hit publish.

Once our article is out there, they don’t read it but click as fast as they can on the clapping sign and do it only once. They see the “zero to one effect” and rejoice.

Under their blankets in the comfort of their bed, or enjoying the bubbles of their jacuzzi, the one-clappers imagine the writer receiving the clapping notification.

They know the writer is curious. It’s the first clapper on their article, after all. The writer wonders how many claps they received. For someone to clap so fast after they hit publish, it must be a die-hard fan. For sure 50 claps; maybe 49 if they didn’t pay attention. Or maybe 99 if they found the secret bug in the interface that enables more than 50 claps.

So the writer clicks on the notification, and, horror, it’s only one clap?! The writer hits refresh, doubtful; there must have been some kind of mistake. It cannot be just one clap? It is. “Still one clap,” the writer laments, stands up, and runs around the house pulling their hair. Balding themselves from the despair. They’ll need to wear a hat from now on.

Wait! Maybe it’s because the clapper was still clapping when the writer checked? Maybe the notification came with the first clap, but the number of claps was still increasing? Yes! That must be it. The writer runs back to their desk, putting back their hair in place, and hits refresh again.

Nothing changed.

Must be the browser. “Refresh didn’t cut it. I should restart the browser,” thinks the writer. And so they do. But to no avail. “AH! I know, it’s the cookies,” murmurs the writer. “I need to empty the cache and restart the computer; that will work.” And so they do. And wait twelve minutes because they have an old computer that takes time to shut down. And even more to start. Then they launch the browser, sign in, and check again.

Still one clap.

The writer thinks of calling their sister-in-law’s cousin — he works in IT. But the writer remembers they called the guy three times last week already, and he sounded a bit tired during the last call that ended so abruptly. Maybe better not to.

What to do?

If it’s not a bug then something must have happened to the one-clapper. Maybe they had a stroke and are lying in their bed — or in their jacuzzi, paralyzed and worried because they cannot clap the 50 times they wanted to clap. Or the 99 times if they found the secret bug in the interface that enables more than 50 claps.

What to do??? The writer checks the one-clapper profile. Maybe there are some contact details there that would enable them to call 911 or whatever the number they have in other countries that aren’t the U.S. of A.

But no.

There are no contact details. Actually, there’s nothing there. No description. No link to a Twitter account. Just a profile picture of a silhouette in the dark that looks like a ninja.

And during all this time, the ninja one-clapper was laughing to tears in their bed, or in their jacuzzi, thinking of the poor writer they had turned into a mad person with only one clap.

The one-clappers see themselves as buddhas who know the answer to the koan “what is the sound of one hand clapping?” They know it’s a cry of rage mixed with despair from a writer somewhere.

Post Scriptum

And now, where should I one-clap next?

Evil laugh, from my jacuzzi.

The End.

With thanks to Reuben Salsa for the inspiration with this tweet.

Smillew is a Medium writer that writes mainly about Medium, his Medium newsletter, and his Medium referral link. No need to follow him, he’ll show up in your feed.