Writing is the New Participation Trophy
A Cultural Commentary
Writing has never been looked upon as a real job by the masses. And sometimes, not even a realistic side hustle. Our friends query. Our parents lament. Our kids interrupt.
How do you pay your bills? What do you do all day, write? Like, you literally sit at the computer and write all day? I bet you just watch Netflix. What’s so hard about writing? I can just create a Medium account, too, right?
Um, yeah — right.
I have something to tell you and it might make you upset, but even if it does, it doesn’t mean it’s not true.
Writing is the new participation trophy.
It was already getting pretty shiny, writing that is, with the advent of Medium and other sites that allow regular Joes and Helens like us to just open an account and start “writing”. But then there was the pandemic. And everyone was forced to stay home. And now, everyone is a writer.
And since everyone is a writer, that also means everyone is a critic. Of everything.
The new “writers” are emblazoned with a level of entitlement rarely seen outside of the picket-fenced privilege community. And that’s why writing is the new participation trophy. Technically, anyone can do it. And we now know that virtually anyone can at least be modestly rewarded for it by piecing together a Frankenstein-like concoction of clickbait, listicle, and trending topic(al analgesic).
Just take a browse through the deluge of I Made $63.12 My First Month on Medium and You Can Too type of posts. Look at publications that have their writers write about the publication over and over. Look at all of the Medium workshops there are. And what about all of the Facebook groups allegedly designed to lift up writers when all they really become are self-promotion tools and whine fests.
Just because you can participate as a writer does not mean you’ve earned some type of medal. If we don’t have a novel (one published by an actual publishing house) or a syndicated column or steady work writing, we are all in the same boat. You. Me. Joe. Helen. There is no trophy.
The participation trophy is so hyped right now that “writers” are losing their minds if you don’t accept everything they do, everything they write, and everyone, everywhere, all the time.
Exhibit 1 (below): after I added a clause to my publications letting new writers know that if they publish in a certain publication, they can’t publish in my publications. Let me repeat that. My publications. The ones that I run, for free, with no help, and that I create the requirements for. They are telling me that I am not allowed to curate or restrict access to those I find are writing for the trophy and not for the love.

Ok, let me get this straight. I make a submission requirement in my own publication on the Internet of which I do all the work for and have total control of. I am a bully and I am controlling others who I never knew existed before this note. Ok.
On the other hand, telling me, “If I catch you trying to be a bully. You will be in for a shock. Promise you.” is definitely not aggressive or controlling at all. This all stems from the entitlement of the modern Internet Writer and the perceived trophies they have received online.
A Top Writer badge only fuels the fire. An alleged following is only gasoline on this flaming dump truck in a parking lot in a nondescript city during a pandemic.
Is this a product of the shut-in we’ve experienced during the last four months or is this just how writing is seen now that it can be made so readily available after a simple click on the Internet? I mean, is everyone a writer?
“A participation trophy is a trophy given to children who participate in a sporting event but do not finish in first, second or third place, and so would not normally be eligible for a trophy.
Their use has caused controversy: critics argue that they promote narcissism and entitlement among children to whom they are given, and are based on incorrect assumptions regarding supposed psychological benefits of self-esteem.”
— Wikipedia
Tell me that writing isn’t a participation trophy, in and of itself right now. Everyone is a writer now so how can our words hold any value? And when we try to enact standards to upgrade the writing, lids are lost and fragile egos are capsized by the waves of curatorial integrity.
Internet Writer holds the trophy over their head as if they’ve won an Oscar and exclaims to their following how they are simultaneously crushing it and aggrieved day after day. An insipid cycle of delusions of grandeur and self-throttling that would make even an astronaut dizzy. And it’s all because the act of writing now makes everyone a writer. This is the trophy they hold.
It’s not for me to say who is a writer and who is a “writer”, but the ones wearing their badges like medals of honor and addressing their following like the Pied Piper are seemingly more likely to fall into the “writer” category. Even though I’m sure someone will want to argue that point and also drop private notes that are very scary.
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe everyone is a writer now. Maybe witty barbs on Twitter are akin to a novel and I am just confused and acting like a boomer. Maybe sending the same letter every day, but swapping out the links, but not making it a letter and putting it behind the paywall, where you tag 100 people and get clapped for it (and paid), is the new normal and extremely writerly.
But if that is the case then it’s even more reason for me to batten down the hatches on my tiny corner of the Internet. The problem with participation trophies is that they are just as shiny as the trophies that you get when you actually win.
Except none of us are winning. That’s why we are on Medium and not sitting behind a hand-carved oak desk in our libraries, in our second home in Barbados, book deal in hand, speaking engagements all being ignored, and stoic as the breeze.
Put your trophy down. You didn’t earn anything just because you can press publish. Neither did I.
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