McNair gives us some reasons to speak, even if no one listens to us. But I could add something else to what he said: we should write, even when no one reads; draw, even if nobody cares about what we have drawn; compose, even when nobody wants to listen to the song composed. When I started my career as a furry artist, I had a truth in mind: even if no one pays attention now, someone, someday, will see my scribbles and will like it. Aesthetic taste is subjective: nothing in art is so ugly, so badly drawn, to the point where nobody will ever like it. So, although I was aware that my art was terrible and that the themes I drew were disgusting for most people, I knew someone, somewhere, would find my drawings and would like them, despite everything.
I was right. I started to gain favorites, people started following me and I met several friends through art, good friends, some who have been with me for over a decade. In addition, if I had stopped drawing, I would not have improved my technique, as no skills improve without practice. The same can be said of stories, dissertation texts, programs, music. Even if no one likes it at the moment, it doesn’t guarantee that they won’t like it in the future. The history of art, both aesthetic art and technical art, has several examples of things that were not liked when they came out, but became interesting after a while. Moreover, even if no one ever likes, it’s still a learning experience, a form of practicing your skill.
Therefore, besides speaking what no one, at the moment, wants to listen, we must produce what no one, at the moment, appreciates: someone will appreciate eventually, it is still a learning experience and opportunity to improve.