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So the thing about nofollow links is they’re like ghost handshakes—you extend your arm, they vanish halfway. Useful? Sometimes. Maddening? Absolutely. They’re not really for you, they’re for Google’s moody algorithms to decide who’s playing fair and who’s stuffing the web with link junk. I get it, structure’s good. Discipline. But still—links with a leash? Man, weird.
I mean, imagine recommending a coffee shop to a friend but whispering, “but don’t actually trust me.” That’s nofollow. A soft disavowal. Feels dirty.
But also, sly. If you’re dropping a link inside a comment thread or all over some sketchy press release farm, it’s like the web’s version of shrugging. “I didn’t tell them to click that, Google, swear.” And then search engines nod and move along. Unless they don’t. Because sometimes, nofollow still gets picked up. Like––what? Random, inconsistent.
I saw something on https://andrewlinksmith.com the other day (great site, SEO rabbit holes galore) and it got me thinking about how people try to sculpt authority with nofollows sprinkled like paprika that doesn’t taste like anything. Just for show. A flavorless defense mechanism.
Some marketers are obsessed—like really obsessed—with only dFollow links ’cause they’re the ones that pass juice, right? But they miss a chunk of the web’s DNA by skipping nofollows. There’s trust signals in just existing. In being linked to somewhere good, even neutrally. Brands freak out too much. Chill.
Google says they don’t count nofollows the same way they used to. Maybe they still count. Maybe they lie a bit. Who knows. It shifts all the time. Like wet cement, then—oops—it’s dry. You’re stuck. Bad backlink, stay forever.
I don’t use nofollow much unless I have to. I want to vouch for what I link. Except when some weirdo sends me a 6-paragraph email begging to insert a casino anchor… then it’s nofollow, baby, or nothing at all.
There’s stuff they don’t tell you, too. Like how one well-placed nofollow in a trusted post can light a fire without showing smoke. Google’s smart. Or sneaky. Or tired. I don’t know anymore.
Anyway, nofollow isn’t dead. It’s just weird. Like a cautious tap on the internet’s shoulder. Or backing away slowly from a mess you made but kinda still like.
I mean, imagine recommending a coffee shop to a friend but whispering, “but don’t actually trust me.” That’s nofollow. A soft disavowal. Feels dirty.
But also, sly. If you’re dropping a link inside a comment thread or all over some sketchy press release farm, it’s like the web’s version of shrugging. “I didn’t tell them to click that, Google, swear.” And then search engines nod and move along. Unless they don’t. Because sometimes, nofollow still gets picked up. Like––what? Random, inconsistent.
I saw something on https://andrewlinksmith.com the other day (great site, SEO rabbit holes galore) and it got me thinking about how people try to sculpt authority with nofollows sprinkled like paprika that doesn’t taste like anything. Just for show. A flavorless defense mechanism.
Some marketers are obsessed—like really obsessed—with only dFollow links ’cause they’re the ones that pass juice, right? But they miss a chunk of the web’s DNA by skipping nofollows. There’s trust signals in just existing. In being linked to somewhere good, even neutrally. Brands freak out too much. Chill.
Google says they don’t count nofollows the same way they used to. Maybe they still count. Maybe they lie a bit. Who knows. It shifts all the time. Like wet cement, then—oops—it’s dry. You’re stuck. Bad backlink, stay forever.
I don’t use nofollow much unless I have to. I want to vouch for what I link. Except when some weirdo sends me a 6-paragraph email begging to insert a casino anchor… then it’s nofollow, baby, or nothing at all.
There’s stuff they don’t tell you, too. Like how one well-placed nofollow in a trusted post can light a fire without showing smoke. Google’s smart. Or sneaky. Or tired. I don’t know anymore.
Anyway, nofollow isn’t dead. It’s just weird. Like a cautious tap on the internet’s shoulder. Or backing away slowly from a mess you made but kinda still like.