A recent tweet led me to a blog post in which the author said that if he spots a zero in the comment counter, he clicks it away without reading. He equates a lack of response with low quality.
I rarely find time to comment on blogs, but as an ironic consequence of that fellow's one post, I took the time to comment today. My own assumptions are almost entirely the opposite.
As a longtime web denizen, for me it is about the quality of the content, not the number of comments.
I do not agree quantity predicts quality, certainly not so much I will click away as soon as I see a zero. What keeps me reading after a click is finding some relevant well-written meat on the bones of a well-written headline. I don't even look at the comments unless you have already grabbed me long enough to read the rest of it.
In short, my cart preceeds that other guy's horse.
Those two clapping hands might only be your mother
Over the years I have seen scores of high quality authors languish simply because they were not so good at self-marketing. I have also seen too many pieces of fluff over-hyped to put much faith in "buzz" by itself.
For all I know, the folks chatting up on any one post are virtual cousins, or literal kith and kin. Or they might all be members of some affiliate network who applaud each other routinely.
At best, a high comment count says to me that a writer is good at attracting interest or has a big circle of fans. But I do not assume instantly that all such connections are quality-driven.
I rely on Twitter for filtering timely leads to smart voices of substance. If shared by a source I know to be savvy, the link has been pre-vetted. Whether or not I'll like it is a whole other thing, driven solely by personal relevance.
To keep me reading, you have a max of three (short) paras to engage my interest,and if not, then it's hasta la bye bye. But like it or not, either way, the comment count was irrelevant.
This isn't me being curmudgeonly about the value of relationships; it is my way of sticking one finger into the firehose aimed at my brain.