A few days back, the author of the Petite Anglaise blog, whose kiss'n'tell record of expat life in Paris became a lucrative book deal, confessed that sharing every aspect of her personal life online, with little regard for the feelings or rights of others, has turned sour. She's quitting: blogging's a path strewn with landmines, she says, and now that she's turned the page, it feels good.

Reading about her decision led me to ponder, again, the ethics of blogging. I don't much go for the warts'n'all approach. But even so, the blogging game is one that nurtures certain habits which, how can I put it, may or may not make for human flourishing. It's good as a writerly discipline and it connects with others; but then there's the obsession, the egoism and, as those involved with Cif will know, the flaming. Like much of what happens on the internet, it's not that blogging conjures up anything that's new to human nature. But it does tend to intensify the virtues and vices that exist already. Therein lies the Faustian element.

So I suspect some rules, written or implicit, are of value. The evangelical alliance has ten blogging commandments. Yahoo! has these guidelines. Individual bloggers develop personal approaches, like this code of amiability.

For myself, I guess the basic ideal comes from decent journalism, which can be summed up in the word accuracy. Criticism is implicit in much blogging, though I try not to exclude conciliation in the process. I don't blog or comment anonymously, which is partly because I want my byline to be visible, but also because I think it encourages responsibility in the exercise of the right of self-expression. Ad hominem attacks are a sin. And then, not unlike Petite Anglaise has done, I ask myself whether, overall, it feels good.

Other tips?