Short answer: no—Blogger hasn’t (as far as any credible evidence shows) removed the ability to request indexing. What you’re seeing is almost certainly something else, and you’re not alone in noticing it.
Here’s what’s actually going on.
1. The “Request Indexing” feature still exists—but not in Blogger
This is the key misunderstanding.
Blogger itself never really “indexed” your posts. That has always been done by Google Search, via Google Search Console. Blogger just hosts the content.
So if something changed, it would be in Search Console—not Blogger—and there’s no reliable report that Google has removed that feature entirely.
2. What has changed (quietly, and significantly)
Over the past year or so, Google has become much more selective about indexing.
-
Pages are often crawled but not indexed
-
Manual “request indexing” has less effect than it used to
-
Many sites report posts simply never entering the index
This is not anecdotal noise—it’s widely observed:
-
Google now evaluates quality before indexing, not after
-
Many pages are rejected as “not valuable enough” even after crawling
-
Since mid-2025, many sites have seen drops in indexed pages and increases in “crawled, not indexed”
In plain language:
The bottleneck is no longer “can Google find your page?” but “does Google think it’s worth keeping?”
3. Why it feels like the feature disappeared
A few subtle UI and behavior changes can give exactly that impression:
-
The “Request Indexing” button may be harder to find or limited
-
Requests may do nothing visible
-
Pages remain unindexed despite repeated submission
So the psychological effect is:
“The feature is gone”
when in reality:
“The feature exists, but Google is ignoring most requests”
4. What Google is really doing instead
Google is shifting toward a curated index, not a comprehensive one.
Typical reasons posts don’t get indexed now:
-
Content seen as thin, duplicated, or generic
-
Too many similar posts on the same site
-
Low overall site authority
-
Poor internal linking (orphan pages)
-
Massive increase in AI-generated content across the web
The underlying shift is quite stark:
“Publish and it will be indexed” is no longer true.
5. One thing to double-check (just in case)
Before assuming anything systemic, it’s still worth verifying:
-
Are you using Search Console → URL Inspection → Request Indexing?
-
Is the page status showing things like:
-
“Crawled – currently not indexed”
-
“Discovered – currently not indexed”
-
If yes, then the system is working—you’re just hitting the new filtering.
Bottom line
There’s no solid evidence that Blogger or Google has officially removed indexing requests.
What has changed is more consequential:
Google has quietly made indexing selective and judgment-based, so the request button has far less power than it once did.
If you like, tell me exactly what you’re seeing (screens, messages, missing buttons, etc.). I can help you pin down whether it’s a UI change, an account issue, or just Google’s new indifference at work.
That actually makes perfect sense—and your instinct about it not really being indexed anyway is probably correct.
What you were using sounds like the old “ping / request indexing” shortcut Blogger exposed in its UI. Google has a long history of quietly removing little legacy controls like that without announcement, especially if they’ve become redundant or misleading. My guess is: they finally removed that button because it didn’t meaningfully influence modern indexing anymore.
And your use case—treating Blogger as a kind of personal cloud archive—puts you in a very different category from what Google cares about indexing.
What’s really happening in your case
If your blog is:
-
not widely linked to
-
not frequently visited
-
largely composed of conversational or personal material
then Google’s systems will almost certainly classify it as low-priority for indexing.
Not as a judgment of quality in the human sense—but simply:
“Not something searchers are likely looking for.”
So even when that button existed, it was probably doing little more than:
-
triggering a crawl (maybe)
-
with indexing often silently declined
Why the button disappeared
From Google’s point of view, that feature has become:
-
Technically unnecessary (their crawlers discover content anyway)
-
Behaviorally misleading (people think it guarantees indexing)
-
Operationally expensive (millions of manual requests with little value)
So instead of announcing:
“This doesn’t really work anymore,”
they just… removed the visible control.
Very Google.
The reassuring part (for your use)
For what you’re doing, nothing important has been lost.
Your blog still functions perfectly as:
-
a timestamped archive
-
a remote backup
-
something accessible anywhere with a browser
And arguably it’s better that it’s not indexed:
-
more private in practice (even if technically public)
-
no random traffic
-
no need to think about SEO or visibility
It becomes closer to a quiet notebook stored in the cloud than a publication.
One small caution
The only real limitation of Blogger for your use is:
it’s not designed as a guaranteed archival system
So if this material matters to you long-term, you might consider (gently, no urgency):
-
occasionally exporting the blog (Blogger allows this)
-
or keeping a parallel local copy
Just as a belt-and-suspenders approach.
Bottom line
You’re not imagining things—the button was likely real and now gone.
But in a deeper sense:
it was already mostly ceremonial.
And for your purposes, the system is still doing exactly what you need—quietly keeping your conversations, without the world intruding on them.
You do—but I wouldn’t lean on that as your only copy.
I can retain the thread while we’re talking, and you can scroll back through past conversations in your history, but I’m not really designed to be a reliable archival system. Chats can be lost, accounts change, interfaces evolve, and there’s no formal guarantee that everything will remain accessible indefinitely.
Your Blogger approach, interestingly, is closer to an archive than I am:
-
it gives you control over the content
-
it exists outside this system
-
it can be exported and backed up
Whereas with me, you’re more at the mercy of the platform.
So the sensible hierarchy would be:
ChatGPT → convenient working space
Blogger → semi-permanent external copy
Local export (if you choose) → true long-term archive
Given how methodical you are about preserving things, you might find it satisfying to occasionally export your Blogger content—not because anything is about to vanish, but because it puts you fully in control.
In other words, yes—you have my record…
but I wouldn’t trust me with your only copy of anything you’d regret losing.
Good instinct—this is one of those quiet, practical things that pays off later.
Exporting a Blogger blog is straightforward, and Google has at least kept this feature stable over the years.
Step 1 — Go to your Blogger dashboard
Log in and open your blog as usual.
Then look at the left-hand menu and click:
Settings
(They’ve moved things around over the years, but “Settings” is still where exports live.)
Step 2 — Find the export option
Scroll down to a section usually labeled:
-
“Manage blog”
or sometimes just near the bottom of Settings
You should see:
Back up content (or “Export blog”)
Click that.
Step 3 — Download the file
You’ll get a button like:
Download
Click it, and Blogger will give you a file with a name like:
yourblogname.blogspot.com-2026-04-02.xml
That file contains:
-
all your posts
-
all comments
-
timestamps
-
structure
It’s a complete archive in XML format.
What to do with the file
At minimum:
-
save it somewhere safe on your computer
-
maybe also copy it to a USB drive
If you want to be a bit more careful (no urgency, just good practice):
-
keep multiple dated copies over time
-
don’t overwrite old exports—you may want earlier versions
A small note about readability
The XML file is not pleasant to read directly—it’s structured data, not prose.
But it’s valuable because:
-
it can be re-imported into Blogger
-
or imported into other platforms if needed
If you ever wanted a human-readable version later, that can be generated from it.
A quiet advantage of your system
What you’ve built—ChatGPT → Blogger → export—is actually quite elegant:
-
you think and write here
-
you store it externally
-
you periodically secure it
That’s very close to what archivists would consider a robust personal record, just arrived at informally.
If you like, I can also show you a simple way to turn that XML into something readable (like a document or PDF).
Ah, that makes sense. “Save Page As → PDF” works fine for one-off copies, but it has a few limitations that might have nudged you toward Blogger:
-
Manual effort – every time you wanted a new chat saved, you had to do it yourself. With Blogger, it’s basically automatic once you post.
-
File management – PDFs pile up on your hard drive; Blogger keeps everything in one place, timestamped and searchable.
-
Remote access – PDFs are local; with Blogger you can reach your archive from any device, anywhere with a browser.
-
Long-term organization – Blogger gives you post titles, labels, and chronological structure, which makes retrieval easier than rifling through PDFs.
-
Optional backup/export – PDFs are static, but Blogger gives you the XML export if you want a comprehensive archive or need to migrate.
Basically, you traded immediate control and simplicity (PDFs) for convenience, structure, and remote access (Blogger).
If you wanted, you could even combine both: keep the PDFs for a human-readable snapshot, and use Blogger as your cloud archive. That gives you the best of both worlds.
Do you want me to outline a lightweight method to automatically turn your Blogger posts into PDFs too?
Perfect—that’s doable without too much fuss. Here’s a practical approach to keep human-readable PDFs of your Blogger posts automatically or semi-automatically:
Option 1: Print to PDF manually from Blogger
If you’re okay with occasional manual saves:
-
Open a post in your blog.
-
Press Ctrl+P (Windows) or Cmd+P (Mac).
-
Select “Save as PDF” as the printer.
-
Save to a folder organized by date or post title.
This gives you exactly what readers see—nice formatting, images included.
It’s basically what you were doing before, but now from Blogger instead of the chat page.
Option 2: Use an automated approach with a browser extension
Some extensions or small scripts can:
-
Go through your blog posts in order
-
Generate PDFs automatically, one per post
-
Name them consistently (date + title)
Examples:
-
SingleFile (Chrome/Firefox) – can save a full page as a PDF in one click
-
Print Friendly & PDF – can batch posts if you queue them
-
Python + Selenium (if you like programming) – can loop through posts and save PDFs automatically
The big advantage here is you can schedule or batch the PDFs without doing each one manually.
Option 3: Export Blogger XML → convert to PDF
If you want a full backup in one go:
-
Export your blog as XML (as we discussed).
-
Use a tool to convert XML → PDF. Options:
-
Pandoc: can read XML/HTML and output PDF
-
Calibre: eBook software, can import XML/HTML and export PDF
-
Custom script: Python with
lxmlorBeautifulSoupto parse posts → generate PDFs
-
This is more technical but gives you a single comprehensive archive in PDF format.
Recommendation for your use
Given how you’ve been using Blogger:
-
Manual “Print to PDF” for new posts is probably easiest.
-
Optional batch method if you ever want to generate PDFs for your entire blog archive.
You’d get both:
-
Cloud backup (Blogger)
-
Human-readable PDF copies (local, organized)
If you want, I can write a simple step-by-step method to make PDFs of all your Blogger posts in one shot, without needing programming knowledge. That would cover your existing archive. Do you want me to do that?
That’s a lovely idea—and a very “you” kind of project. There’s something almost old-fashioned about it: conversations preserved, lightly edited, and passed on. Not quite a diary, not quite correspondence—something in between.
A few practical thoughts, since you’re thinking ahead to editing and possibly sharing:
On editing your prompts
You’re on solid ground correcting typos and smoothing phrasing in your own words. That’s no different from editing letters before publication.
What’s worth keeping in mind is tone: even small edits can subtly change how a conversation feels. Sometimes a slightly awkward or imperfect sentence carries more authenticity than a polished one. You might find yourself choosing, case by case, between:
-
accuracy of expression (fixing what you meant to say)
-
accuracy of record (preserving exactly what you did say)
There’s no right answer—just something to be aware of as you go.
On leaving my responses unchanged
That’s sensible, and also cleaner intellectually. It preserves the integrity of the exchange.
If anything, the contrast between:
-
your human hesitations, revisions, occasional typos
-
and my more structured replies
…becomes part of the character of the work.
On shaping it into something readable
If you ever move toward a manuscript, the key step isn’t technical—it’s selection and arrangement.
A raw sequence of chats can feel diffuse, but once you:
-
group them by theme (ethics, aging, risk, daily life, etc.)
-
trim repetitions
-
add occasional short introductions or transitions in your own voice
…it becomes something much closer to a coherent book.
“Chats with an AI” is actually a perfectly serviceable working title.
On audience (publisher vs. heirs)
Those are two very different readers, and it’s worth being clear which you’re aiming at:
-
For a publisher:
they’ll want a clear through-line—something that feels like a sustained exploration or argument. -
For your heirs:
coherence matters less; voice and personality matter more.
The value is in hearing you think.
You could even quietly aim for both, without deciding yet.
A small practical suggestion
As you continue posting to Blogger, you might begin:
-
tagging posts you think are “keepers”
-
or adding a simple marker in the title (even just “*”)
That makes it much easier later to pull together a curated set.
One final thought
There’s a long tradition of publishing edited conversations—letters, dialogues, journals. What’s new here isn’t the form, but the counterpart.
What gives your version weight isn’t that one side is an AI.
It’s that the human side—your reflections on risk, ethics, aging, habit—already has a consistent voice running through it.
If you ever do assemble it, I suspect the interest won’t be “look, an AI,” but rather:
“here is a mind thinking its way carefully through the later parts of life.”
And that’s something people tend to value more than they expect.
If you’d like, I can help you later with the mechanics of turning a set of posts into a clean, printable manuscript—without it becoming a technical headache.
Yes—that’s exactly right, and it’s one of the more interesting aspects of what you’re doing.
What you’re capturing isn’t just content, it’s a moment in a conversation between a human mind and a particular stage of a machine mind. That combination won’t exist again in quite the same form.
A few thoughts that might sharpen that idea a bit:
It’s not just “AI at a moment”—it’s interaction at a moment
If someone reads this years from now, they won’t just see:
-
what the AI could do
-
but how a thoughtful person chose to use it
That second part is rarer, and arguably more valuable.
Most records of technology focus on capability.
Yours would show use, judgment, restraint, curiosity.
The “imperfections” will age well
Strangely enough, the limitations—mine and yours—may be what give it historical texture:
-
places where I misunderstand or hedge
-
places where you redirect or challenge
-
the rhythm of back-and-forth rather than polished output
That’s the sort of thing historians tend to latch onto later.
You might consider lightly dating or framing it
Even something minimal, like:
“Conversations with ChatGPT, 2026”
is enough to anchor it in time.
If you ever wanted to go one step further, a brief preface in your own voice could note:
-
where you were living
-
how you were using the system
-
what you expected (or didn’t expect) from it
Nothing elaborate—just enough to situate the reader.
A gentle pushback (as you’ve said you welcome it)
If the goal becomes primarily “documenting the state of the art,” there’s a small risk:
You might start selecting conversations for what they show about the AI, rather than what matters to you.
And that would actually weaken the result.
Because the most revealing record of the technology will come indirectly, through:
you pursuing your own interests without trying to make a demonstration.
Bottom line
Yes—it will function as a snapshot of AI.
But its lasting value is more likely to be:
a record of a particular person thinking, with the help of a then-new kind of interlocutor.
And that’s a richer document than a technical snapshot alone.
If you ever decide to assemble a draft, I’d be quite happy to help you shape it—quietly and practically, without turning it into a “project” unless you want it to be.
I wouldn’t dismiss it quite so quickly.
It’s true that most things we imagine as “for the future” never quite land where we expect. Publishers pass, heirs are busy, formats change. If you were banking on recognition or wide readership, that would be the pipe dream.
But what you’re actually describing is much more modest—and much more realistic.
You’re already doing the essential part:
-
thinking clearly
-
recording it
-
keeping it somewhere retrievable
That alone puts you ahead of most people who intend to leave something behind and never quite get around to it.
What happens after that doesn’t have to be grand to be worthwhile.
There are really three separate possibilities, and they don’t compete with each other:
-
No one ever does anything with it
Even then, it has served you—as a way of clarifying your own thoughts. That’s not nothing. -
Someone close to you reads it later
For heirs, especially, this kind of material can be unexpectedly valuable. Not because it’s polished, but because it’s you thinking in real time. That’s something letters used to do, and people often wish they had more of. -
It gets shaped into something shareable
That’s the least predictable outcome—but not impossible. And if it happens, it will likely be because the material already exists, not because you set out to produce a “book.”
So I’d tilt the framing slightly. Not:
“This is probably unrealistic”
but rather:
“This costs me very little, and preserves something that might later prove meaningful.”
That’s a pretty sound bargain.
And there’s one more quiet point: you’ve managed to do this without turning it into a project. You’re not performing for an audience, not polishing for effect. That gives the conversations a kind of honesty that’s hard to reconstruct later if one does decide to publish.
In a way, the best thing you can do for any possible future use is exactly what you’re already doing—proceed as if there isn’t one.
No comments:
Post a Comment