There is a "News" item in the menu. Under it are three posts. The newest one says you have moved to new premises, and it is dated three years ago.
You know how that happened. Whoever built the site said a website needs a news section, you wrote three pieces around the launch, and then work arrived. The move was the last thing that was easy to write about. Since then the site has worked and nobody has looked in there, because there was no reason to.
The visitor knows none of this. They came to check your opening hours or one of your services, landed on news from the menu, and read the date before the headline. And the date asked them a question the page does not answer.
The date gets read before the headline
Almost nobody reads the news item itself. Everybody sees the date, because it does not have to be read, only glanced at.
And here is the part most owners get the wrong way round. The date does not tell a reader when you wrote the item. It tells them when you last looked at your own site. A date three years old means, to a reader, that nobody has been in here for three years, and from that they draw a conclusion about the whole of the rest of the site: the prices, the opening hours and the phone number could all be that old too.
The question the date asks is a simple one: is this company still there, and is it still like this? The page does not answer. Nor does the visitor ring up to ask. They answer it for themselves, and they pick the simplest answer available.
This is not a Google penalty
The worry usually comes from the wrong direction: Google does not punish old content. There is no such penalty, and a three-year-old news item does not pull your site down the results merely for being old.
A date is a signal to a person, not to a machine. And a person often sees it before reaching your site at all: Google frequently shows a page date beside the result. If your item is old, that age stands on the results page, next to your competitors, and the click is decided on it.
An AI assistant works the same way. It reads what is on the page, date included, and the item about moving premises is page content to it rather than history, until somebody deletes it. How an assistant assembles its picture of you is an article of its own.

Every date on the site is a promise
News is only the most visible place. There are more dates on a site than you think, and every one of them promises that somebody is looking.
- The year in the footer. The smallest date on the site and the only one on every page: when that year is long past, every visitor sees it at the bottom of everything.
- The "coming soon" gallery. A promise with no date on it, which is worse: nobody knows when it was made, so it can never expire. It simply stands there.
- A Christmas greeting in March. It says, to the month, when you last looked at your own site.
- A "New" badge on a product you have been selling for years. "New" is a date without a number, and the reader supplies the number themselves.
- A price list marked as valid for a year gone by. It says honestly that these figures no longer hold, and leaves the reader with no figure at all.
- The team page carries no date, and is one anyway: it says who worked here when the site was built. A visitor rings up and asks for somebody who left two years ago.
None of these is a technical fault; the page opens. But each one promises that somebody is looking, and the reader can see that nobody is. What genuinely ages on a site in the technical sense has a story of its own; this one is only about what a visitor sees with their own eyes.
Why the news page died
It did not die because you are lazy. It died because it was built on the strength of the sentence "a website has to have a blog", and that is a habit rather than a reason.
At launch there were three things to say: we are open, here are the premises, here is the team. There was no fourth, and that is not a failing: most small companies do not have something new to say every month, because the work itself does not change every month. And writing is a job of its own, which nobody does in the evening after the real work. Why the words always come last and how to write when you are not a writer are both already on this blog.
A news page is the only page on a site that can never be finished. All the others were done once and are fine until something changes. A news page is only fine while somebody feeds it, and it announces the fact itself, with a date, to every visitor. So it cannot simply exist: either it is alive, or it is arguing against you.
Three choices, and there is no fourth
The decision is smaller than it looks, and all three options are honest. Only the fourth is dishonest: leaving everything as it is.
1. Delete it. Take down the news section and the menu item. Move the two posts that had real substance onto the service pages, where they belong anyway. Put a redirect on the addresses you remove, so that an old link and Google both find the new place; the 301 is explained in the first glossary.
Costs one afternoon. Fixes the most, because it takes the question away: a site with no news promises no news. No blog beats a dead blog every time.
2. Keep it without the dates. Rename the section: "Guides", or "Answers". Read every post and keep only the ones that are true regardless of the year: how to order the service, what to prepare before you arrive. The move announcement and the Christmas greeting go.
Costs a couple of evenings of reading and deleting. Fixes a lot, on one condition: undated is honest only for content that does not need a date. Taking the date off something that is plainly news is not honesty but concealment, and the reader trusts the page less afterwards, not more.
3. Keep the dates and keep the promise. This is the only option that asks something of you next year as well, so be honest with yourself here. One useful piece a quarter is a rhythm a small company can hold: one evening at a time, on a question a customer actually asked this month. Once a month is a promise most people do not keep, and you know which of the two you are.
If you are not sure you will keep it, choose the first or the second. A half-kept third option is exactly the site this article opened with.

A living site without a blog
A sign of life does not have to be a news item. It has to be a date that is true.
- "Last updated" only where it is true. On the price list, if you genuinely went through it, and not on every page automatically: an automatic date says nothing, and the reader can tell.
- Completed work with the year on it. Good for as long as the years are recent, and that pressure is a fair one: if the last job is four years old, the problem is on the work page rather than in the date.
- A footer year that updates itself. One line of code, and one promise fewer to keep. It no longer says anything, but it no longer asks anything either.
- A team page that is current, or anonymous. If you cannot keep the names and faces up to date, write about the team without names: how many people, what they can do. An old name on a page is worse than no name.
A sign of life can also live elsewhere: a recent post on social media says you exist, and the website stays the place where the facts hold still. How that division of labour works is an article of its own.
We sell writing and still say: delete it
We sell content writing, and this article says take the news down. The two go together.
Every piece we write for you gets a date. If nothing follows it, we have sold you a promise you will not keep. That is why we ask before writing which of the two you have: a rhythm you will hold, or pages that need no date. The second is usually the better buy, because a properly written service page does not go stale: it promises nothing beyond what is written on it.
One evening this week
Open your site on a phone, as a stranger would, and go through it from top to bottom with one question: where is there a date? Write every one of them down. News, footer, price list, gallery, team, badges, greetings, "last updated".
Then decide, for each line, one of two things: you keep that promise, or you take the date off. There is no third. A date left on the page with no decision behind it is precisely the one the visitor reads.
A date is a promise that somebody is looking. Make exactly as many promises as you can keep, and not one more. A site that promises no news is not silent. It is simply honest.
Frequently asked questions
No, there is no penalty for old content. A three-year-old news item does not push a site down the results simply for its age. A date works on another level: it is a sign to the person deciding whether to click and whether to ring. Google often shows a page date beside the result as well, so a visitor sees the age of the item while still on the results page, next to your competitors, and makes the decision before opening your site at all. The same holds for an AI assistant, which reads what is on the page, date included.
Pick one of three honest options, because the only dishonest choice is leaving it as it is. First: delete the news section along with the menu item, move any posts with real substance onto the service pages, and redirect the old addresses. That takes an afternoon and removes the question from the visitor. Second: keep the section but without dates and under a new name, such as guides or answers, holding only text that is true in any year. Third: keep the dates and keep the promise with one useful piece a quarter. If you are not sure you will keep it, choose the first or the second.
You can, but only when the content does not need one. A guide to ordering your service, or an answer to a question customers keep asking, is true regardless of the year and can stand undated. An item that is plainly news, such as a move or a seasonal greeting, does not become timeless when you remove its date; it only becomes concealed, and the reader can tell and trusts the page less afterwards. If you do take the dates off, rename the section too, and read every post asking whether it will still be true in three years.
Exactly as often as it can keep to, and no more often. One useful piece a quarter is a rhythm a small company holds: a few evenings a year, on a question a customer actually asked. A monthly promise mostly goes unkept, and an unkept promise shows on the site as a date the visitor reads before the headline. Where there is no rhythm it is better to take the news section down altogether, because no blog beats a dead blog. A site without news promises no news, and so cannot lie about it.
More of them than an owner expects. The year in the footer sits on every page and is therefore seen most often. A coming-soon gallery is a promise with no date, which can never expire and so stands there for ever. A seasonal greeting in the wrong season says, to the month, when the site was last looked at. A "New" badge on a product sold for years is a date without a number. A price list whose validity has passed leaves the reader with no figure at all. And a team page listing somebody who has left is a date as well: it shows who worked there when the site was built.
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