Every other day I read another friend’s dramatic post about how they are leaving a social platform.
The reason I started a Substack (over two and half years ago now) was to try to create something with more meaning than posting a photo or video which usually took a just few minutes to create. I take even less time consuming it. I craved more depth and was increasingly aware (as most of us are) of the collective dwindling of human attention spans. Making quick, disappearing posts suck my soul and feed my voracious vanity. If I want to be self indulgent, let me do it with dignity, damnit!
A story called You’re Being Alienated From Your Own Attention by Chris Hayes in The Atlantic discusses attention as currency and how it’s harder than ever to capture it. People are willing to pay lots of money to try to get it. Elon Musk is a great example; a man richer than most of us could ever dream bought Twitter, Hayes argues, to make people pay more attention to him.
(Musk says he bought Twitter for other reasons, but given his frequency of Tweets and millions of followers, it’s fair to say he doesn’t mind the attention.)
I want to be a writer, but just as importantly, I want to be read. Legacy media throws me occasional gigs but its future is uncertain and there is so much competition. I found Substack was a new way to explore. It was a practice my old creative writing professors would approve of, and it increased my discipline. I don’t plan to ask for money for these ramblings, but I do want POWER, lol. And by that I mean I value the handful of people (I have more than 400 now) who have welcomed me into their inboxes. Roughly 40% of you read me each week. Thank you!
When I started my Substack I planned to write for an hour a week, but I quickly learned that I needed at least two hours to try to make something coherent. (Honestly, it’s three to four.) Honestly each one can always be better, but I’d just never finish. I note it’s after 1am now as I wrap this up. The iron law of Substacking is, as soon as you hit send, you find a typo. It’s not perfect, but my one-hour-per-week side project has become a new therapist/friend. The weekly hours of discipline mean I have abandoned other pursuits and pleasures. I am less available than I used to be. I’m lucky that I have so few responsibilities in my life that I can continue to experiment with this. To have time to create things for your own weird brain and couple hundred readers is a true luxury, boys and girls.
<I’ll just quickly disagree with myself above by also saying taking time each week to express ourselves is a human instinct. Make the thing! Sing the song! Build the damn sandcastle!>
Another reason I joined Substack was because I was worried about censorship and getting cancelled. What I might be cancelled for, I’m not completely sure, but given my inquisitive nature and my distaste for rules and bureaucracy, me writing freely seemed like a great invitation for cancellation. Maybe it could still happen. It’s a risky thing to write what’s on your mind.
While I can (and do) lose subscribers, the platform itself is particularly valued for not shutting down the most unsubscribeable voices.
”I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.” - Voltaire, abbreviated.
I bet Substack has five million antivaxxers writing on here (some with valid concerns about big pharma). Plenty of writers are here with sinister voices, but Substack has a firm ethos to their platform. Or at least they did in 2020 when the founders wrote:
We believe that subscriptions are better than advertising.
We believe in letting people choose who to trust, not having click-maximizing algorithms choose for them.
We believe that the prevailing media ecosystem is in disrepair and that the internet can be used to build something better.
We believe that hosting a broad range of views is good for democracy.
We believe in the free press and in free speech – and we do not believe those things can be decoupled.
These beliefs inform how we have designed Substack, which is why, for instance, we don’t support advertising in the product despite many calls to do so, and it’s why we will never use algorithms that optimize for engagement. However, we believe that our design of the product and the incentive structure we have built into it are the ultimate expression of our views. We do not seek to impose our views in the form of censorship or through appointing ourselves as the judges of truth or morality.
I dream of writing freely, publicly, but I still write with caution on Substack. I write with caution, period.
“The only way you can write the truth is to assume that what you set down will never be read,” Margaret Atwood wrote. She is also on Substack.
Mike Tyson, who has created a (somewhat notorious) legacy for himself, doesn’t believe we have legacies. I think of him tonight. I’ve written previously about how I dwell on my own legacy and who exactly I’m writing this Substack for? Would I continue to write if I had no readers? Would I be more honest and a better writer if I wasn’t self-censoring despite my previous praises for free speech?
American poet Emily Dickinson’s words weren’t even read by many until after her death, but she clearly found joy in the process. I know that part of me isn’t doing this just for myself; I have private journals for that. Oh no, my desire to create is connected to that desire to be seen, to be heard, to be listened to. I have Elon Musk inklings within. I bet we all do.
If you’re one of those folks considering leaving socials for a more meaningful place, know that Substack isn’t just for writers, it’s for creators, speakers and makers of all kinds. You can share videos, audio and visuals here. You can livestream and lots of other things. Also if the current founders ever sell Substack you can always download your subscribers’ email addresses and leave for greener creator pastures.
(If Substack did have a biased algorithm, it would totally push this post up!)
!!! this resonates so much
Worth it, as ever. I guess substackers are like ocean swimmers, they only need one rule: keep going.