Why I Regret Going Paid On Substack

I’ve been on Substack for almost 8 months now.

It’s been good in terms of the many great individuals that populate its space. So much variety and intelligence and humour and depth.

I joined because someone suggested I should ‘start a Substack,’ whatever that meant.

So I did.

Turning on payments seemed like the logical thing to do after a while.

I took my cues from my environment and those I respected.

And for a while I justified my work by its monetary value i.e. being brought up in a capitalist state, I’d always been very well compensated, and therefore to me, money made it make sense - the time I put in initially.

So I tried to encourage paid subscribers - after all, they are why most of us write, right?

But I also disliked it too.

I disliked that people who subscribed were often those who were most generous, giving.

I read every message and note in gratitude, but if I saw someone say “I don’t have that much money but I want to support you,” my heart folded temporarily.

“No”, I think. “You don’t need to. Not like this. Not at your expense.”

Besides that, of course it feels good - it’s a form of validation.

Of acknowledgement.

That my writing and time I used to put into it had some worth

But over time, even that dissipated.

I’m grateful for those who choose to subscribe, I truly am - but I don’t want to market.

Substack has its own algorithms.

But I don’t want to think about the numbers or choose topics that will generate interest.

I like money probably as much as the next person - but not at the expense of something that feels like a contrived marketplace.

Where each sells their wares and says “come to my store! Subscribe to me! Choose my shop to buy from.”

And so some part of me tires of it - even though I genuinely adore my subscribers. And there are so many writers here who I respect to the ends of the earth; the talent here is limitless. But as a concept it feels like an Airbnb.

It’s always been good, honest, decent people that drove everything I did.

Rightly or wrongly, clumsily or passionately, passionately or falteringly, it was only the best of humanity that made me work.

Ironically, I’m not anti-capitalism but it also seems that I am on one level. A paradox.

Everything here on Substack feels like a capitalist market in play.

Nazis in one corner, fake Maori profiles, lefties elsewhere. There’s bigger players and small all vying for an eyeball.

There’s kind writers like “God”, and there’s all sorts down from there. Many wonderful deep thinkers.

Once you get into the system, you’re another cog, trying to get subscribers, subject to the whims of a technology and corporate, another place that encourages you to count your $ and c.

And affirm yourself through its success - which of course profits for it.

Think before you buy. Consider before you buy in.