OUR SUBSTACK journey began with a false start. We initially launched our newsletter, only to shelve it almost immediately as we focussed on TIG for the next year. In August 2023, forgetting our earlier attempt, we created Hyperreality – unknowingly competing with our dormant original. When readers discovered our forgotten first newsletter, we faced a decision. Rather than reviving the past, we chose to move forward with Hyperreality. P wrote a handful of articles, published but never emailed, as we quietly reacquainted ourselves with the newsletter world.
By mid-September, I began posting more consistently on Hyperreality while taking a break from TIG. Initially, it was a positive experience. The platform felt genuinely welcoming—a rarity in the online world (except for here, of course). Users frequently commented on its pleasant atmosphere. However, the honeymoon period was short-lived. Substack’s persistent prompts to expand our readership and promote our content to everyone we knew (friends! family!) soon created an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu. The environment gradually shifted, feeling increasingly competitive and reminiscent of other social media platforms.
And then, at the beginning of this month, another user, Emily Sundberg, published an article on Substack critiquing the platform’s current state of writing. She argued that Substack’s monetisation model has led to a decline in content quality, with many newsletters becoming formulaic and indistinguishable as writers prioritise easily digestible, traffic-driven content over originality and depth.
Sundberg quoted Hamish McKenzie, Substack’s co-founder and Chief Writing Officer, who in a 2021 interview with The Bit, stated their goal was “to restore the value of online writing and to trigger a renaissance with lots more writing than any time in history.” Sundberg then pointedly observed, “And man, it sure feels like there is ‘lots more writing than any time in history.'” She noted that the platform has become “a really good way for women to monetise their diary entries,” with lists, random thoughts, and easy-to-write roundups performing well.
Sundberg’s article draws parallels between Substack and Instagram, suggesting that just as Instagram made everyone a “photographer,” Substack is turning everyone into a “writer,” often at the expense of meaningful creativity. However, Sundberg highlights a key difference: the entrepreneurial aspect wasn’t part of Instagram’s original vision, unlike Substack’s model.
While these observations may hold some truth, the article’s biting delivery drew controversy from other Substack users. Critics accused the author of “punching down” and exhibiting “mean girl vibes,” particularly in response to her comment about “former influencers…adding ‘Writer’ to their Instagram bios.” These reactions reflect how some readers felt singled out and hurt by the commentary, highlighting the sensitive nature of critiquing content creation in the digital age.
While we occasionally publish diary entries, lists, random thoughts, and roundups, we don’t take the article’s criticism too seriously. We’ve invested significant time and energy ⎼ sometimes weeks ⎼ creating longform pieces for our newsletter. Given that Substack is our secondary platform, these lighter posts serve as a creative complement to our more comprehensive writing, offering a diverse range of content for our readers.
We maintain a measured relationship with Substack, mindful of Cory Doctorow’s 2023 concept of “enshittification.” This term describes how platforms typically decay over time through a three-stage process: initially, platforms are good to their users; then they exploit users to benefit their business customers; finally, they abuse those business customers to maximise value for themselves. Doctorow adds a fourth stage: eventual demise. This framework informs our approach, allowing us to make the most of Substack’s current offerings while remaining mindful of potential future shifts.
We don’t have the luxury of time to engage with Substack’s Notes, feature (their version of X and Threads), nor can we spare the hours to comment extensively on others’ posts ⎼ two methods purportedly crucial for growth on the platform. In fact, we prefer to dedicate our time to our writing, which has kept us out of any squabbles. However, lately, it seems the atmosphere on Substack is deteriorating rather rapidly.
Substack was founded in 2017 to address the challenges faced by writers in a struggling media industry. The company adopted a simple, transparent business model where they take a 10% cut of subscription revenue, making money only when writers do. However, in 2021, it was revealed that the company initially experimented with small advances ($10,000 to $30,000) to help writers get established on the platform. They then introduced Substack Pro, a program where they pay writers an upfront sum to cover their first year on the platform. Under Substack Pro writers receive financial security for a year and Substack keeps 85% of subscription revenue in the first year. After the first year, writers keep 90% of revenue. This shift diverges from Substack’s original approach. Three months ago, they announced the Creator Studio fellowship, aiming to help video creators move from platforms like TikTok to Substack. This move highlights Substack’s efforts to diversify and adapt its platform.
Substack’s evolution reflects a common pattern among platforms that initially prioritise creator autonomy but gradually shift towards more controlling, revenue-driven models. The introduction of Substack Pro, the offering of advances, and now the expansion into video content could be interpreted as steps towards centralising control. Whilst Substack continues to promote creator independence, its increasing involvement in shaping how creators operate may be seen as a gradual erosion of the very autonomy it once presented as its foundational promise.
As we navigate this evolving landscape, we remain cautiously engaged. We appreciate Substack’s current value while recognising that all platforms are subject to change. Our approach balances utilising the platform’s benefits with maintaining our independence. We’re prepared to adapt should Substack’s path diverge from our vision of creator autonomy and independent publishing, or should the platform deteriorate as we’ve witnessed with Facebook and, increasingly, Instagram. In this digital realm, today’s oasis can quickly become tomorrow’s mirage.
Some of the longform content we’ve written on the platform:
