I wasn’t planning on publishing this week. It’s been a draining week. Nothing bad, just draining. My mom’s house in Albuquerque, ostensibly my childhood home, was finally and officially sold; we learned that my mom, in fact, may have brain surgery in a month; and so on.
I haven’t been paying much attention to the world outside.
That’s my privilege.
So, I was planning on skipping a post for today and writing something for next week. My final post of the year.
But, here I am instead.
Last night, as I was unwinding from a long day in the car, I saw an email in my inbox from one of the Substack writers that I subscribe to.
The subject line was “Substack writers against Nazis.” My interest, to say the least, was piqued.
I learned about Substack years ago, probably within it’s first year as a company in 2017 or early 2018. I was, back then, paying a lot of attention to tech startups. I was also very active on Twitter at that time, so it’s not surprising that I heard about this new newsletter platform.
I reserved a few names on Substack. (I can’t remember some of them for the life of me, but somewhere in my email there are Substack names I could use.) And then, I moved on. I had too many other things to focus on, like building my own tech startup.
In 2022 I came back to Substack because I wanted to follow one of my favorite writers, Anne Helen Peterson. It’s also when I reserved the name for this Substack, not knowing when, or even if, I would use it. I am a paid subscriber to two Substacks: Culture Study by Anne Helen Peterson and An Irritable Métis by Chris La Tray. (And now an annual subscription to AHP’s new Culture Study podcast - $30.)
So, every month I pay $10 for these two newsletters. Of that, the Substack platform gets $1 and $3 for the podcast. So, $15 a year. That’s how much they make off of me and my participation on this platform.
Because I have yet to turn on paid subscriptions for my own Substack, the platform is not getting much out of me in terms of revenue.
I use this platform largely for free.
And I know that has a high cost.
You see, one of the things that I learned in the tech startup world is that if you are using a platform, a software, a product for free, then you are the product. In the end, capitalism needs to exploit and extract as much from you as it possible can. That’s why “free” services are never actually free. They use analytics to improve the service, sure. But they also use that data to sell you to the highest bidder. Mostly that means advertisers, but not always.
I know this, and yet, I still look for the cheapest, i.e. free, service that meets my needs, whatever those needs may be.
I’m a consumer, just like everyone else. So, I’m often willing to trade my data for the use of a free product that I need or that I enjoy using.
But, here comes the crux of the matter. You, as a subscriber to my Do Less, Better, newsletter, are also making that trade with Substack. And you may not realize it.
And here’s where it gets really sticky and ugly.
Substack believes in my right to free speech, so much so that if I started spewing hate, they wouldn’t have a problem with it all. You probably would, so you would unsubscribe and move on with your life. But other people in this world would be drawn into my validating their hate, giving them a community for it, and they would subscribe. And then others would subscribe. And sooner or later, I would have a whole lot of subscribers celebrating each other in our collective hate.
And that’s when Substack would get really excited. Because most likely by then I would have turned on paid subscriptions and they would start making a lot more revenue off of me.
Because, you see, it’s easier to grow a platform of hate than it is to grow one of love.
And so, I’m joining other Substack writers in asking the co-founders and leaders of Substack to clarify their policies on hate. Specifically them promoting Nazis and white nationalists on this platform.
I’m also researching other platforms that I could move this newsletter to. Because either way, I’ve realized that I don’t want to be a product and I don’t want you to be a product anymore either. A realization that is better late than never but one I should have made a while ago. I’m human too and sometimes I go for the easiest option rather than the correct one.
Below is the open letter that is being republished by Substack writers. I stand firmly with everyone raising these questions on this platform and beyond.
I also want to point you to two of the other writers and their arguments on why they are sharing this letter and calling for clarification.
There are no easy answers to these questions. We live in an era when information is easily transmitted without much effort or thought of whether it is accurate or not. Hate and hateful people will continue to find platforms where they can share their opinions, no matter what. That doesn’t mean we need to promote those opinions or be complicit in their promotion.
Which is why I can only leave you with this. My senior year of college I took a course called “Seminar in Evil.” The lesson of that course, which I have taken with me every where I go, is that evil thrives when it is ignored by others.
I refuse to ignore it.
In solidarity,
Alyson
Dear Chris, Hamish & Jairaj:
We’re asking a very simple question that has somehow been made complicated: Why are you platforming and monetizing Nazis?
According to a piece written by Substack publisher Jonathan M. Katz and published by The Atlantic on November 28, this platform has a Nazi problem:
“Some Substack newsletters by Nazis and white nationalists have thousands or tens of thousands of subscribers, making the platform a new and valuable tool for creating mailing lists for the far right. And many accept paid subscriptions through Substack, seemingly flouting terms of service that ban attempts to ‘publish content or fund initiatives that incite violence based on protected classes’...Substack, which takes a 10 percent cut of subscription revenue, makes money when readers pay for Nazi newsletters.”
As Patrick Casey, a leader of a now-defunct neo-Nazi group who is banned on nearly every other social platform except Substack, wrote on here in 2021: “I’m able to live comfortably doing something I find enjoyable and fulfilling. The cause isn’t going anywhere.” Several Nazis and white supremacists including Richard Spencer not only have paid subscriptions turned on but have received Substack “Bestseller” badges, indicating that they are making at a minimum thousands of dollars a year.
From our perspective as Substack publishers, it is unfathomable that someone with a swastika avatar, who writes about “The Jewish question,” or who promotes Great Replacement Theory, could be given the tools to succeed on your platform. And yet you’ve been unable to adequately explain your position.
In the past you have defended your decision to platform bigotry by saying you “make decisions based on principles not PR” and “will stick to our hands-off approach to content moderation.” But there’s a difference between a hands-off approach and putting your thumb on the scale. We know you moderate some content, including spam sites and newsletters written by sex workers. Why do you choose to promote and allow the monetization of sites that traffic in white nationalism?
Your unwillingness to play by your own rules on this issue has already led to the announced departures of several prominent Substackers, including Rusty Foster and Helena Fitzgerald. They follow previous exoduses of writers, including Substack Pro recipient Grace Lavery and Jude Ellison S. Doyle, who left with similar concerns.
As journalist Casey Newton told his more than 166,000 Substack subscribers after Katz’s piece came out: “The correct number of newsletters using Nazi symbols that you host and profit from on your platform is zero.”
We, your publishers, want to hear from you on the official Substack newsletter. Is platforming Nazis part of your vision of success? Let us know—from there we can each decide if this is still where we want to be.
Signed,
Substackers Against Nazis