Why a Blog?

I'm writing what will hopefully be a quick note, but given its importance, it might wind up much longer than intended. If you read to wherever it ends, congrats.

Recently, I've noticed quite a few of my fellow writers have launched Substacks. Faced with countless rejections, an industry that treats any project that whiffs of risk like an agitated rattlesnake, and (social) media landscape that urges everyone to become "a creative" for the sake of earning a little cash every now and then, I understand why they'd consider this a good idea. I was once in their position as well. The prospect of publishing your thoughts, essays, and creative projects and gaining a following yourself, rather than depending on the industry, is alluring.

And friends have asked me why I blog on my website, rather than on Substack. It's so Web 2.0 of me. How will I gain followers, make money, get clicks?

The answer is twofold: first, I'm not writing for the sake of watching a line go up. If I have only five readers, but they're inspired or can relate to what I've written, that's far more valuable to me than 100 or 1,000 readers. And I don't want to profit off of that resonance. Of course, earning money for my work is a great feeling, but I'm not thinking quantitatively when I write. It's just words, arranged in a way I love, thrown out into the world for anyone else to read. To me, a blog on an author website is just another medium for that.

Second, I did have a Substack back in 2023. When I began developing the idea for my second novel, I thought pressuring myself to post a chapter per week, and allow subscribers to influence the overall story's direction, would be a great way to be consistent and committed. But that's not the kind of writer I am (as evidenced by how often I post this blog). I draft in spurts, let myself wallow in doubt for a bit, then rush in again. I don't really care about consistency or the Great Men (TM) who write a novel or a screenplay every year.

After about three or four chapters I just gave up, realizing my ideas were too underdeveloped and I didn't have enough time between each post to research and then draft. It became another pressure on my life and smothered my creativity. But I left whatever I had written up and said I was going on hiatus. I'm sure my 20ish subscribers were devastated. Then, at the beginning of 2024, I removed those posts and essentially left the platform. What happened?

Substack is a fascinating case study of a real wannabe "everything app": it's an aggregate of blogs/newsletters, but on a centralized platform that allows you to subscribe to fellow writers' newsletters and even recommend their content to your subscribers; it's a social platform for interacting with these writers and posting little notes and musings; it's a crowdfunder for your creative practice, as subscribers can pay to keep you writing. With those three different models, setting rules and standards, and defining the values you want to hold, can be quite a daunting task. Still, my position is if you can't ensure your bridge is safe to stand on, don't build it.

Unfortunately, Substack is a fraying rope bridge cast over a chasm that decided to let everyone stand on it at once. In 2023, there was a clear, identified risk of Substack allowing Nazis onto the platform—not a term to be used lightly, the myriad blogs in question were self-identified "national socialists" who spewed vitriol I won't repeat here. The founders of Substack replied with quite a feeble defense of free speech, and that removing such blogs wouldn't make the problem go away. While there is some merit to that stance, the reality is when you have a prominent platform and writers who explicitly violate your terms of service, but are permitted to stay, you're playing your part in spreading their ideas. It's not your job to completely eradicate the problem; it is your job to stymie it.

Fast forward to the beginning of August 2025, when Substack sent its users a recommendation to subscribe to NatSocToday with a swastika front-and-center. Ascribed to an "algorithmic error", the apology cannot end there. As that article I just linked states:

It's not about being "unbiased" or upholding "free speech". It never was. In my own time perusing Substack, I encountered Zionist blogs that sugarcoated current affairs and explicitly called for harm towards Palestinians (no I will not link those articles and increase their reach, assuming they're still up). Is it any wonder I would much rather post articles on my own website, with the tiny engagement it receives, than be complicit in whatever broader goals Substack has?

All that said, I'm embedding my friends' Substack links in this sentence because their words are valuable, even if the platform continues to prove itself irresponsible. I don't blame them for using a tool that promises fame, revenue, and a network of writers. I don't blame them for being enticed by Substack's legitimacy and wanting to be part of it. They aren't the ones letting insidious schools of thought on the platform, and (hopefully) not the ones reading those blogs.

But the only way we can enforce change is to operate en masse—follow the footsteps of Ed Zitron, Ryan Broderick, Casey Newton and others, who saw the shark's dorsal fin and immediately got out of the water. Ultimately, your words will still be on the internet, and can be found if people search for your name. Your words will still appear in publications, still gain momentum, and people will read them regardless of their host. If you lose a few followers on the way, so be it. What are you writing for?

DISCLAIMER: I acknowledge there's no 100% ethical platform for putting oneself out there.

Most notably, I want to state upfront that I'm aware Wix is an Israeli company. I wasn't aware of this when I first created my author website, and in a few months—as part of a broader revamp of my author profile and some very exciting news—I will remove my Wix account and set up my own website, either via a different web hosting platform or built from scratch.