Where its come and where its going… maybe
Once upon a time… the first peoples settle into Substack as a refuge for writing and reading personalised pieces. A blogging community took shape; one not too dissimilar to WordPress twenty years prior.
As awareness grew… more users came seeking this new promised land of passive income. Many more started selling their supposed secrets to succeeding in the Paid Subscriber market with steps that any sheep in their herd could follow. Viral fame and fortune had eluded these newcombers from Instagram, TikTok, and LinkedIn. “Drop you newsletter link in the replies so we can follow each other!” said in search of an easy answer to their 9–5 stressors.
Today… those who once liked sharing thoughts that have touched them deeply are now feeling increasingly salty. Their morning scroll is filled with “look at me” articles that bury the meaningful updates. AI-generated motivational posters and art once reserved for other niche channels are dominating their “for you” feed. Creative dilution and boredom approaches critical mass as images outshine stanzas and uncouth comment-leavers take to defiling good writers’ pages.
Tomorrow… the exodus of the casual writer continues as late adopters find their way into the fray. It’s the gold rush in motion—eager to rake it in—but soon finding their monthly recurring revenue balance looking quite empty. Discontent rises, subscriber counts fall, and creator accounts we once loved go dormant. Everyone’s talking yet nobody’s listening because it’s hard to be heard over the noise.
The day after tomorrow… even the schemers have decided to leave, like greased-hair guys hanging around the club unitl closing. There’s little money to be found except for a few high profile persons still shilling their get-rich-quick courses. It’s not so much fun for their faithful readers to eventually learn that there’s no guarantee of winning.
The quiet future begins… back where it began, but with the quiet streets now looking more ravaged and desolate. The general public pokes their head in less to see what might be shaking after Substack got known for its bloated, self-serving content. Some storytellers keep sharing their tales, although their once-thriving audiences have vanished.
Eventually… peace is felt by those who remain as the neighbourhood breathes a sigh of relief. The winds are still, and yet their words carry on. They’ll continue writing because it’s the thing that they do.
