“But I already have a website on Substack,” you argue. No, Substack is just a distribution tool to amplify your website. It should not be your digital home.

It’s okay if you’ve bought a domain and linked it to Substack like Rachel from Conscious Living. This essentially turns Substack into a Content Management System. It’s not my favourite method, to be honest, as Substack as a CMS is drastically limited in what it can do, but for writers who are short of time and just want something simple, it’s better than nothing.

But some writers say, “Hey readers, I’m now on Substack (and ignore my website)!”

I’m here to tell you that’s the worse thing a writer can do for their long-term visibility on the Internet.

The siren call of convenience

Platforms promise an eager audience and built-in monetization. But the truth: When you build your audience on someone else’s platform, you aren’t a homeowner. You are a tenant. Corporate landlords always change the rules.

We’ve watched Twitter, Reddit, and others shift policies. Relying on a portal not owned by you means your work can alter overnight. Your writing needs a domain you own.

But, you say, “My website doesn’t have an audience!” But really, it doesn’t have to be an all or nothing decisions. You don’t have to abandon platforms like Substack. You can use it to promote the content on your website.

And if you’re concerned about losing the freedom to write the way you want, you don’t have to blog like an SEO genius on your website either. You blog the IndieWeb way or create a digital garden.

Substack’s network effects are real, but so is the pressure to conform to its biases and rules. For example, the platform’s algorithms prioritize US-centric narratives, making it tough for localized voices to be seen. So, there’s constant temptation to write to the US audience to get noticed. But is that the right thing for you to do? Write about the United States so that you’ll get noticed?

The antidote is to have an independent website with an RSS, and ruthlessly use Substack for distribution. When one collapses, your home remains.

You can read a longer, more detailed version of this essay on my website. There, I highlight writers like John Scalzi and how his strategy to blog on his website has helped him survive the platform turmoils.

Read the full essay

Substack’s algorithms can be tricky, so let’s not rely on it alone. Follow me on my websites and other channels via RSS or email — that way, we won’t lose touch: elizabethtai.com / Mastodon / Drama Tea (where I write about Chinese dramas).

However, as I know a paid subscription can be quite a commitment, you can also give me a tip:

Tip me

Promise: I joined "Red Note" weeks before #TiktokRefugees started trending on X.

I was getting immensely fed up with the toxicity of Weibo, and wanted a Chinese social media platform that was, well, less of a toilet.

I was recommended 小红书 (xiaohongshu) or "Little Red Book." (PS: I'm going to call it xiaohongshu because Red Note isn't the right name for it. By the way, while many Americans will assume it’s in reference to Mao’s “little red book”, the platform denies the link. Chinese netizens think of the term as their version of the “yellow pages”, although I’m sure some think of it as a ‘tongue-in-cheek’ reference to said infamous book of quotes. I suppose “red” is used because it’s a very auspicious colour for the Chinese.)

Why did I want to tap into Chinese social media? Well, mostly to force myself to read Chinese content without English translation. (As you know, I’m currently upgrading my Chinese skills.)

My feed was full of Chinese dramas, actors and travel videos. But two days ago, Tiktok style videos started flooding into the app. And there was English everywhere?

That was when I found out that Tiktok would be banned on Jan 19.

Most of these "refugees" were from the United States, some were from other countries such as Germany, Britain and more.

Like everyone on xiaohongshu, I was swept up by the thrill and hilarity of it.

Is there anything more ironic than American folks flocking to a China-based app after the international version of a Chinese app was banned? And is there anything funnier than a government trying to prevent its citizens from sharing their data with a Chinese app, only to have said citizens willingly give up their data directly to China instead? And isn’t it wonderfully poetic that an isolationist move ended up fostering one of the most spontaneous cultural exchanges between two "cold war" countries?

One of the best parts of this thing for me was witnessing the heart-warming exchanges between the Chinese and TikTok refugees.

I was really amused that the Americans were so amazed that "everyone is so nice" to them.

As I explained to an American user, "Chinese people pride themselves on treating their guests well." To do otherwise would be shameful, uncivilised behaviour.

It then occurred to me that this was probably the first time some folks in the United States were speaking directly to someone in China.

As both sides awkwardly used AI to translate each other's messages, they exchanged family and cat photos, and answer questions such as "As an American, can you guys tell us what's wrong with our country, looking at if rom your perspective outside of America?"

For the longest time, Americans dwelt on social media platforms where their worldviews and topics dominated. They were comfortable. But now, they're being exposed to a different way of looking at the world and are on someone else's digital territory.

Judging from the many "Is it safe?" or "I'm scared" videos I saw, many were nervous about this.

In South-East Asia, especially in countries where there are many fluent English speakers (like in Malaysia), we've been using American-created social media platforms, like, forever. Therefore, we've made many friends (and enemies) across international borders for decades.

However, folks in China, while they have access to VPNs where they can post things on platforms like Youtube, often prefer to dwell on China-based platforms like Weibo, Wechat, and Xiaohongshu. Yes, it's mostly because of the language barrier but it's also because their platforms are already enough; they don't need to venture beyond China's borders to look for more.

(In fact, China is probably one of the very few countries to have tech sovereignty, but that's a story for another day.)

What I'm seeing is that many Americans seem to finally see for themselves how Chinese people think, live and interact.

I feel their sense of wonder and amazement as Chinese people welcome them in cheerful videos and cat photos. One amusing memes on xiahongshu right now is the "cat tax". Sure, you wai guo ren can write your posts, but we demand cat photos first!

And lo and behold, Chinese people apparently have a sense of humour, as many joke of being Chinese spies and finally meeting the people they spy on. (Fun fact, one of the videos going viral on xiaohongshu is that of a Chinese Trump impersonator!)

For the longest time, people from China and the United States saw each other as amorphous blobs stereotyped by their respective media.

Perhaps xiaohongshu made many realise that at the end of the day, we are human, have families, cats and dogs we love. And that we just want to live in peace and not bomb each other. (Though arguably, I feel that the Chinese side is far more aware of life in the United States than the other way round.)

Accidental cross-cultural exchange, but will it last?

I want this cross-cultural exchange to last forever, but, well, I'm also a realist and a cynic.

Many Tiktokers, despite their enthusiasm to learn Mandarin (one of the most difficult languages in the world), would find the language and cultural barriers difficult to overcome and will give up.

Once the curiosity and hype phase is over, many would probably slink back to (gasp) Meta platforms.

And on the Chinese side, well, patience will start to fade.

Already, there are murmurings from some parts of Chinese xiaohongshu.

Many complain that their feeds are now hijacked by content in a language they don't understand or appreciate.

"This reminds me of my English exams when I was in school," complained one poster.

My feed was replaced by the infamous Tiktok brainrot that had originally made me run screaming from that app. I've seen enough photos of abs, cleavages, biceps and butts in tight lycra to last a lifetime. And for goodness sakes, why do they make videos while lying in bed??

But the trend I most dread are "hot takes" about Chinese culture that I am sure would happen.

As a reluctant member of Reddit and moderator of a China-adjacent Subreddit, I've had to read weird theories about Chinese culture by amateur anthropologists every day.

Part of the reason why xiaohongshu was a nice refuge for me was that I didn't have to brace myself for an ignoramus talking about Chinese culture via a biased Western lens. I don't have to resist the urge to jump into the comments to fight them. I don't have to scroll quickly away before rage robs me of my will power.

Already, some vile trolls on X are egging each other to post photos of Tienanmen Square or talk about Xinjiang on xiaohongshu.

I'm almost dreading the Chinese response. At least we South-East Asians are used to the stupid misconceptions about our cultures, but are Chinese people ready?

Is the government, ready??

I can guaran-damn-tee you that if that happens, the Chinese government would overreact.

I'm fortunate enough not to see these painful posts on the platform so far, but some refugees are already begging other Americans to "not fuck this up".

I really feel for these folks, because these are mostly lovely people that I believe belong on xiaohongshu forever but if there's anything I know about human nature is that, yes, indeed-y, we are guaranteed to fuck this up.

PS: If you want to follow me on xiaohongshu, just search for “Liz T”. I used it as a placeholder but didn’t didn’t realise that you can only change your profile a few times before it locks down. Oops.

Thoughts from people smarter than me

We should welcome these TikTok refugees with open arms rather than fear the incoming "refugee wave." We need the capability to accommodate them while upgrading China's internet landscape. - Chinese Public Opinion Leaders Respond to "TikTok Refugees" Migrating to RedNote by

Analysts believe that the coming days could be a crucial test for Xiaohongshu as new users navigate a platform that contrasts with TikTok’s short-video approach. The platform could additionally face several issues, including tackling harmful content and user retention. - US TikTok users flock to China’s Red Note. Why this matters by

Apparently trying to discourage potential restrictions and shape a discourse - and thus a policy direction - conducive to more room for the badly-needed direct communications between Chinese and Americans, some Chinese public opinion leaders have already gotten to work. - The curious case of Tiktok refugees by

So, are you on “Red Note?”

As I know subscribing to a newsletter can be quite a commitment, you can also give me a tip:

Tip me

Well, has it been a while! And here am I, back to overwhelm your inbox with a girnomous essay! Just kidding - I hope?

Anyway, recently, in a moment of weakness, I subscribed to a popular newsletter about increasing Substack paid subscriptions. I wondered if there was a "magic formula" for Substack success.

Turns out, there isn’t any.

You see, I've worked in content marketing for years, so the writer didn't tell me anything new. If anything, the advice felt simplistic.

The biggest takeaway?

Substacks that revolves around personal essays and fiction are incredibly tough sells ... unless your brand is strong.

And your brand is essentially your personality or your persona. You must be dramatic, magnetic and, yes, famous enough for people to pay for content that doesn’t fulfil an urgent need.

The easiest way for Substackers to get more paid subscribers is to offer a service that isn't easily replicable. News about China perhaps. Top tips to earn a million bucks in a year, that kind of thing.

This shouldn’t have surprised me.

Personal essays and fiction have always, always, always been challenging to monetize, no matter the medium.

My experience of going paid

I introduced paid subscriptions sometime this year, when Tai Tales was mostly a newsletter sharing fiction. And when I did, it was on a whim. Someone told me to flip the switch on because who knows, I may get subscribers! Since I've got nothing to lose, I did just that, all the while thinking who in the world would pay me for my blatherings.

To my surprise, some of you did end up being my paid subscribers, and for that, I’m endlessly grateful.

I’ll be honest: paid subscriptions do come with guilt and pressure. I constantly wonder if my work is worth your hard-earned money. And since I've pivoted Tai Tales away from fiction, and have stopped writing fiction for a while, the guilt is immense!

For those of you who’ve deigned to become paid subscribers, I want to assure you that every penny goes toward my survival fund which I save and invest. As a worker in the tech industry, the reality is that I'm always one moment away from a pink slip. (As I recently shared with paid subscribers, who will know what I’m talking about.) So, your generosity will literally feed me, and I’m deeply, deeply grateful for your generosity.

When I think about Tai Tales, I can’t pinpoint a solid reason why anyone should pay for it. Does that mean I’m being too hard on myself? Not really. I’m simply looking at things through a content marketer’s lens. If your content doesn’t offer something people can’t find elsewhere, its value becomes harder to justify. And, yeah, I don't think I'm famous.

Last time I checked anyway.

But maybe newsletters is more than just value?

Staying paid, but patronage style

I recently watched a video from a YouTuber I deeply admire. A scientist by trade, he shares incredibly valuable content to improve your health without any strings attached—no courses, no upsells.

He only recently opened a Patreon account to let people support him because they begged him to. He said that he was told that his approach to sharing content was "unique", but he doesn't want to do any sponsorships, content marketing or advertising, because that's not his way.

His approach—the "patronage model"—really resonates with me far more than the aggressive content marketing approach that that popular Substacker recommends.

I will still keep the TMI category, where I share private or personal updates, exclusive to paid subscribers. It feels right to reserve those private moments only for them. I also have a tip jar where you can tip me whatever you like.

Recently, some Substackers I follow have been ungating their content, such as Lily:

Lily Pond

I'm Calling This a Blog

Dear readers — my loyal Ponders and new subscribers alike…

Read more

2 years ago · 19 likes · 37 comments

I’m thinking of doing the same, but I haven’t figured out the mechanics yet. Should I ungate all of them? Keep some parts of the issue gated? Decisions!

So, yes, please do support if you can afford it, but no pressure. Just know that if you do, your gesture is deeply appreciated, especially in uncertain times like these.

Sharpening the focus

One of the things I also did during my long break was to reassess my approach to this newsletter. The conclusion? I’m happy with where I am. Leaving the fiction realm was sad, but I realised that I just can’t create fiction on command like some people can. And I seem to prefer to write fiction in private. (Yes, I’m actually writing a novel for my own amusement right now! I’m not sure when I’ll share it with the public, but I’m having fun writing it for myself right now.)

In 2025, want to tighten Tai Tales’ focus even further.

This newsletter will still revolve around Chinese and Malaysian culture. I’ll be sharing more travelougues and essays on life in Malaysia, but I will also be combining Chinese learning efforts with my love for Chinese dramas. Yup, I'll be using Chinese dramas to help you learn Chinese!

The term "comprehensive input" is something you'll hear from me a lot. This is based on Stephen Krashen’s "Input Hypothesis", which states that languages is best learned when learners immerse themselves in content from their target language that is slightly above their current skill level, but still understandable.

Although I’m a banana trying to learn a Chinese language other than her own native one, and thus not exactly an expert, I’m really skilled at learning things.

And that’s what I want to share—how to learn Mandarin effectively while having fun learning about Chinese dramas!

My goal is also to make each issue of Tai Tales more meaningful instead of flooding your inbox four times a month in the name of “consistency”.

So, I’ll scale back the number of issues per month to deliver higher-quality content.

I’m not sure about the number yet. ;P

Thank You

Thank you for being here, for reading, and for supporting this little corner of the internet. I’m excited about Tai Tales in 2025 and hope to create something that entertains, educates, and brings a bit of joy to your day. Let me know what you think about these changes—your feedback is invaluable.

Until next time,

Liz

As I know subscribing to a newsletter can be quite a commitment, you can also give me a tip:

Tip me

Over a year ago, I decided to change the trajectory of my newsletter. Before October 2022, I used Substack as a free way to inform my subscribers of new blog poss. Then, I realised that Substack could be much, much more. And the possibilities filled me with excitement.

Now, a year later, I can say that the enthusiasm is deflated, though still there. My conclusion is that to succeed on Substack, you need to put in a lot of work like any other platform. I’m fine with the work, but I also realise that a lot of it could still be out of your control and are influenced by encroaching social media-like algorithms on Substack, the dominant demographic on the platform and your social media klout.

Below are my observations, and feel free to chime in the comments if this has and has not been your experience.

1. Being a part of the Substack community is a must to get more readers and attention to your Substack. That means commenting on other people’s Substacks, or participating in writing prompts (for Fiction readers). Now there’s Substack Notes, but it does feel like shouting into the ether especially if you’re a small fry. You’d be better off commenting on a high-traffic person’s posts.

2. There’s no denying that if you are already an established name in your field, you will attract subscribers like flies. It used to puzzle me, because some of these high-traffic folks would post a photo and write something pithy about said photo and attract 40+ comments. Klout still matters on Substack.

3. People with Klout are often promoted on Substack’s official newsletter. And if they are not established names, they already have thousands of subscribers. This can be dispiriting to some newbies, though inspiring to some. There should at least be a “new to Substack” section.

4. As a reader, it is a struggle to find fresh new Substacks from unknowns. If you go through the Substack categories, they are often arranged by “who has the most followers” on top, and those who don’t have as many followers get buried at the bottom. Worse, the UI isn’t friendly either - it’s an endless scroll to the bottom. There must be an easier way for newbies to get seen instead of hoping that someone will have the energy to scroll all the way to the bottom.

5. Substack’s search sucks.

6. If you have zero klout, no name or connections, be reading for hard work. Producing content regularly and being social will get you somewhere.

7. However, good content is paramount. I noticed that these types of content do well on Substack:

   1. You offer unique insights into a place/issue

   2. You teach people how to do well on Substack (this is very Medium, where most of the posts that gain traction is how to earn $$ in Medium)

   3. Fiction - if you offer both a and b with your fiction, you’ll do well

8. If you’re a person with mental or physical challenges, keeping up with the demands of being “social” on Substack and producing constantly can be arduous and impossible. I knew what it took to succeed … but I just don’t have the mental capacity, and it can get depressing seeing others race in front of you but you’re held back by your disabilities/lack of energy. There’s no sugarcoating this - Substack is not geared for people like this.

9. That said, there are amazing Substackers who have worked with their limitations or have boundaries. I admire and for refusing to bow down to the gods of attention and productivity. Both remind me that I have to work with my mental levels and respect that. Don’t compare yourself to other people, especially if they are more productive.

10. For low-energy people (mental or physical), publishing in seasons could be one way to do it. is one who is doing that, though I do not see any breaks between seasons. I used to follow two creatives who struggle with physical illnesses, and one of the ways they cope is to publish seasonally, and that’s usually just about 6-7 months a year.

11. Work on a stockpile of content first before publishing your first issue, if possible. Especially if you have mental and physical challenges. I realise that while I enjoy writing on the fly, there are weeks when I just can’t do it and had to stop writing.

12. There are many interesting payment models on Substack, and as a reader and fiction writer I prefer the “archive older posts” method as it feels like I’m giving value to the subscribers but also giving new readers a chance to “try me out”.

13. Offering ebooks to subscribers is also a good way to attract subscribers. and does this.

14. I used to enjoy Substack Notes. Now I don’t. It’s just full of so much hustle that it makes me irritated and depressed. I have this inner cavewoman who is demanding, “What can I do to get as much attention?” This pressure is something I am trying to avoid on social media. Also, I’m a person who can’t split myself between too many social media channels, and Mastodon is just more rewarding and hustle-free for me right now.

15. Substack is a US-dominated platform and as a reader, it’s very … dispiriting? Tiring? Stifling? Boring? to always read fiction or essays from an American perspective. I’ve made an effort to hunt for more international content, but they are very far and few in between. And as a writer, I wonder if I could offer writing that would interest US-centric audiences. I think, possibly, but maybe some would find my content off-putting or alien. (I find that if you offer a different political perspective than the US/Western left/right cultural talking points, you’ll get a lot of pushback. Sometimes, animosity.)

16. I still have no idea how to convert people to being paid subscribers. Fiction seems like an incredibly tough field for that, so I’m only wishing for the gods of Substack to smile down on me lol. And as the tech industry goes through massive layoffs, I find myself thinking about getting more subscribers so that I could have a rainy day stream of income, but the pressure of having to do so much to even get there is sucking all joy from my fiction writing.

17. There’s a movement away from Substack as people realised they need to control where their content lives. Others like question its model. I found Louise Stigell’s comments interesting:
    
    I’ve also been kind of reluctant to let so much of my content live somewhere other than on my website. It doesn’t matter that Substack is a great platform, and that I can move my content off it whenever I want. It doesn’t matter that I can monetize my content here. It’s still not my platform, and I have no control over the rollout of new features, visual changes, monetization policies, et.c. Some people have complained to me that I’m being too pushy trying to get them to pay for a subscription. Well, it’s not me doing the pushing, it’s Substack. It’s all automated and beyond my control. And ultimately, what matters the most to me in my business in control and autonomy. - Bye, Substack

So, there you have it. Substack gives me mixed emotions. On the one hand, I’ve been able to increase my subscriber base thanks to it. On the other hand, it gives me a lot of pressure at the same time. I’m not sure what to make of it! Except that I have way more fun on Mastodon and on my blog than on Substack and it’s making me wonder if I should leave it like some Substackers have.

Yes, this is due to the massive amount of data it collects from me if I ever do join. But I'm f**ked already anyway because I have an Instagram account. I actively ignore said Instagram unless friends (who almost always stubbornly refuse to leave platforms I hate) send me a cat reel.

And if you hadn’t gotten the hint, I really hate Instagram, and apparently, the influencers are glomping on Threads and nothing makes me more nauseous than celebrity culture and their sycophants.

Third point: I just have no bandwidth to add another social media network. Between Mastodon and Substack, I'm up to my ears keeping up with posts and comments. Are you kidding me? There's something called “sleep” I really want.

On Mastodon, the reaction to Threads can be summed up with this meme:

On Threads, the reaction has been: This is the new Twitter! It will take over the world!

On Twitter: Meh.

On Facebook, my friends don't even know they exist because they're posting about their marriages and babies.

If you ever dare to post something supportive of Threads on Mastodon, bless you child, you are brave!

If you ever dare to post that you've joined Threads and are enjoying it, you'll get tonnes of reply folks (usually guys) telling you that you're deluded and on the way of being a data machine for Big Tech and you should so quit now because they're evil and possibly baby killers.

Because on Mastodon, they are absolutely paranoid of Threads. So much so that the Mastodon management had to come out and placate people's fears about Meta attempting to Embrace, Extend and Extinguish Mastodon.

The fact that large platforms are adopting ActivityPub is not only validation of the movement towards decentralized social media, but a path forward for people locked into these platforms to switch to better providers.

— What to know about Threads

Each time a new social media network appears, there will be a flurry of comments about why one should not pick said social media because (insert wrong ideological belief held by founders/developers/concept of app). And if you do you're probably a Nazi. Perhaps this is a purely Mastodon behaviour as I'm usually on Mastodon, but I see this perspective everywhere, but with a different spin, depending on the platform's political inclination.

When Lemmy, the Fediverse version of Reddit, first appeared, I saw posts on Mastodon urging people to not adopt it because didn't you know that the developers have an evil attitude towards human rights violations? So, use something else for the sake of humanity! If you don't care anyway you're a Nazi for sure.

Read the thread (hah!).

Also, don't use Twitter because you'll be at the Nazi bar drinking with Nazis.

And oh yeah, don't use Substack too, cos, Nazis*:

Read the post.

I call this the "puritanical pursuit of platform purity".

This is closely related to the "puritanical pursuit of product purity".

Meaning, thou shalt not consume nor use products or platforms that have the wrong ideologies.

If you go in this direction, be sure to eliminate Amazon, cloud services, email and hosting services too. And maybe that platform you use to get cat sitters for Mum.

Be sure to dive into these companies’ annual reports and scan the media for any sign of ill intent.

Of course, you will soon discover that what makes an ideology wrong is an expansive and probably never-ending list.

Which is why pursuing platform purity is also a futile exercise. Somewhere, someone tied to a platform would have done something that you don't agree with.

The people who create the platforms are human, so of course they'll do something shifty eventually.

The thing is, if we acknowledge that human beings are flawed and imperfect, why do we expect the platforms they build to be created and run with pure and good intentions?

In a capitalistic world? Come on!

And if platforms do convince you that indeed they are pure and good, they're probably hiding something.

And are probably Nazis.

What a conundrum?

So, if everyone is evil in some way, what should we do?

Stay off the Internet!

Just kidding.

Though I think the world would be a better place if there were fewer people on the Internet.

Okay, now to write writerly stuff about this situation.

If you are a writer, artist or creative who depends on social media to spread your work and get commissions, what you do about this prickly situation?

I have a tip - pick the platform that suits your needs and personality.

Yeah, that's it!

As creatives, we need to approach platforms as tools. We only need to answer these questions:

• Does my audience dwell on this platform?

• Does this platform make it easy to reach them?

• Do I enjoy using it?

But if it matters to you that a Nazi is now controlling it and you don't want to be seen supporting evil and want to leave, go ahead!

Do pick a platform that suits you, but don't guilt people into leaving a platform because your ideals may not be theirs. That’s a waste of your time and theirs.

As creatives, we should be pragmatic and practical when it comes to distributing our work. Using a platform that was built in good intentions is swell, but it probably doesn't exist in reality.

What do you think?

* The overuse of the word Nazi by people of the left persuasion to label things they don't agree with is an annoying habit, but that's a topic for another day. And please, don't @ me for why you have to label things Nazi because Nazism is rising in America/Europe, whatever. I live in a country where your entry into public universities is determined by your race and politicians hurl racist epithets during parliamentary sessions, but I don't label everything Nazi because that word needs to be respected for the heavy historical meaning it carries.

Once upon a time, before social media, I made friends with an American Christian evangelical.

Back then, I was new to the American culture war, but I knew enough to be on my guard. These were the same people who snarled at me online when I wrote about my dismay and opposition to the Iraq war.

We met at a cafe and after talking to him for over an hour, I found him to be a kind and considerate fellow. Over the years, we formed a warm friendship and spoke about many things. He wanted to listen about my thoughts from the centre left, and I wanted to hear his opinion about issues from a conservative evangelical perspective. But most of the time we just hung out.

Although we didn’t always agree, he didn’t put me down for my opinions. He listened and then told me what he thought. He taught me that people on “the other side” were human and had valid points. He also taught me how to debate and discuss things in a civil and polite manner.

Over the years, I realised how rare our friendship was. These days, it seems almost anathema to be friends with anyone on the political right/left, depending on your political leanings. At least, for Americans.

These days, my friend’s thoughts on certain issues would probably not be welcomed by some folks on social media, and would probably be labeled “bigoted”.

Is Substack Notes a Nazi bar?

So, recently, Substack launched Substack Notes. I greeted the news with, “Oh great, yet another social media channel to drain my ever-dwindling attention.”

But as I played around with the platform, I found myself liking it.

Sure, I doubt about its longevity due to recent concerns about Substack’s financial health, but it was enjoyable to read notes from folks I follow. I find that newsletters authors are more playful and rsponsive on Substack Notes vs the comment section of their newsletters, so I’ve been enjoying getting to know them more.

Then came that interview.

I wasn’t surprised when Mastodon folks reacted with indignation and loud cries of “I will leave Substack now because it’s now a Nazi bar!”

By now, I was used to this trait: The refusal to listen to the other side or accept that some topics need nuance and debate. Yes, even the topic of content moderation.

As long as it doesn’t align with the approved narrative of their political ideology, out comes the cancellation button and the slur word, whether it be “woke”, “fascist” or “Nazi”.

I wrote about this at length in a recent blog post: You don’t have a moral obligation to leave Twitter.

I sometimes find myself being lectured by American folks on Mastodon (not all, mind you, but some) when my thinking does not align with theirs. Heck, I was once outright suspended from my server for tripping over a culture war talking point.

When Substack’s Hamish MacKenzie wrote a Note recently, I found myself nodding in sympathy:

Some folks expressed deep anger and disappointment at his stance. However, I did see a lot of sighs of relief and calls for, well, moderation. (Not of the content moderation kind.)

Top-down moderation doesn’t work

A lot of people immediately seem to believe that Hamish or Chris Best’s comments mean that there will be zilch moderation, and all manner of hateful speech will be tolerated.

If that’s so, I’m against it too.

I believe that anyone threatening death, dismemberment, rape and all manner of violence whether physical or mental on Substack should never be tolerated, no matter their political ideology.

As Hamish said in his Note: “…this doesn’t mean there should be no moderation at all, and we do of course have content guidelines with narrowly defined restrictions that we will continue to enforce.”

However, I think we all know, or at least suspect, that “top down” content moderation doesn’t work. By this I mean the one currently being employed by Facebook and once-upon-a-time, Twitter, where the company hires a people (usually from lower-income countries) to moderate content.

Not only is this not sustainable or scalable, it impacts the mental health of content moderators terribly.

That’s why I’m surprised that some people, especially those on Mastodon, are demanding for it.

Mastodonians should be the first people to admit that the FB-style of moderation is flawed, and community moderation is superior.

I believe this is the model that Substack should implement. Just how, I’m not sure. They will have to tackle this problem quite soon.

Let Substack be Substack

I really do not want Substack Notes to be another Twitter or Mastodon, where the platform can be labelled by casual observers as “left or right leaning”.

Lots of people around the world use Substack, and it may shock some of you that not all of us believe the same things. We do not, for the love of God, want to be trapped in yet another American-centric, culture-war-obsessed platform.

Substack has been a blessing for many of us because we could finally be ourselves here and not be vigilant for tripping over a word or be ostracized for having the wrong thought.

I urge you to read this fantastic article from The Atlantic, The world is trapped in America’s culture war to understand where I’m coming from.

Well, I can go on about this American culture war thing, but I’m frankly exhausted by it having been forced to “speak the language” on Mastodon this past six months. I’ve come to a point where I had to filter out many, many words just to avoid looking at posts ranting about the latest “Nazi” person or platform.

What I’m trying to say is I want Substack Notes and Substack the platform to be a place where I can freely access thoughts that are left and right leaning without fear of being labelled or cancelled.

I find it concerning that we're refusing to read/listen or engage with content that we don't agree with. Are we afraid of being infected by their ideas? Have we so little faith about our own beliefs or mental fortitude?

I want Substack to be a place where I can have conversations like I had with my American conservative evangelical friend, where conversations like the one in the video below can happen with civility and respect:

Oh, I am sorry. Did I trigger you with a Jordan Peterson video? Are you convinced that I’m now a right-wing tool? I assure you that you’ll be wrong because:

• I’m not American so your left and right definitions really don’t apply to me.

• I’m “outsider left” (centrist left), according to this Pew Research quiz, if you want a convenient shelf to park me under.

• I’m nobody’s tool. I have a functioning head above my shoulders and I use it actively, thank you very much.

Anyway, in this video Jordan asks his left-leaning friend, Gregg Hurwitz, to critique his Twitter interaction. I agree with a lot of what Hurwitz said about Peterson’s tweets.

Their conversation reminds me so much of the conversations I used to have with my American conservative evangelical friend. I miss them.

Why I don’t think it will be a Twitter replacement

Right now, Substack Notes has a cozy, “here’s where my friends hang out” feel. It’s somewhat of an echo chamber for writers — almost everyone interacting in there are newsletter writers.

Some say that, what good is it for if Substack newsletters can’t reach new audiences?

But maybe that’s not its primary function — maybe it’s okay as a place where readers get to know newsletter writers on a more personal level, and writers get to make friends with other writers.

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.

Because of that, I doubt it can really be a Twitter replacement as you need scale for that, and Substack Notes is heavily dependent on users being creators themselves.

I’m not 100% rah rah about Substack, as I think it has some problematic enshitification traits, but for now it’s making some of its users happy, and maybe we can just roll with it for now.

But if you want to cancel it, it’s your right. Lots of platforms out there that may suit you.

This post is also shared on my website. I am bracing myself for an onslaught of unpleasant comments. Please be civil, and don’t call anyone or anything woke, racist, Nazi or Fascist. These are words that tend to shut down debate. Thanks!

It’s the tail end of Chinese New Year and I’m doing the usual Lunar New Year things: Visiting relatives, overindulging in rich food and, as the first step to heal from years of creative burnout, carving out an algorithm-free space for myself.

I’ve come across a few interesting articles that confirmed my deep, almost conspiracy-bent feeling that algorithms were killing my creativity.

“We fell into the trap where our creations started to be dictated by the metrics of the “algorithm” … Thus, we stop creating what we like to create and become hostage to a creation focused only on results and performance.”

Felipe Zamana, The Algorithm is Killing Creativity. Here is how to save yours.

Algorithms are forcing us to create art that fits into a neat little box — their neat little box.

Food bloggers had to write long, rambly introductions before introducing a recipe. Bloggers threw away short posts because short content was deemed “low value” by Google. When social media platforms said “this is the year of the video” photographers felt pressured to pivot to videos … even if they didn’t like want to abandon their still images.

Just to be seen.

Just to make a living.

I think any creative will recognise that creating to a formula tends to kill your creative soul.

I fell into the trap too. And I was firmly in the cage, unaware, until recently.

Read more

[Part 1]

This morning, I readand found out that Substack will be rolling out a “bestseller badge” to highlight Substackers with paid subscribers. Perhaps this was Substack’s attempt to show up Twitter after their #TwitterBlue disaster, but they will be rolling out not one, but three checkmarks:

• Purple: tens of thousands of paid subscribers

• Orange: thousands of paid subscribers

• White: hundreds of paid subscribers.

Basically, accounts with, say, hundreds of paid subscribers will receive a white checkmark and so on. I already see it on some people’s profiles.

At the time of this writing, the reaction is mostly negative. Most of the 500+ comments in the article slammed the move.

I’m one of them. It’s a dispiriting, short-sighted move that will rob the platform of its current vibrancy and uniqueness, turning it into yet another social media platform where one needs to compete to be seen. The people who stand to benefit from these will be the high producers, the good marketers, the ones with already large audiences.

Substacks with small audiences will be the most affected.

Read more

At the start of this week, I firmly believed that Twitter was too big to fail. Elon Musk will take over Twitter, mess it up, get bored, and hand it over to a CEO to repair and manage.

By the end of the week, I began to entertain the dismal thought that Twitter can literally die.

Why? Because Elon eliminated most of the people who kept the wheels turning and scared advertisers away with his bluster about unmoderated "free speech".

So, let’s get this right:

1. Twitter may stop working because the elves behind the curtain are gone

2. The ad money that kept Twitter barely afloat is disappearing

It’s going to be tough to come back from that.

Read more

Subscribe now

A new Google search update, another dance to the algorithm.

A friend and I were talking about how difficult it was to now find helpful, agenda-free content on Google. For example, google "should I use Wordpress?" and the top results are from companies offering hosting services. And of course, they steer their content so you can buy Wordpress hosting solutions through them.

One "hack" I learned was to add "reddit" to my search. For example googling "should I use Wordpress reddit" will bring up more authentic, personal experiences from ordinary Joes and Janes instead of Corporation Inc.

Funnily enough, I'm not the only one using this reddit hack. This is a natural evolution as Google search is dying because Ads, SEO and AI have ruined it, muses DKB, who blogs about search engines.

Apparently, I belong to the rare 20% of those who think that Google search results suck.

Read the Essay

Personally, I spent much of that month in literal pain. A year of working from home with really bad ergonomics finally caught up with me. My neck and shoulder had seized up, causing me such pain that I didn't sleep well for the entire month.

Needless to say, it was a bad month to begin compulsive doomscrolling.

Subscribe now

I became more active on social media during period to find out more information about the vaccination process. 

Mindless scrolling accelerated. And then I was caught up in the frenzy over the Israel-Palestine conflict, then the terrible LRT Kelana Jaya line crash where hundreds were wounded, and then, the outrage that followed. Somehow, I managed to poke gender pronoun activists on Twitter at the same time. I must have scrolled and read hundreds of angry, hate-filled tweets in May.  

After a couple of weeks I had it. Mentally exhausted, I deleted Twitter from my smartphone. Hopefully, for good this time.

This whole story illustrated the fact that taking in too much information can impact your mental health in a bad way. Maybe you’re bothered by it too and want a way out from the mindless consumption of information.

My latest essay, How’s your information diet?, is the result of months of research, so I hope it’ll give you an insight on how to overcome the deluge of information we’re facing today. 

Read the Essay

Meanwhile, vaccination, Hunger Games style

Initially, there was a lot of vaccine hesitancy over the AstraZeneca vaccine in Malaysia, so the government made it available on a “first come first served” basis. What did you know, apparently while some folks were turning down AstraZeneca, a lot of people wanted it. A lot.

Unfortunately, the website was buggy. I only succeeded after more than half an hour of trying. When I got a vaccination slot, I felt a weird mixture of happiness and guilt. Everyone in my family got it except my brother, who could not pass the website’s buggy protocols.

A question most Malaysians moaned in May: Why make it so difficult to get vaccinated??

Well, at least the vaccination process itself was pretty smooth:

Thanks for reading this far. See you soon!

Elizabeth