Don't worry, Substack, I can wait you out (Day 48)

I'm aghast at how many seemingly ethical actors have chosen to throw in with Substack even after revelations that they are platforming Nazis. If someone locked themselves into the service before--and they've grown dependent on the income from the paid subscriptions--I understand why they've remained. These services don't make it easy to transition away from them, and not everyone has the ability to create their own personalized service. 

But those aren't the only people on Substack, and I'm dismayed to see new or newish people popping up there all the time. This morning, while looking for the blog of one of my favorite authors, I discovered that he recently transitioned to Substack. Just...what? Does Nazi not conjure up images of bigotry and violence that it does for me? Did no one else get the lessons in school about how collaborators and bystanders facilitated them?

I am also unnerved by the sheer number; it's starting to feel like I'm surrounded. It's starting to take on an air of inevitability, as in, "Check my business' Facebook page for information about our hours." I don't have a choice, do I?

No, actually, I do. I'm not the one suffering if I don't subscribe to these people's newsletters, they are (and they can all stop pretending they're fooling anyone by "allowing" you to read their posts as blogs for free: anyone who's been on the internet for over a decade knows that won't last). And as inevitable as Facebook was, as inevitable as Twitter was, as inevitable as Instagram was, they are not now. The momentum had shifted to other platforms--which is something anyone who has been on the internet for five years can tell you. 

There's a universe of people who aren't going to reach me because they've decided to linger in a universe inhabited by Nazis. Well, this is their choice, but I'm going to remember (choices have consequences). And when their audience decides that they don't want to be in a constant state of being their customers, I suspect we'll start seeing a lot of public mea culpas.

The drama--the pageant of passions--is the only thing inevitable on the internet as it is today. I'll just be here, reading my books, wondering when people are going to stop repeating each other's mistakes. 

Bonus: Nazi-free.

Deb in the City