杏吧原创

ONE of the breakout social media stories of the past year has been Substack, a start-up that specialises in helping writers get paid for their newsletters. But in recent months, the company has become infamous for secretly providing financial incentives to a small group of people to write some of the biggest ones on its platform.

It was the kind of tale we are used to in the gig economy age. In 2017, Substack was a baby start-up on shaky ground. Nobody was sure newsletters could compete with Twitter or other platforms.

But Substack鈥檚 founders thought pay-for-play newsletters could be a place for writers to make a living outside the crumbling media industry: authors could offer their thoughts directly to subscribers and Substack would take a percentage of every subscription. Nobody would report to anybody, but they would all make money.

Substack quickly pulled away from the social media app pack by landing some high-profile writers like author Daniel M. Lavery, former editor of hugely popular website The Toast. Then Substack turboboosted the career of mild-mannered academic Heather Cox Richardson, whose 鈥淟etters from an American鈥� became a must-read for people trying to understand the Trump presidency.

During its first few years of operation, Substack proudly awarded nearly 100 grants and advances of anywhere from $1000 to $100,000 to a wide range of authors, trying to encourage them to build up their newsletter businesses.

With many readers willing to pay $5 or more a month to their favourite writers, it seemed like a viable economic alternative for freelancers. All you had to do was sign up, write what you wanted and money would roll in.

By 2020, the company was the talk of the media industry, spawning puff pieces about its biggest earners, as well as .

Still, there was no doubt that Substack was gaining traction. With the pandemic keeping us indoors, more people were willing to spend money on entertaining newsletters. Apparently it wasn鈥檛 enough.

At some unknown point, the firm started a programme called Substack Pro to attract even more high-profile writers by offering financial incentives that act like salaries for the first year someone is on the platform. But it didn鈥檛 reveal who was part of this programme.

Previously, Substack had offered advances without hiding them. What changed? It鈥檚 not clear. A few writers, like essayist Matthew Yglesias, chose to publicly reveal that Substack paid them these hefty Pro advances. Many, however, are paid by the company confidentially.

鈥淪ubstack gained traction during the pandemic as people stuck indoors wanted entertaining newsletters鈥�

I found this troubling, and wrote about it in my very last newsletter on Substack, calling the lack of transparency about who was being paid a 鈥渟cam鈥�. My problem isn鈥檛 that Substack pays writers 鈥� hooray for paying writers! 鈥� and it isn鈥檛 how much they are paid.

The problem is that Substack claims to be a neutral platform, but at the same time, it has coaxed certain writers to join. This gives it the privileges of a traditional media outlet to foster and amplify specific kinds of writing and perspectives 鈥� without the accountability of one.

This is an extremely rare situation in publishing. Media outlets from the BBC to YouTube pay people to create content for them, and we can glean their editorial positions based on who they pay.

We can discern whether a publication has a political perspective, for instance, or a scientific bent. Even on a social media platform like YouTube, where anyone can post videos, paid YouTubers are clearly marked, so it is obvious when something you are watching is independently produced versus officially supported by YouTube.

On Substack, which bills itself as a home for 鈥渋ndependent writers鈥�, there is no such transparency. Substack Pro writers appear in the same way as any other writer. This makes it impossible to assess who Substack endorses and who it doesn鈥檛.

After I wrote about this problem, a number of people explained to me that this is 鈥渏ust the way media is鈥�. It鈥檚 certainly true that a tiny group of people get paid the most money, but what鈥檚 new here is that Substack doesn鈥檛 say it is part of the publishing industry at all. Hiding behind a false veneer of independence, it is doing what many media companies have always done: financially endorsing people with the help of subscriber money. But unlike other organisations, Substack won鈥檛 reveal who.

I reached out to Substack for comment on the record, but received no reply.