Platform capitalism always destroys what it claims to enable

Dear reader, today I am writing to let you know that I have switched the publication you know as our collective futures from Substack to Ghost. That also means that your subscription to this publication automagically recides now outside of the confines of Substack. You can also find it under the nifty new URL: collectivefutures.blog.

The decision to migrate from Substack to Ghost represents a bit more than a technical preference. It highlights the structural impossibility of aligning creator interests (especially small-audience creators like me) with venture capital imperatives.

Substack's recent moves reveal the predictable trajectory of venture-backed platforms. After raising $100 million in Series C, the company has implemented mandatory Apple in-app purchases, inflating subscription prices by 30% for iOS users while simultaneously destroying data portability. Writers can no longer export their paid subscribers when they leave the platform because the billing relationship now belongs to Apple, not the creator.

This inevitably becomes a downgrade from what made Substack initially attractive in the first place: writer autonomy. It previously allowed creators to connect their own Stripe accounts, maintaining ownership of customer relationships. Writers could migrate their entire subscriber base to competing platforms at will. This portability created genuine competition between newsletter platforms.

The elimination of data portability follows a documented pattern. As Tyler Denk demonstrates in his analysis, exploitative platforms follow a three-step process: capture end users; increase platform dependency; extract higher fees. Patreon increased its take rate from 5% to 12%. Gumroad went from 4% to 10%. Etsy moved from 3.5% to 6.5%. Substack's current 10% fee will inevitably increase once creators cannot easily leave.

On the content side, Substack has quietly implemented algorithmic changes that reduce subscriber growth by up to 90% for many writers. According to Sarah Fay's correspondence with Substack support, the platform now prioritizes "better pairing readers with their interests" over helping writers build audiences. This euphemistic language here does a lot of work but conceals the reality that the platform now decides which creators deserve visibility based on their potential to generate paid subscriptions.

The algorithm now functions as a disciplinary mechanism, punishing creators who produce unmarketable content or fail to convert free readers into paying customers. The platform maintains a facade of creative freedom while systematically shooting down creators who cannot generate sufficient revenue.

This algorithmic curation is automating editorial control. Substack markets itself as a neutral provider while at the same time it exercises editorial power through muddied computational logic. The company avoids any legal and reputational costs while maintaining control over creator visibility and success.

And then there's the Nazi problem... Substack's refusal to remove Nazi publications seems to create a weird alignment. The company speaks about content moderation as a free speech issue. To the untrained eye this positions Substack as a defender of open discourse. This rhetorical gymnastic obscures the content policy beneath the surface: they will drown creators for low engagement but not for promoting mass harm.

This approach inevitably attracts writers who mistake Substack's profit-driven tolerance for principled commitment to free expression. The platform benefits from this controversy as it positions itself as anti-establishment, and at the same time implements increasingly restrictive monetization requirements.

Can there be ethical platforms under capitalism?

The problem goes beyond Substack's specific decisions, of course. Venture-backed platforms cannot maintain policies that favor creators. Investors demand returns that exceed what sustainable, equitable business models could provide. A billion-dollar valuation requires extracting value from creators at rates incompatible with any noble interests their owners might have.

Ghost has a different approach, not because of having superior ethics but because of different financial constraints. As a bootstrapped company, Ghost avoids both venture capital pressures and direct dependency on US tech (being established in Singapore). The company generates revenue through hosting fees (Ghost Pro), aligning its interests with platform stability rather than maximum extraction. They also provide open source code for anyone who wants to self-host (though this is a far more technical route).

Moving platforms requires acknowledging some uncomfortable truths about creative work under contemporary capitalism. Writers who built substantial audiences on Substack face real costs from platforming locking and inevitably migration. They lose money due to algorithmic curation, network effects, and integrated payment processing. Some will experience significant audience shrinkage.

This is the success of platform capitalism in creating dependency. The convenience and growth Substack provided came with hidden obligations later on. Creators who accepted these benefits must now decide whether maintaining principles justifies economic sacrifice. They, of course, have to decide whether the skewed 'free-speech' this platform provides also aligns with those principles.

The decision to migrate despite these costs is not easy. It however comes with a principled refusal towards platform discipline. It acknowledges that creator autonomy requires accepting reduced efficiency and growth potential. Writers must choose between optimizing for audience size and maintaining control over their work and the relationships with their audience (plus take a stance on whom they are against).

Beyond platforms

The migration to Ghost provides temporary relief, but it is not even close to a permanent resolution. All platforms operating under capitalism face similar pressures. Ghost's current alignment with creator interests reflects their specific financial structure, not their inherent virtues. Changes in ownership, funding, or market conditions could potentially replicate a trajectory similar to Substack's in the future.

A real solution requires moving beyond platform dependency entirely. Writers need to develop direct relationships with readers, and have these relationships secured in an interoperable way. This approach of course doesn't come with caveats. It requires more technical knowledge and marketing effort but provides genuine independence from platform decisions. It potentially requires collective ownership of these structures, and ways of suspending diversion of such ownership in the future should monetary conditions change.

Principles require sacrifice. The comfortable illusion that platforms serve creator interests dissolves when venture capital demands knock the door. Writers must decide whether to accept increasing exploitation or bear the costs of independence.

And the audience needs to find alternative ways to turn up.