substack is fascist. what comes next?

Hello dear ones,

Lately, I’ve been noticing myself spiraling about the politics of accepting money through Substack. Like many others, I am currently unable to afford a Substack alternative. However, I am also aware that the founders of this platform have enabled and monetized the presence of nazis in this space.

One of the primary forces in the rise of facism has been Western tech companies, which deploy liberal and fascist propaganda across the globe to maintain the status quo, manufacturing consent for countless genocides in Sudan, Congo, Palestine, and amerika. Predominantly Black neighborhoods throughout the U.S. continue to be poisoned by pollution from AI, and Congolese people are enslaved1 to mine cobalt for Apple, Samsung, and Sony, while their lands are plundered by Western imperialism.

As tech executives, Substack’s founders have shown no regard for a world beyond the colonial, capitalist society they’ve build their careers within. Because Substack collects 10% of all revenue, the founders materially benefit from white supremacy, anti-Blackness, misogyny, and xenophobia, by promoting fascist rhetoric that actively endangers the safety of myself and (disproportionately) the safety of my Black and brown comrades. As the bigotry of nazis is allowed unchecked across Substack, African creators — and other creators throughout the Global South — are banned from being paid for their work due to the colonial architecture of Stripe.

These are the reasons I cite for only accepting payments via my personal pay-links in the email2 I send to readers who who’ve kindly pledged me funds over Substack. I’ve tried including my paylinks in my essays as well, but this has been to little to no success.

My politics remain unwavering, but my circumstances have changed. I’m at the end of my savings, yet the cost of healthcare, food, and rent continues to rise. As a severely disabled person who is unable to work, writing between flare ups is the only way I can make some of the funds needed to afford basic necessities and compensate the caregivers who keep me alive.

This situation is imperfect, because the circumstances are violent. Accountability happens in community, so I want to be vocal about my politics, and the stakes of receiving money over Substack.

After a lot of deliberation, I am considering momentarily accepting funds on this platform, while contributing an additional 10% of all pledges to the mutual aid campaigns of my Black and brown comrades. With enough support, I plan to use these funds to migrate to another platform (whose politics are not antithetical to my own). I hope to find a site that will allow me to import all my subscriptions and subscribers, because I want to keep growing with and alongside this community. Although I am considering offering paid subscriptions for those who have the means to compensate me for my work, none of my writing would be paywalled. In this hypothetical, once I can afford my own blog — I thereafter plan to turn paid subscriptions off on Substack.

The current tech landscape is informed by long lineages of colonialism, white supremacy, and anti-Blackness, in which Black and brown people throughout amerika and the Global South continue to be enslaved for labor, while unceded Indigenous land is depleted by imperial extraction. The colonial model of stripe, and Substack’s use of this exploitative architecture to fund their distribution of fascist rhetoric only reinforces pre-established systemic violences. I fear efforts to ban nazis from Substack attempt to reform an inherently fascist space — a tactic weaponized to keep us controlled and complacent, rather than demanding (creating) a world (and alternative spaces) that better meet our collective needs.

As someone privileged by my own proximity to whiteness, I intend to migrate to another platform in a rejection of Substack’s alignment with facism. I highly encourage other creators and readers to do the same, for the sake of investing our energy in spaces that care about our collective stories, survival, and wellbeing. That being said, the countless Black and brown creators who’ve built community here matter, and deserve to be compensated for their labor.

I call on Substack to provide additional revenue alternatives for writers from Africa and other regions throughout the Global South, whose work is currently being widely exploited across this site without pay. Public pressure can, and should, be mobilized to hold the founders of Substack “accountable” to this decision. And for those who have the capacity, I believe we still have a duty to combat fascism wherever we find it, including here. However, I also hold the personal opinion that nazis being widely hosted across this platform reflect deeply structural issues which will remain unchanged in this space beyond performative moral posturing due to the politics of Substack’s founders. As someone who is considering accepting funds for their writing, I don’t want the platform I publish my work on to weaponize their cut of revenue for a fascist agenda. Hence, I feel obligated to leave (although I intend to keep myself receptive to feedback).

While I argue that Black and brown creators should be compensated for their labor, this argument itself is a byproduct of living under capitalism, and still binds us to the material realities that enable the exploitation of our Black and brown kin. A culture of mutual aid that believes we’re deserving of care, regardless of our output, is what’s needed for our collective survival as we mobilize against capitalism.

I highly recommend ismatu gwendolyn’s essay, “The strip club did indeed make me bonkers.” In an in-depth analysis of “madness” as “deviance” and divestment from the rules of our current capitalist socioeconomic system, they describe how their experiences as a sex worker led them to imagine and embody alternative realities, including a reality where they have sovereignty over their own time. As ismatu reminds us, the dollar is one of infinteeee currencies, made real solely by belief. When you cease to comply with the logic of capitalism, “it crumbles completely” (ismatu, 2025). (You can compensate ismatu for their labor here.)

What happens when we instead build infrastustracture that affirms our right to live, simply because we exist? I ultimately dream of a world where our worth is not bound to money, or productivity. Becoming severely disabled has helped to liberate me from the constraints of capitalist thought, in which my value is no longer tethered to my ability to “work,”3 but my relational existence with my community, and the land (I matter simply because I am here. You deserve life, care, and love for this reason precisely). I exist outside of the current economy, which doesn’t value our full humanity, especially for those of us who cannot “labor” legibly under capitalism. The economy I envision is one that honors ancestral Indigenous lifeways. In this future, land is returned to Indigenous peoples globally, and we learn from Indigenous wisdom and governance to practice regenerative, accountable care, in which all of our material needs can be holistically met by the collective.

Capitalism is a recent colonial construct. Other worlds are possible. Portals open every time we confront what hurts, and dare to imagine, then actualize, our healing.

Black and brown creators throughout the globe have expressed a commitment to developing virtual ecosystems that adamantly reject and combat white supremacy, anti-Blackness, misogyny, and xenophobia. This too will be a collective effort. I am dedicated to the labor it will take to materialize these shared visions, and connect with those who desire a world beyond capitalism.

Although I’m still uncertain about what comes next, when I think of the community I’ve found on Substack, I feel a sense of hope.

The wellbeing of my Black and brown comrades will always be my priority. I offer this essay as an invitation for dialogue.

Your feedback is extremely important to me. For anyone who has the capacity to offer their feelings, critiques, concerns, or ideas, I’m curious to hear how you’ve navigated the political ramifications of being paid through Substack? What are your thoughts on my next steps forward, and the call to action I’ve described? Are there any alternative or additional ideas that you’d like to add? What does it mean to decolonize the internet or practice virtual harm reduction? Do you know of any online spaces or tools that are more aligned with our politics? I welcome responses from my readers especially, but also do not ask or expect this labor from anyone.

As someone with severe M.E. I often lack the ability to respond to people’s comments, but please know I read, cherish, and hold all your words so closely. Any critiques and thoughts offered will be taken into consideration.

However things unfold, please know — this community is everything to me. I’m grateful for the opportunity to be held accountable to my own politics, and to deepen our understanding of each other. Thank you for trusting me with something as precious as your presence and your time. What a gift it is to be here with you.

With much love and solidarity,

Solenne

more of my work can be accessed on instagram @/lovelettertothesunn. for those who would like to support my writing monetarily and have the means to do so away from this platform, my v 3 n m 0 & c a s h a p p are solenneh. thank you dearly

reference list coming soon…

a black and white image from “The Battle of Algiers” (1966). a young femme presenting person with long hair faces the mirror. an older femme presenting person is leaning over in front of them and two other people stand by their side. text at the bottom of the screen reads, “remember, we are at war against colonialism.” (i have yet to watch this film, but it’s on my list)

image of aged yellow paper, with text in capital letters that reads, “i have an internal shrine. it glows and is very warm.” sourced from pinterest, credit unknown