I’ve been thinking a lot about online communities since leaving Substack. If there is anything that gives Substack an edge in the blogging and newsletter world, it is its sense of community. So much so, I felt a tinge of regret this week after leaving the platform.
If you’ve been blogging a while, you may remember our old-fashioned ways of maintaining a sense of community. There used to be countless forums, for all ages and niches. There was SITS Girls (The Secret to Success Is Support), which blended blog advice with community and sponsorship opportunities. It eventually became Sway Group and dissolved its online community (although it’s still offering opps for influencers and bloggers).
BlogHer was another that hosted a seemingly exclusive community supporting professional bloggers. It’s also still around, but not the same anchor it once was.
There were also community forums for 20-something bloggers and 30-something bloggers. Writer’s Digest used to have its own community board and forum (two separate places!) to support members and give people a chance to share their blog.
And I’m probably only scratching the surface.
Most of these platforms were around before there were countless social media options. It was all before influencers, coaches, and experts were so eager to share insights, often for a price. It was also during a time when being a blogger was being an influencer. It was also an era when turning your blog into a book was a possible dream that inspired us all (although now it’s Substack-to-books?).
Alongside these communities was Twitter (before it became X). This was actually the platform that inspired me to start my own blog. It was easy to find blogs, either through hashtags or other supportive posts, and follow and encourage each other. There was even a third-party platform for sharing and support called Triberr. You linked up your Twitter, shared others’ blog posts, and they shared yours.
Over time, all those blogging communities went away. I actually think the rise of so many made it hard to be active on any one in particular. When they disappeared, it’s a bit like the department stores disappearing. When those anchors were gone, the whole structure of the mall fell apart. Now, like malls, the blogging community has disappeared too.
Then add to the mix that Google took away its Reader, which let you add bloggers to an RSS feed. With that gone, it became harder for people to even keep up with blogs. Sure, there are RSS options now like Newsblur, but it’s not exactly bringing us all together. Even Twitter changed and became X and drove us all away with its poor management of divisive talk and horrid conspiracy theorists allowed to run amok.
Add to the mix Facebook groups of bloggers showing support and sharing advice. Now, most of those groups are gone. I’m down to just one actively interested in supporting old-fashioned bloggers, like me. Not to mention, Facebook itself is now the dinosaur among social media platforms.
Today, there are more social media platforms abound. Much like having too many streaming platforms to choose from (leading to streaming fatigue), having more social media platforms just means more noise. Just a bunch of places to feel invisible.
The closest I’ve come to is Threads. Yet, even then, it just feels like a place to get attention with clever posts and comments. I don’t have a sense of community there. Twitter, now X, is around but not at all the same. LinkedIn just seems to be a hub of “thought leaders” either talking about how bad AI is or defending AI (or is that just my feed?). Instagram is its usual self: a code I’ve never been able to crack.
There are still weekly blog themes and check-ins around (another way we found each other, by the way. I even used to run one myself!). But I wonder how many of us follow blogs the same way anymore. Or even write blogs like we used to. They used to be more personal and far less about algorithms or SEO.
Now we have Substack, reminding me a bit of what used to feel like the blogging community. Yet, with the introduction of Substack Notes, it became another social media platform and algorithm. I found it far too hard to compete with the noise. I think that is what deterred me. I find self-promotion exhausting, and the one thing I don’t want to add to my day is more social media.
But Substack is one of the few places out there that mimic, or at least try to mimic, how bloggers found each other in the past. And people can recommend each other, which is another great way of getting followers.
I have a theory, though, that with the rise of celebrity Substacks, it will end up going the way of the dinosaur. It’s not a niche platform anymore.
But I wonder if there’s any room for old-fashioned blog support. I often found fellow writers that way, but…how do you encourage support without it becoming transactional? Or simply yet another empty like or follow that wasn’t coming from someone who really cared to read what you wrote?
And isn’t that the whole issue of Substack? I get writers should be paid, and I do support that. Except it’s a little tiring to hit paywalls and still feel part of a community. Because that is, in theory, why Substack stands out: it’s community.
I still wonder if I made the right call about Substack. Mainly because it seemed much easier for people to find me. Yet, as I have discovered, all good things come to an end. Substack will change too. Maybe that’s why “owning your platform” is really the better way to go.
