In the days of legacy media, the dynamic was simple: they spoke, we listened. It was a technological monarchy where the news anchor sat behind a desk, delivering the truth from on high via a one-way signal. In that era, it was understandable—perhaps even expected—that they wouldn’t give us, the viewers, much thought. We were statistics. We were the product sold to advertisers, not the customers. When they won awards or signed off for the last time, they thanked their mentors, their producers, and the network heads. They never thanked the hand that actually fed them: the silent millions on the other side of the glass.
But the landscape has shifted. Today, many of these same figures have migrated to platforms like Substack, yet they have brought their “Ivory Tower” habits with them. They fail to realize that the technology is no longer a monologue; it is a dialogue. On this platform, the reader is not a statistic; the reader is the investor paying their salary directly.
They want the revenue of a community, but the aloofness of a celebrity. They treat this space like a lecture hall rather than a town square. My response to this new era is governed by a simple law of reciprocity: I have as much time for them as they have for me. If they cannot be bothered to engage with the people who make their independence possible, then I cannot be bothered to read them.
WE&P by: EZorrillaMc&Co
Travel in Life 