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In a recent essay in The New York Times, the prolific blogger Fredrik deBoer wrote about the dearth of entertainment for grown-ups. He likened consumption of today’s popular movies to a diet of junk food. Just as a regime of ultraprocessed foodstuffs—high in calories, fat, salt and added sugars and laced with flavor enhancers and thickeners—can lead to obesity and diabetes due to a lack of nutritional value, a steady diet of media that is thematically shallow and narratively simplistic can result in a kind of intellectual and aesthetic malnutrition.

To my mind, DeBoer is among the most incisive, insightful and stimulating cultural critics of our time. A self-described Marxist, his writings are remarkably heterodox and his opinions are notably unpredictable. I find his intellectual independence and his rejection of political tribalism inspiring.

In his published essays, books and Substack columns, he decries:

  • The excesses and contradictions of “woke” culture, especially how it stifles open debate and creates a culture of fear, where individuals are afraid to express dissenting opinions.
  • The progressive, social justice left’s tendency to focus on identity issues at the expense of economic inequality and class struggle and its lack of structure, accountable leadership, message discipline and concrete goals.
  • The mainstream media’s focus on sensationalism, its tendency to prioritize clickbait over substantive journalism and its use of selective coverage and framing to shape public perception and discourse.
  • Higher education’s neoliberal bent, including its treatment of learning as a market commodity rather than a public good, its prioritization of financial considerations over educational or intellectual goals, the proliferation of administrative roles, exploitation of adjuncts, emphasis on vocationalism, treatment of research as a revenue stream and adoption of corporate management practices.
  • A growing illiberalism among many college students and some faculty members and the threats it poses to free expression and academic freedom.
  • The assumption, in many educational institutions, that students are profoundly fragile emotionally and that they should therefore be treated paternalistically.

He repeatedly asks whether the prevailing social justice discourse genuinely addresses the needs of marginalized groups or if it is primarily symbolic and performative?

He, like the Stony Brook sociologist Musa al-Gharbi and The New Yorker’s Jay Caspian Kang, fears that social justice discourse in media and academia, with its emphasis on inclusion, representation and identity, stresses symbolic gestures over tangible, material improvements in the lives of the less fortunate.

Academic discussions about privilege may make headlines but wind up overshadowing the more pressing economic and structural issues that disproportionately affect marginalized communities, like poverty, housing insecurity and lack of access to quality healthcare and education.

He calls for a more realistic approach to education—one that acknowledges differences in abilities, interests and motivations and that creates space for a diversity of talents, not just academic achievement.

Rather than pushing for universal academic success, deBoer favors a system that values vocational skills as well as intellectual labor, emotional intelligence, artistic creativity and other forms of human capability, providing different paths to success for different students.

By equating intelligence with worth, society puts immense pressure on students, parents and teachers to “fix” students who struggle academically, rather than accept a diversity of talents and potential paths to success.

Additionally, deBoer calls for a more pragmatic approach to politics that prioritizes tangible outcomes over ideological purity and that is willing to engage with those who do not share their views in order to achieve meaningful progress.

He supports a class-conscious approach to social justice with a sustained focus on economic power structures and the systemic hardships faced by the working class, irrespective of their race or gender identity.

Perhaps most important is his critique of contemporary mental health discourse, especially the tendency to treat it as just another identity—much like race, ethnicity, gender or sexual orientation—that should be celebrated.

Too often, he fears, the complexities and realities of severe mental illness are oversimplified and misunderstood. Drawing on his own experience with bipolar disorder, he argues that acute mental disorders like schizophrenia are primarily a source of suffering that should be treated seriously and professionally, rather than downplayed or incorporated into identity politics. The reduction of mental illness to an identity obscures the severity of the condition and the need for effective, sometimes aggressive, treatment, including medication and long-term therapy.


DeBoer’s writings, marked by an impressive intellectual rigor and remarkable ideological independence, force readers to confront a host of uncomfortable truths.

  • The social justice left’s elitism and disconnect from genuine working-class concerns.
  • The left’s moral posturing and focus on internal purity and moral righteousness rather than on building the practical power needed to achieve real change.
  • The unrealistic and harmful assumption that all students, regardless of their innate abilities, interests or motivation, can and should be brought to the same level of academic achievement and how this sets up educators and students for failure.
  • The tendency to romanticize severe mental illness, downplay the social contributors to mental health issues and place the burden of managing mental illness on individual families.
  • The pathologizing and overmedicalization of people’s everyday struggles with anxiety and depression, transforming them into clinical issues that must be diagnosed and treated.

His writings provide a necessary critique of the conventional wisdom that has come to dominate public discourse, forcing readers to confront uncomfortable truths about inequality, human nature and intellectual freedom. Through his prolific essays, deBoer dismantles a series of illusions that surround the American left, educational reform and mental health discourse, offering a clear-eyed view of the systemic failures that limit true equality and opportunity in society and advocating for a more honest and radical vision of social justice.

In an era of increasing ideological conformity and echo chambers, deBoer’s critique of the political left’s failures—from education to identity politics—offers a refreshing and necessary alternative to mainstream narratives.


DeBoer is one of many heterodox thinkers whose writings appear on Substack, the online platform that allows writers to create, distribute and monetize newsletters. Launched in 2017, Substack enables creators to directly reach their audience via email and the web, without the need for traditional publishing intermediaries. Writers can offer both free and paid subscriptions, giving them control over their content and financial model.

Why do these writers publish on Substack instead of a more established venue? Partly, it has to do with creative control. Substack allows writers full ownership over their content and editorial decisions, unlike traditional media outlets where editors shape a writer’s work. Not bound by editorial calendars, word limits or traditional formats, authors are free to explore niche topics or address controversial subjects that are not aligned with the agenda of a mainstream publication.

Platforms like Substack also allow authors to directly monetize their writing through paid subscriptions, rather than rely on freelance rates, advertising or publication royalties. This model is particularly appealing to established writers with a loyal readership.

Some writers, like the historian Heather Cox Richardson, make significant incomes by building a dedicated subscriber base. This strategy is particularly attractive at a time when the rates paid to freelancers are declining.

The rise of publishing platforms like Substack signals a seismic shift in the way content is created, distributed and consumed, which mirrors the significant transformations happening in television and movies.

Just as YouTube, Netflix and Hulu disrupted the traditional TV and movie industries by allowing independent creators and small studios to bypass traditional gatekeepers (like network executives or movie studios), Substack has done something similar in the publishing world. Writers can now directly publish and monetize their content without relying on traditional media institutions such as newspapers, magazines or publishing houses.

This decentralization empowers creators, allowing them to own their intellectual property and engage directly with audiences. Creators no longer need intermediaries to reach a wide audience.

This direct-to-consumer model has changed the economics of publishing and entertainment. Writers, like independent TV and movie producers, can now build dedicated audiences and generate revenue directly from subscribers rather than rely on ad-driven models or external publishers.

In the same way that YouTube stars, TikTok influencers and independent filmmakers build brands through their content, Substack encourages writers to cultivate personal brands. Writers on Substack appeal to niche audiences that prefer specific perspectives or personalities over generalized content. This trend reflects a shift toward the creator economy, where individuals leverage their personal identities and unique voices to build loyal audiences.

Much as some streaming services cater to specialized tastes by offering cult genres or foreign-language dramas, Substack allows writers to explore specialized or underrepresented topics that may not be commercially viable in the mainstream media. Substack enables writers to thrive with smaller but more dedicated audiences.

A focus on niche audiences is reshaping how content is developed, whether in publishing or entertainment. In the absence of traditional gatekeepers, writers on Substack can tackle more controversial or unorthodox topics without being censored by editors or advertisers.


The rise of the Substack model for publishing has fundamentally altered the landscape for authors, publishers and readers. The pluses include greater creative freedom and independence, the ability to generate income without relying on ad revenue, advances from publishers or media contracts and the ability to cultivate a direct relationship with the audience and publish works quickly without waiting for editorial reviews, marketing schedules or the formalities associated with traditional publishing.

However, there are minuses as well. Many writers may struggle to build or maintain a large enough subscriber base to sustain their writing full-time. The self-publishing model requires constant promotion, reader engagement and frequent publishing, and the demands of frequent publication, audience engagement, self-promotion and financial insecurity can lead to burnout.

Also, writers must self-edit and self-manage their content, without the scrutiny of professional editors and fact-checkers, and as a result quality probably suffers. For authors who don’t already have an established audience, breaking through the noise can be very difficult.

But perhaps the biggest downside is subscription overload. With each writer charging for their content, readers may experience subscription fatigue, whereby paying for multiple individual writers becomes expensive. This limits the number of writers that any one reader subscribes to, thus making it harder for newer writers to succeed.

The long-term viability of the unbundled, direct-to-consumer Substack model and its impact on traditional bundled approaches, like magazines and newspapers, remains to be seen. We don’t yet know whether Substack’s subscription model is sustainable. Nor do we know whether traditional print mediawith a diversity of voices; curated, edited content; and fact-checkingwill lose audience share as the self-publishing model siphons off talent and readers turn to specialized newsletters tailored to their interests and point of view.

Like all forms of change, this revolution in publishing involves trade-offs. The newspaper industry’s decline has contributed to a sharp decrease in local news coverage and investigative reporting. The rise of streaming services has resulted in a generation that is less familiar than their predecessors with classic black-and-white films.

In the end, both bundled and unbundled models may well coexist, with each serving different audience needs; Substack may thrive for niche creators and dedicated readers, while traditional media evolves to maintain relevance by offering more personalized services.

But pressure from Substack has already prompted far-reaching changes in more traditional publications. Newspapers have expanded the number of opinion columns. They’ve hired high-profile social media figures like Taylor Lorenz and Ezra Klein. They’re encouraging journalists to become more visible, whether on X, the former Twitter, or on radio or television talk shows. They’re spending a lot of money on video.

But with the exception of The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal, most major newspapers are losing vast sums of money.

Meanwhile, many major magazines, like The Atlantic, The New Yorker and The New York Review of Books, are experimenting with new business models and diversifying their revenue streams. Some have introduced “membership” programs that provide additional perks, such as exclusive content, events, newsletters or merchandise. Others now offer sponsored content that fits seamlessly with their editorial style, providing advertisers a subtler way to reach readers.

Magazines, especially those in niches like fashion, technology or home goods, partner with brands, feature their products in articles and earn a commission on sales generated through affiliate links.

Publishers are also hosting in-person or virtual events that range from large-scale conferences to intimate speaker series. The New Yorker has a well-known annual festival, and Fast Company hosts innovation events. Some magazines, including The New York Review, offer seminars, educational courses, workshops and webinars on topics relevant to their readership. For example, Condé Nast has offered courses on photography and fashion.


The Substack model, which emphasizes direct consumer engagement, content flexibility and niche monetization, offers a possible framework for universities looking to innovate and expand their educational reach. Here’s how higher education institutions might adapt and evolve based on lessons from Substack:

  1. Encourage faculty to cultivate a public profile. Universities could encourage faculty to establish public-facing personas, similar to Substack writers, allowing them to engage broader audiences and enhance both their own and the institution’s reputation. Platforms like newsletters, podcasts or blogs can serve as tools for faculty to share insights, attract attention and foster intellectual thought leadership. By elevating faculty expertise beyond the classroom, universities can expand their influence and engage the public on a larger scale.
  2. Help faculty monetize content with revenue-sharing models. Universities can create revenue streams by helping faculty monetize their content through paid newsletters, exclusive podcasts or behind-the-scenes research briefings, similar to the way Substack enables creators to generate income from niche audiences. A revenue sharing model could provide financial support for departments while giving faculty more control over their public engagement.
  3. Hire faculty with public visibility. Faculty who are able to translate scholarly work for a broader audience should be valued, not dismissed as “popularizers.” Such academics can elevate the public profile of the university, bridge the gap between academia and the public, and attract a larger audience to the institution’s offerings.
  4. Promote faculty in public discourses. Providing infrastructure, training and institutional support can help faculty engage in public debates, publish in popular media outlets and share their expertise on pressing societal issues. This approach could strengthen the university’s voice in the broader public discourse while making academic research more accessible.
  5. Target broader, nonacademic audiences. Universities can adopt interest-based online programs targeting niche audiences. Examples include workshops on positive psychology, creative nonfiction writing or leadership development. This taps into the demand for personal and professional development and practical, non-degree-based learning, enabling universities to reach beyond traditional student populations.
  6. Partner with school districts and other organizations to provide professional development and workforce training. Campuses might leverage their academic resources, expertise and infrastructure to meet the needs of educators and workers in various fields through tailored professional development, workforce training and continuing education, while facilitating ongoing collaboration between campuses and working professionals, enabling them to share best practices and innovate together.
  7. Offer microcredentials and specialized courses. Aligning faculty expertise with market needs, universities can offer short, specialized courses or microcredentials for working professionals and lifelong learners. By conducting rigorous market research, institutions can identify key areas for growth and develop targeted programs that meet these needs.
  8. Adopt a premium content model. Like Substack’s tiered pricing, universities can offer free content to attract audiences, while charging for exclusive content like lectures by renowned faculty, access to specialized research or industry-focused workshops. This model would allow for broad engagement while generating revenue from premium offerings.
  9. Promote faculty-led innovation. Just as Substack encourages creators to experiment, universities can give faculty the freedom to innovate with new forms of teaching and content delivery. Faculty could experiment with creating their own learning communities or interdisciplinary courses or even develop niche programs tailored to specific student interests or societal needs.
  10. Develop direct-to-consumer programs. Institutions could explore offering content, courses and lectures on a subscription basis, bypassing traditional enrollment models. This approach allows universities to reach learners who are interested in lifelong learning or professional development but do not want to commit to full degree programs.
  11. Rethink academic publishing models. Encouraging faculty to engage in more agile, informal publishing of research and ideas—whether through blogs, digital essays or online debates—would help make academic work more accessible and responsive to contemporary issues. This shift would enable faster academic contributions to public discourse and encourage real-time engagement with evolving topics.

By embracing the Substack model of direct engagement, content flexibility and niche monetization, universities have the opportunity to evolve into more dynamic, responsive and financially sustainable institutions, better equipped to meet the needs of today’s learners.

Steven Mintz is professor of history at the University of Texas at Austin and the author, most recently, of The Learning-Centered University: Making College a More Developmental, Transformational and Equitable Experience.

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