Is Substack the return of the internet’s lost intimacy?

Substack is reclaiming the internet’s quiet corners, giving writers and readers a slower, more intentional way to connect, and we are here for it.

Somewhere between the rise of short-form videos, the algorithmic sameness of every feed, and the never-ending need to stay visible, the internet has kinda lost its quiet corners. Most platforms today have begun to mirror one another, pushing the same features and built around the same idea of performance. While it works wonders for the major players, the repetition and noise still leave the audience exhausted. Which is why audiences want to divert to other platforms like Substack, prompted by the urge to slow down, makes total sense. Substack found its niche, especially last year, among this bite-sized content-consuming audience, providing them with the intimacy that the internet once promised but eventually drowned in noise. This rise feels less like a trend and more like a response, a collective shift to find meaning in a space that’s been running on quick trends and clatter.

Ever since creating and reading shifted from printed pages to digital screens, creators have been told to keep up and adapt to whatever new platform promises more visibility. Over the past few years, most conversations online have circled around how to stand out and make their brand seen in a space that rewards activity. Video content became the obvious answer as it grabs attention, performs well, and delivers impressive numbers, but the fleeting attention is not sustainable. 

It doesn't come as a surprise to see well-known journalists, authors, and cultural voices returning to slower, more deliberate spaces like Substack. Caring very little about virality on such platforms, these authors are looking for a more enduring sense of connection with quality subscribers instead. 

Also Read: May this be the sign you needed to finally start writing on Substack!

Here's why we think Substack found its audience:

Things Substack does better 

What makes Substack’s current popularity so interesting is how many different forces are converging to push writers toward it. The platform has become a full-fledged publishing ecosystem at a time when creators are frustrated with unreliable platforms. Medium’s constant algorithm shifts, sudden pay cuts, and an overall decline in stability have sent some of its biggest writers looking for alternatives, and Substack has become the obvious landing spot. Part of that is the economics, as the platform offers a subscription model that actually rewards depth over clickbait, where turning on payments after a few free posts gives writers 90 per cent of their revenue, no ads or randomness involved. But the bigger shift is cultural: readers in 2025 are more willing to pay for work that feels considered.

Substack’s growth reflected that appetite, when the platform crossed five million paid subscriptions in March 2025 and continued to grow. Unlike traditional social platforms, it has managed to turn growth into opportunity rather than saturation. Its recommendation system actively surfaces writers to readers with similar interests. Its Notes feature creates a kind of curated town square, allowing cross-promotions between publications that can grow newcomers by hundreds of subscribers a month. For many writers, that mix of intimacy, discoverability, and creator-first economics has created a rare situation where the platform feels both established and still full of room for new voices.

The return of digital patronage

Readers on the platform are funding people they feel personally invested in. How common it’s become to see $5–$20/month subscriptions framed as “supporting someone’s rent” or “keeping independent journalism alive.” It’s closer to medieval patronage than modern consumerism, and that emotional framing is a big part of why conversion rates often outperform even larger platforms. 

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Substack (@substack)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Substack (@substack)In many ways, Substack is recreating the energy of early internet communities, like what people did through blog posts, zine collectives, and niche forum culture but with financial scaffolding built in. And at a time when people are exhausted by algorithmic churn, these pockets of genuine enthusiasm are proof that millions of readers are willing to trade dopamine hits for depth and, crucially, willing to pay for the privilege. 

In many ways, Substack is recreating the energy of early internet communities, like what people did through blog posts, zine collectives, and niche forum culture, but with financial scaffolding built in. And at a time when people are exhausted by algorithmic churn, these pockets of genuine enthusiasm are proof that millions of readers are willing to trade dopamine hits for depth and, crucially, willing to pay for the privilege. 

Does Substack feel like the kind of space you’ve been missing online? Tell us in the comments below! 

For more such content, follow us on @socialketchup