The Substack Podcast

Open Tab: Joanna Coles

Joanna Coles has spent her formidable career at the center of media: London’s Fleet Street in the ’80s, New York magazine, Marie Claire, Cosmopolitan, and eventually the chief content officer role overseeing Hearst’s entire global magazine portfolio. She knows intimately what legacy media organizations have looked like at every stage of their life cycle and spent years “managing decline” from the inside. Two years ago, as Chief Creative and Content Officer, she helped take over The Daily Beast and bring it to Substack, where it now operates a suite of newsletters and podcasts. She also writes PRIMAL SCREAM with Joanna Coles, her own publication covering politics and power and where she co-hosts and sends out The Daily Beast Podcast to an audience of over 70,000 subscribers. Joanna invited us for a cup of tea and a slice of cake at Tea & Sympathy, a West Village institution that has been importing British calm to Manhattan for over 30 years. There, she and Substack’s head of new media, Hanne Winarsky, talked about the golden age of the glossy mag, the two questions Cosmo readers have never stopped asking, and what life looks like on the other side of the old media order.Hanne: For somebody growing up today in journalism school who might not know what old newsrooms were like, what was the culture?Joanna: Well, I mean, first of all, they were incredibly noisy because you had typewriters. And I am not exaggerating when I say that you would get seven pieces of paper, seven pieces of carbon paper. You would put it into the typewriter, and you would have to think very carefully about what you wanted to say, because if you made a mistake, you had to either rip the whole thing out and start all over again or you had to correct it seven times. And you would have what was called Tipp-Ex whiteout, where you had to cross it out. So there was more planning ahead of what you were going to write. It was fantastically noisy. Then computers came in, and half the newsroom, largely men, would say, “Well, I’m not going to use a computer. That’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with a typewriter.” And of course, those people just disappeared out of the newsroom. But it was a very fun, lively culture, and you felt like what you were doing was important, because it was a way of getting information to people. And it was tribal, so people read The Guardian, and that was their tribe. They read the Daily Telegraph or the [London] Times, and that was their tribe. And now of course, we’re inundated with individual voices coming at us, which you don’t really have a sense of their tribe necessarily. Of course, you know, there are lots of newspapers still going, but it’s not quite the journey that was curated for you by the older editors.Hanne: It was presumably pretty male-dominated at the time, those newsrooms?Joanna: It was very male-dominated. I worked on Fleet Street when I was working on the Daily Telegraph, the legendary Fleet Street. So you had the high courts at one end, you had St. Paul’s [Cathedral] at the other, and in between you had the big British newspapers. And so at the end of the day, all the journalists would roll out of the various papers and congregate in two or three pubs, the best of which was called El Vino, which is still there. But the crazy thing about it was—and this was in the ’80s—that women weren’t allowed to order or pay for drinks.Hanne: That’s unbelievable.Joanna: Isn’t it? Of course, now I look back on it through the lens of, you know, feminism, and think: how outrageous. But at the time, me and the smattering of girlfriends I had in the newsroom were like, “Well, this is great.”Joanna: When I was editor of Cosmo, we got two questions all the time, consistently the entire time I was there, and this is probably going back through time immemorial, through Helen Gurley Brown’s days, which were “How do I have an orgasm?” and “How do I ask for a raise?” Every month, my monthly mailbag, those were the two dominant questions. So those were the two things we were trying to answer.Hanne: So it wasn’t changing the direction, actually. You were listening to what was already being asked for and leaning more into that.Joanna: Well, I’m assuming those questions came in before I was there. And it wasn’t “How do I give my husband or my boyfriend an orgasm?” It was like, “How do I have one?” And then it was like, “How do I make more money?” Because there was a sense in which women understood they were probably being underpaid—which they were—and they wanted to have the power to ask for something, and be successful at it.Hanne: When you left Hearst you said, “My route is being recalculated.” What did you mean?Joanna: The impact of digital on a magazine company was enormous, and I was, in essence, doing what a lot of editors were doing, which is managing decline. And I have managed decline well. We had declined, in terms of market share, probably less than other people. But at a certain point, there’s a moment when you want to start leaning into growth and doing something fresh. And I had been at Hearst for 12 years, and it felt like, oh, there’s a gap in the clouds here where I can sort of take off. My kids were older, and I’d had an absolute blast, but it wasn’t going to last. You know? I think everybody in magazines knew there was a train driving straight at you called digital, and it was going to mow you down, and it was much less fun than it had been.Hanne: If you’ve worked hard at a professional career you always have moments where something is changing direction in a way you didn’t expect, or perhaps you did but you weren’t ready for. And I love that idea of leaning into it instead of just accepting it.Joanna: It’s very easy to get stuck. You see people get stuck all the time, and then you see it’s too late for them to change, and you can’t get out. And so I had a moment in the clouds when I could get out. I had a fantastic time at Hearst. I loved working there. But these are hard jobs, and you can’t build the railroad fast enough to keep the train from mowing you down. Or at least that’s what it felt like in the moment.And now these magazines don’t exist, you know? They just don’t—the physical product, for the most part, doesn’t exist anymore, and it’s not as luxurious, and it’s not needed as much because it’s impossible to compete with the phone. The phone is a fabulous device. These people that say, “Oh my god, the phones.” I’m like, “What are you talking about?” The phone keeps us connected. It’s fantastic. There’s so many ideas in there. I can do everything on my phone. It’s incredible. And so to keep sort of running after the phone with an old magazine, sort of saying, “It used to be better in my day”—it’s not true. The world has changed. And you want to be part of that change.Hanne: When you look at the media landscape today, where do you see the most innovation happening?Joanna: Well, I think the most innovation is happening on platforms like Substack and YouTube, because people are figuring out what works, what people tune in to. And people are feeling more confident in their voices, I think, which means we hear from a lot of voices that we don’t normally hear from, because they’re mediated by media. And some of them are alarming, and some of them are really interesting, and I love the fact that you can get your own audience by having an authentic voice.[Before] there just weren’t these places for individual voices to go, and so they were trapped within an old media ecosystem that couldn’t pay them enough, that wouldn’t give them direct connection with the reader. And now we have this incredible set of platforms where you get direct connection with the audience. And you get to do what you’re good at without the heavy hand of corporate America squashing you down, which is often what happens.Hanne: Do you find your voice changing now that it’s on Substack, that you’re unleashed in a different way?Joanna: A little bit. For me, Substack is a bit like early Twitter. I was a big adopter of Twitter at the beginning. I absolutely loved it. It felt like you were having a conversation with writers. You could discover all sorts of new voices. And since Elon Musk’s taken over, it’s just completely changed. You get this kind of endless negativity coming in, which doesn’t even feel real. It’s not relevant to me. It doesn’t feel real or useful. Whereas Substack, actually, you feel like, “Oh, I can have a conversation with this person. I love the way this person writes. Oh, I can reach out directly to them.” So you have this sense of a real directness of content, which is kind of high.FOOTNOTESTea & Sympathy, 108 Greenwich Ave., New York—Cozy British tearoom and shop owned by Nicola Perry and her daughter, Audrey Kavanagh-Dowsett who produces and publishes the shop’s interview series on Sub...

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Open Tab: Kevin Kelly

2w ago00:45:03Tap to summarize

We sat down with writer, editor, photographer, and futurist Kevin Kelly at the Interval at Long Now in San Francisco’s Fort Mason. Part cocktail bar, part science-centric museum to the future, the Interval houses an eight-foot-tall model of the solar system, artwork by the musician Brian Eno, and prototypes for the Long Now Foundation’s most ambitious project: a clock being built inside a West Texas mountain, designed to keep time without intervention for 10,000 years. Kevin serves on the board of the organization, which believes that a civilization seriously anticipating a long future would think and build very differently.Kelly is also the founding executive editor of Wired, where he spent the better part of the 1990s helping people understand technology as culture. Before that, he was a key editor and publisher at the Whole Earth Review and a central figure at the Whole Earth Catalog, the legendary tools-and-ideas resource that shaped a generation of independent builders and thinkers from the late 1960s through the 1980s. He is the originator of the “1,000 true fans” theory—the idea that a creator with direct access to their audience needs only 1,000 people willing to buy anything they make to sustain a living—one of the most practically influential ideas in independent media. In his conversation with Substack’s head of new media, Hanne Winarsky, he talks about his journey through tech and media and the subjects he writes about for his Substack audience at his newsletter, KK: taking a prototyping approach to life, why optimism is a daily practice, and some guesses for where we’re headed next.Hanne: There was no web at the very launch of Wired?Kevin: The web happened within a year or so of Wired. The first couple of years we were working on it, it was going to be a paper magazine with an online presence. So we started Wired Digital, which was actually in a separate building, and we developed a whole bunch of editors and people, and they were inventing what the media would be like. One of the questions that was really unclear to everybody was frequency. How often do we have to update this? We’re doing a monthly magazine. Are we going to have to update this every month?Hanne: Oh my gosh. Yes, and then some.Kevin: The thing that a lot of people did not believe was that people would read online. And secondly, people don’t remember, but in the ’80s, there were a lot of people saying that writing was over. Nobody was going to write. What we learned from the web was: no. People are going to write. Almost any of us writes far, far more words per day than our grandparents ever did. We’re all writers, really.Hanne: And there’s that optimism again. Part of your thinking about communities and audiences at Wired coalesced into an essay around 2008 called “1,000 True Fans”—an idea that in a lot of ways is very much connected to what Substack is today. Can you describe where it came from?Kevin: The premise is that if you have direct contact with your audience or your customers, you don’t need millions of them to make a living. If you have a label or a publisher or a studio in between you, then you might need millions. But if you take those away and go directly to them, you just have a much more feasible number to get to. You get $100 per year from 1,000 true fans, you can make it. I defined a true fan as somebody who would purchase anything you made. When I introduced this idea, there weren’t any examples of anybody I could find who was doing that organically.Hanne: Was your hypothesis at the time that there would be a lot more people doing this?Kevin: Yeah, I thought the arithmetic made sense. Even the weirdest, wackiest, esoteric idea that only appeals to one in a million people, with 8 billion people in the world, there’s still a thousand people who are going to be into your weird thing. The challenge is going to be finding them and making that connection. I think that’s where the next technology is going to be useful—maybe AI—that would allow you to find your thousand true fans.Kevin: I talk about inevitabilities in technology. A lot of what we have is inevitable given the whole system. AI is inevitable. Any civilization anywhere in the galaxy that invented electricity and steam engines and motors is going to make AI. But the character of the AI is not inevitable. Quadrupeds as an animal are inevitable on any kind of planet with our kind of gravity, but a zebra is not. The specificity is not inevitable. How it shows up, the particulars, are completely up to us. We have a choice in the particulars, and those choices make a big difference. Who owns AI? Is it public? Is it international? Is it closed? Is it open? How is it financed? All those choices are choices we have. But AI itself is inevitable. Those minds are going to keep coming.Life is going to continue on. There’s almost nothing we humans could do to eradicate life on the planet. But we can still manage natural systems for our benefit. The same thing with technology. I think we do have to manage it and garden it and steer it. The way to steer technology is through use. You want to embrace technologies and use them, because that’s the only way you get to steer them. If you prohibit them or ban them or refuse them, you don’t get to steer.Hanne: It’s also the only way you start impacting the particulars, the things you actually control.Kevin: We cannot think our way to the particulars. I call it “thinkism”—this idea that just thinking about things will solve stuff, [that] thinking about technology, we can figure out what it’s good and bad for. We can’t. We have to actually use it.Hanne: This systems-level thinking, where do you think it came from? Were you just born with it?Kevin: I don’t think it began that way. I think it’s something I learned. The way I would describe it now is this prototype approach to the world. What we want to think about is our use of social media right now—we’re still prototyping it. And the idea of prototyping your life rather than deciding what you’re going to do for the rest of your life. You try it for a couple of years and you go on. You prototype everything out of cardboard first. You make one to throw away, as the makers say. The first one you’re just going to throw away anyway.I’ve collapsed some of that into my idea of “protopia.” We aren’t headed to utopia, where everything’s fine. We’re going to come to a world where things are a little tiny bit better, and we’re just incrementally prototyping our way forward. No massive jumps. Just 1% better, 1% better. That means there could be 49% crap in the world, 49% harm, and everybody knows it. I can make a long list of all the things wrong. But there could be 51% good. That 2% difference is hardly even visible.Hanne: But it is. We are inching incrementally, prototyping, learning, perhaps painfully. It’s a combination of the immediate now and the very long term. The only way to do anything forever is to do something now, concrete, over and over.Kevin: You sail forward.FOOTNOTESThe Interval at Long Now—Fort Mason Center for Arts and Culture, San Francisco.The Clock of the Long Now—built inside a mountain in West Texas, designed to tick for 10,000 years.Jeff Bezos—contributed $42 million towards the Clock of the Long Now. Kevin cites him on the competitive advantage of thinking in longer time horizons.The Whole Earth Catalog—Iconic counterculture magazine and product catalog. Described by Steve Jobs in his 2005 Stanford commencement address as “sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along.”Woodstock—where Kevin first encountered the Whole Earth Catalog, in a bookstore, in 1969.Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass (1855)—the book that sent Kevin wandering.The WELL (Whole Earth ’Lectronic Link)—one of the earliest online communities, co-founded by Stephen Brand and Kevin. Among the first places humans encountered flame wars, trolling, and people living with completely different online personas.The first Artificial Life conference (ALife I)— Held at Los Alamos National Laboratory in 1987, the scientific gathering launched Kevin’s first book. He attended as a journalist and posted live notes to the WELL, “live-blogging before blogging.”Louis Rossetto—co-founder of Wired, who recruited Kevin with the pitch that the magazine should feel “like it’s been mailed back from the future.”Wired—launched in March 1993. Kevin served as founding executive editor until 1999. His current title is Senior Maverick.“1,000 True Fans”</strong...

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Open Tab: Ashlee Vance

3w ago00:47:56Tap to summarize

In episode 3 of Open Tab, Substack co-founder Hamish McKenzie shared a few rounds with filmmaker and tech journalist Ashlee Vance at Fred’s Place, a longtime neighborhood dive in Mountain View just minutes from where the technology that gave Silicon Valley its name was born. After two decades covering tech for major publications, Ashlee circled the globe for Hello World, Bloomberg’s travel-tech documentary series exploring “the freshest, weirdest tech creations” and introducing viewers to “the beautiful freaks behind them.” That same pull toward tech’s biggest risk-takers also led him to write a bestselling biography of Elon Musk, based on months of interviews and unusually direct access—a profile Musk first praised as “95% accurate” before turning on it at publication.With Core Memory , the media company he founded and now runs on Substack, Ashlee is still writing, reporting, and making films, but with his own shop and team. He says his work gives audiences a window into where the world is going six or seven years before the rest of the culture catches up. In his conversation with Hamish, he talks about what it actually takes to get close to a subject, why he walked away from what he called the best job in media, and the stories and formats he’s building as the bet seems to be paying off.CORE MEMORYStarted: 2025Subscribers: Thousands of paid (orange checkmark bestseller)Format: Newsletter, podcast, video series, documentary filmsTeam: A crew of writers, producers, editors, and a social media team, led by Ashlee alongside a COO, a chief creative officer, and an operations leadExtensions and verticals: Multiple writers producing regular newsletter sends across beats; podcast; merch; feature documentary projects in production, including an upcoming Neuralink documentary produced and self-funded through the companyHamish: Why are we here at Fred’s Place in Mountain View?Ashlee: I spent most of my early 20s in the Tenderloin [in San Francisco] bonding with dive bars. It was part of my lifestyle. Fred’s has been here for about 60 years. They go back to the ’50s. And down the road, probably about a mile from here, is where Fairchild Semiconductor was—which was like the first real semiconductor company. There’s always been this part of Silicon Valley culture that I like, which is they were boozers. As the chip industry was starting to explode, they were pushing the limits of physics, they were pushing the limits of chemistry, they were all super-competitive at their companies. But as engineers are wont to do, they couldn’t help themselves but come to the bar and reveal how they’d just gotten past something that was challenging the whole industry. They would all share this knowledge, and then the whole industry would move forward. Even today, you have AI companies in this multi-trillion-dollar life-and-death struggle. And those guys don’t go to bars, but they meet up and share their takeaways. They do hot yoga and then share how they figured something out. The same thing, though. So I thought, this bar will be symbolic of those roots and traditions.Hamish: Ten years ago, you published the first good biography of Elon Musk, which became a massive bestseller and a phenomenon in its own right. You got a lot of access to Elon through the writing of that book. It must have been hard to convince him to give you that time in the first place. Can you tell me about what that experience was like, working on a book like that while giving access to the principal—and this particular kind of principal, who’s prickly?Ashlee: It was really strange. I’d done a big magazine story on him—that was the first time I’d met him—and we’d got along okay. There was some kind of rapport, and that’s what made me a little bit confident about doing the book. But when I told him what I was doing, he said, “No, I’m not going to participate. I’m not going to help you.” So I spent two years interviewing hundreds of people. Huge chunks of them would report back to Elon. I always thought it was going to work out okay, because he wasn’t actively telling people not to talk to me. He wasn’t making it miserable, which would’ve made life a lot harder. Back then, he was already really litigious. People were afraid of him. Nobody had ever written anything truly revealing. He was kind of the weirdo, almost like a circus freak. I’d come into all these meetings and everyone was like, “He’s going to sue me. I don’t want to talk.” It was really hard for a couple of years.Then one day I was actually ready to start writing, done with all my interviews. He must have some sixth sense, because it was almost in that moment he called. Elon Musk on my caller ID. I had a landline back then. He said, “You’ve been way more persistent than I ever imagined. I’ll do interviews with you if I can read the book before it comes out and make changes.” I said, “Well, I’m not going to do that. Let’s have dinner and hash it out.” It was one of those moments where he’d either say yes or no. Right there on the spot, he said, “Okay, fine. We’ll do one interview a month for as long as you feel like you need.” Which was incredibly fair.So we’d meet for dinner once a month. Some dinners were an hour, some were four hours—just depended on his schedule and how things were going. It was totally different days. We’d show up to restaurants in Mountain View, Palo Alto. He’d walk in by himself, sit down at the table. No security, nothing. He had a driver, but the driver didn’t even come in. And nobody in the restaurant seemed to notice who he was.Hamish: So you got a good book out of it, sold 6 or 7 million copies. What was his response like when it came out?Ashlee: It was funny. I made sure all the books were on boats heading to stores—about five or six days before it was going to be in stores. I just wanted everything to be where he couldn’t undo it, file a lawsuit and block it or something. But he had spent so much time and been really fair, and it felt like he should read it first. So I sent him a PDF the week before it came out, went to bed, and woke up to this stream of emails. He was basically live-blogging the book as he went through it. He’s always been hung up on the Tesla founding question. Marc Tarpenning and Martin Eberhard, the original founders, would say they founded Tesla. Elon would say, “No, I founded Tesla.” When you look at it, they had filed the paperwork, they were working on it. Would Tesla exist without Elon? Definitely not.Hamish: Especially not in the way that it currently exists.Ashlee: No way. In the fact-checking process I told him, “Elon, I am going to say that Marc and Martin founded the company. There is no way around this.” He said, “I understand.” And then in the emails, he’s going off about it again. But otherwise he was okay—really just two things upset him. I’d written about when he and his brother Kimbal were coming out here to start Zip2 and had gotten a used BMW. Kimbal told me he bought it with money from painting houses. Elon said he bought it. I told them they could fight about that. The other thing was a quote from an engineer saying Elon takes too much credit for the engineering at SpaceX. [Elon] said, “You wrote that I take too much credit.” I said, “I didn’t write that, Elon. That’s a quote from an engineer. He’s allowed to have his opinion.” Those were the things he was upset about. Otherwise, fine. He actually sent me an email—which I saved in case things got litigious—saying the book was 95% accurate. For Elon, who already hated journalists, that was incredible.Hamish: I remember you telling me that at the time. I was like, “Well, that’s an amazing result.”Ashlee: And it was mostly okay. Then about a week later, the Washington Post did a story: the 27 most outrageous things from the book. A big chunk of it was about what a pain in the ass he was to work for. Funny thing is, when he’d read the book, none of that had really fazed him. He’s actually kind of proud of being a tough boss. But then I think when he saw how the world was reacting to it—Tesla was just starting to get a little competition, hiring was a big thing—I think he worried people weren’t going to want to come work for him. And he just flipped the switch.Hamish: So a week after he gave you the 95% mark, there’s a press reaction, and then he reacts in the press.Ashlee: Yeah. He starts saying things—there’s the Google acquisition thing. He’s like, “Who told you that?” I said, “Elon, you know who told me that.” And that was the first time I really experienced firsthand some of what I’d heard about. Emails saying things like, “You’re an a*****e. I’m going to destroy your life.” I figured he needed to vent. But then a friend inside Tesla told me, “He’s just asked me to find the world’s best libel lawyer.” And I think—I’ve never confirmed this with Elon—but I think he did ask somebody whether it was physically possible to buy every copy of the book worldwide and make it disappear.Hamish: Did he know publishers can print new copies?Ashlee: ...

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Open Tab: Esther Perel

4w ago00:53:55Tap to summarize

The psychotherapy room is, by design, one of the most private spaces in human life, but Esther Perel has devoted much of her career to opening the door. Addressing relationships, cross-cultural psychology, and the contours of belonging, she brought therapeutic ideas out into the world through a body of work that spans talks, books, and her hit podcast Where Should We Begin?, which has reached millions of listeners across nearly a decade. In her Substack publication Entre Nous with Esther Perel, she says she’s found a gathering place for it all: “I always talk about how I wanted to bring the therapeutic ideas into the public square,” she told us. “Now I want to create a public square.”On the day of the 20th anniversary re-release of her book Mating in Captivity, a cultural touchstone on the topic of desire, we’re sharing a conversation between Esther and Hanne Winarsky, Substack’s head of new media, recorded at Temple Bar in SoHo, New York. In this second episode of Open Tab, Esther discusses how she hires and has built her businesses, how work has replaced religion as a source of meaning, whether AI can give good therapy, and how she’s made it her life’s work to re-create the proverbial village online.New episodes of Open Tab drop weekly through June. You can watch on YouTube, listen wherever you get your podcasts, and always find the full series on Substack. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

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Open Tab: Emily Sundberg

May 700:54:45Tap to summarize

For our inaugural episode of Open Tab, we knew we wanted to speak with Emily Sundberg. Emily’s the founder and daily writer of Feed Me, a business, tech, and culture newsletter that’s been described as “must-read (and much-read).” She publishes almost every weekday— something like 250 sends a year—covering everything from DTC darlings and media industry churn to New York hospitality and new world etiquette. In the process, she has been profiled by the New York Times and Air Mail, becoming known as a “media it girl” and “one of the most talked-about writers in business and culture journalism.”Emily has worked in media and tech but built her current audience of over 10,000 subscribers natively on Substack, post by post. She told us she sees Feed Me as a studio, with extensions like a podcast, job board, and thriving subscriber comments section where she’s “never scared that anything bad is happening.”Substack co-founder Hamish McKenzie sat down with Emily at Old Town Bar in Manhattan’s Flatiron district to talk about building her independent media business from scratch and the glimmers of hope she sees for media on Substack and beyond.Location: Old Town Bar, Flatiron, NYC. Order: 1 Guinness each This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

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Introducing Open Tab

May 600:00:56Tap to summarize

Most of what we hear from media insiders is a story of decline: collapsing economics, algorithmic chaos, layoffs, and LLMs nipping at journalists’ heels. But a new class of independent media founders is creating powerful businesses around their own work and direct relationships with readers, listeners, and viewers—highly-profitable, multi-format, and built without first raising millions of dollars or a complex infrastructure stack. They’re finding ways to make creative livelihoods that don’t depend on the goodwill of a platform or a print masthead.Open Tab is a new interview series hosted by Substack co-founder Hamish McKenzie and Head of New Media Hanne Winarsky, who sit down with a different independent media founder each week to ask them how they did it. Every episode of the show is filmed at a neighborhood bar, restaurant, or café where the guest likes to spend their time. And in each conversation, Hamish or Hanne joins with, “I’ll have what you’re having.” Episode one comes out tomorrow, May 7.The guests are writers, editors, and creators who have built thriving media businesses and communities from the ground up. Among them: a techno-optimist with a thousand-year view, and a relationship therapist with a warning about AI’s impacts tomorrow. A journalist who wrote the definitive book on Elon Musk—before, he says, Elon tried to buy up every copy. A tabloid insider who spent years protecting a secret source and then became a whistleblower himself. Internet natives and legacy media icons who have reported on power and celebrity from up close. Some built their audience entirely from scratch; others arrived with a career’s body of work and found a home for it here.We kept returning to the unvarnished reality of building something on your own: the appetite for risk, the rewards of independence, and what it means to do this in a time when a single person with a point of view can rival—and often exceed—the reach of the most storied media institutions.New episodes of the show will drop weekly through June. You can watch on YouTube, listen wherever you get your podcasts, and find the full series here on Substack.The most ambitious media founders in the world are building on Substack. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

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Publish video posts directly in the Substack app

Feb 20, 202500:02:08Tap to summarize

Starting today, writers and creators can publish video posts directly from the Substack app, making it easier than ever to share videos, connect with subscribers, and earn money—all from the palm of your hand.Since launching the Substack app, we've prioritized making it a seamless tool for creators. First we introduced mobile text publishing, allowing writers to share their work from anywhere. Now, we're making it possible for video creators to publish directly in the app, opening up new ways to connect with subscribers.Previously, creators could share video posts only on desktop, limiting their ability to publish on the go. This update marks the first time they can upload, publish, and monetize video directly from their phones. Each video post reaches subscribers instantly through email, app notifications, or both, ensuring a direct connection with their audience.Here's how it works:* Tap the + icon to create a new post* Select Video and choose a file from your gallery (supports files up to 20GB)* Add a title and description* Choose whether to notify subscribers and paywall the post* Click PublishThe power of video on Substack comes from the subscription model. Not only does every post reach subscribers directly, but creators can easily share their work across the Substack network, expanding their reach and finding new potential subscribers. With millions of weekly active users and 1 million posts discovered daily, the Substack app has become the leading driver of subscriber and revenue growth for publishers building sustainable, independent businesses.Political analyst Aaron Parnas had early access to the feature and has seen its impact firsthand. “The ability to publish directly from my phone has transformed how I share breaking news and analysis with my subscribers,” says Parnas. “I can now reach my audience instantly, wherever I am.” Aaron recently won Substack’s TikTok Liberation Prize, awarded for showcasing the power of the Substack model and inspiring video creators make the leap. He’s leaned heavily into video and has built a thriving community of loyal subscribers that supports his work directly.This is just the first iteration of in-app video publishing. We're already exploring features that will make video on Substack even more powerful, including trimming and editing tools, free preview options, enhanced analytics, and improved playback controls.Learn more: How to publish a post from the Substack appWe're committed to making it easier for creators to share their work in whatever format they choose. While there's still work to be done, this update marks an important step toward that goal. Try publishing a video post in the app today, and let us know what you think in the comments. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

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How Browns Film Breakdown hit its stride

Feb 7, 202500:05:52Tap to summarize

Ahead of a big weekend for football, Substack’s Austin Tedesco went live with Peter Moses to discuss Browns Film Breakdown, a multimedia publication that covers the Cleveland Browns in depth. Here are a few highlights from their conversation, including insights on providing value across multiple mediums, determining the right publishing cadence, and finding your niche.On the decision to start a SubstackPeter Moses: We’re breaking down films of the Browns so you can understand the why and the how of what they’re doing, and relate to them better as a fan and understand what’s happening on the field. [It’s a way to] feel better connected to the team and the community. We’re trying to kind of be antithetical to the hot takes on socials or call-in radio, things like that.So we looked at a bunch of different places and options and then found our way to Substack. We really found everything we needed in one place, so we could launch this thing within a matter of weeks before the season went live.[There were] plenty of things that we learned this year, things that went well and did not go as well. But doing it on Substack gave us an opportunity to launch something that we think has legs for, hopefully, seasons and years to come. On finding the right cadencePeter: In an early conversation that we had, you were like, “Don’t overload the amount of content you’re putting out.” Jake [Burns]’s experience, coming from a digital print site, was pumping out four or five articles a day. And so for us, what we learned over the season and how we’re moving forward with our content, is one newsletter every morning. And “newsletter” and “article” for us are now becoming synonymous.We have something coming out every morning that also has a link to the podcast. And then video will come out on the site as we see fit. But I think we really tried to come out of the gate [with a lot of content]. And some of the feedback we got from people who jumped in and out of subscribing was, “There’s too much content here for me. I don’t feel like I’m able to fully maximize my subscription, because I can’t keep up.” So, not that less is more, but just kind of understanding what the cadence should be, where it doesn’t feel like you are being overwhelmed, and also making it accessible for people who want to plug in in different ways.Austin Tedesco: You don’t want the notifications or emails to start to feel like homework to people, right? Like, you get meaty, you get in-depth—that’s so much of the value prop of what you do. You’re like, “You’re going to understand what’s happening in some sort of defensive or offensive set in a way you never would, by listening to Jake or watching Jake or reading Jake” or any of your other contributors. But if you miss two, and then the third one comes and you’re like, “Oh man, I still don’t have time for this,” then people get less excited than if it’s digestible or less voluminous.On providing value across mediumsPeter: Browns Film Breakdown, the podcast, is our best marketing tool at this point. It’s been around for almost eight years and it comes out every day, or almost every day, year-round. We’re exploring pulling sections of some of those podcasts to Substack only. So if someone loves the podcast, doesn’t want a newsletter, doesn’t want to see the film, but wants to support Jake in the podcast, they feel as connected as someone who wants to watch every offensive snap from their Week 4 game against the Cincinnati Bengals and have Jake break that down over video.So that’s the biggest thing we’re trying to learn. How can we make everyone feel like their level of involvement is worth that subscription, even when those involvement levels vary?On starting a niche publicationAustin: If someone is interested in starting this kind of thing themselves—and I think especially in the kind of thing we’re talking about, where it’s like, “I think I could be an expert in a niche and build community around it”—what’s one piece of advice you have for them?Peter: That’s a great question. I think it’s very basic, but I would say, you know, be the content that you’re interested in consuming yourself on a daily basis.And so for us, first and foremost, we love this team, we’re obsessed with it, and we want to provide community for people who are like us, who want to relate to this team in a way that feels different from what’s out there.And I also think, something that I’ll say specifically in sports, is just because someone is doing something that you’re interested in doesn’t mean that there’s not space for you to pursue it as well.This conversation has been edited for length and clarity. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

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How TikTok creator Aaron Parnas found success on Substack

Jan 24, 202500:08:09Tap to summarize

Aaron Parnas is an independent journalist and attorney who built a following on TikTok by providing a Gen Z perspective on the news. After winning Substack’s TikTok Liberation Prize, Aaron went live with Substack CEO Chris Best to talk about bringing his community to the app, why Substack is different from the other guys, and how to build a multiplatform content strategy. Here are a few highlights from their conversation.On the decision to start a SubstackAaron Parnas: I always wanted to do a text-based newsletter-type thing, and I’ve tried out other platforms like Medium and Mailchimp and all this other stuff, but nothing was intuitive enough for me to do the work that I wanted to do.Substack was a mix between an email newsletter and a social media platform, so it offered the best of both worlds. And it also now offers all these video capabilities, whether it’s the long-form videos that I put out daily, or I can repost my short-form content in the Notes feature.It has Notes, which is like Twitter or Bluesky; it has the videos, which are like YouTube or TikTok; and then it has the tech space, which none of the other platforms really have. So it’s kind of the best of all three worlds. And I’ve been loving it.Chris Best: Yeah, we sometimes say that other platforms are built around some media format, and Substack is built around you. It’s a place where people can subscribe to you and get everything you make, whether they like long live videos, or short-form video, or quick text-based things, or long text-based things. You can publish any kind of thing that you want.On concerns over other platformsAaron: A lot of people are looking for a platform that isn’t owned by a billionaire or a foreign adversary, right? Like [one] that can’t necessarily be manipulated. And Substack really is that. I have full editorial control—you don’t control what I put out. There’s no censorship. The algorithm doesn’t push my content down if it doesn’t like it for whatever reason.And what I like about [Substack] is that it’s not a partisan platform. You have Republicans, you have Democrats, you have Independents, you have everyone on this platform, all pushing out content, and it’s working.And that’s what social media should be, in my opinion.Chris: It’s really good to hear you say that, because it’s something we’ve worked pretty hard to do. We have a strong commitment to freedom of the press.This is all we do. We don’t have entanglements, political commitments, agendas, beyond making this tool work for people. So I’m glad that that comes through, because it’s something that we put quite a bit of effort into.On bringing a community to SubstackAaron: I feel like we’ve been able to build a community here on Substack of people who may not have their own newsletters, but they’re excited to read mine and others on here. We’re talking in the threads, we’re communicating every day. They’re communicating with one another as well. It’s not just me communicating with folks, it’s the people who read my stuff communicating with one another too. So it’s been really cool. It’s been a great experience.And I’m excited to see where the platform goes between now and the end of the year, like the growth over the next year, because I think there are some really cool things that could be added and could be changed and can make it even better. So I’m excited.Chris: That’s great. Well, now you’re a creative advisor to Substack after winning this prize, so you can tell us all the things we need to do to make it great.On posting jittersChris: When you first started your Substack, was there a moment where you wondered or worried whether people would subscribe, whether they would pay, whether it was going to work? I think a lot of people I’ve talked to who have launched Substacks have this fear—not even the fear of failing, necessarily, but this fear of putting yourself out there and having this spot where you have this direct relationship. And then what if nobody shows up? What if it doesn’t work?Did you have that at all? Or did you know that it was going to work?Aaron: I always thought it was going to work, because I love my followers and I love all the people that support my work. And the community we built on the other platforms, I really thought would shine through even more on Substack. So I thought it was going to work for the content that I do.But I will say that I think the number one thing for social media generally is just doing it, right? Not being afraid. Just putting your face behind a camera, putting content out, and just seeing what happens. Trial and error. And ultimately, not everything’s going to work, not everything’s going to go viral. A few things will! But if you don’t try, you’re not going to succeed.So I get the fear. But I personally didn’t have the fear, because I know my audience. And I think if you know your audience, they’ll go with you wherever you are.On building a multiplatform content strategyAaron: I’m a huge believer in diversifying the platforms you’re on, because, like TikTok, anything can go away at a moment’s notice.Chris: Right.Aaron: So I think what I loved about Substack is that the long-form content that I’ve been able to produce, like the five-, six-minute videos that I put out once or twice a day, they’re automatically posted to my YouTube. So folks who don’t necessarily see my Substack every day, they see my YouTube. And I am able to take clips from those and put them on my Instagram or my TikTok, right? So it’s given me a tool to really be able to diversify my platforms even more.On barriers for creatorsAaron: I hate video editing. I don’t know how to do it well. I’m not good at it. Like, I don’t edit any of my videos. So I’ve always been hesitant to start a YouTube channel or even do long-form content. And Substack’s really opened that door for me, even though I’m not really editing my videos still. It’s just being able to push out my content in ways that I haven’t been able to do before.Chris: That’s very cool. One of my hopes for this feature that we’re using right now actually is that, over time, we can make the tools smarter and smarter so that you can show up, have an interesting conversation, say something, talk to the camera, make the thing in a natural way. And, as much as possible, we help automatically edit, process, and format it.You know, it’s never going to be quite the same as having, like, a really talented editing team go through and do it. And some people will still do that. But I think the number of people—like if you, as an amazing, famous video creator, are someone who feels like heavy video editing is a barrier to you succeeding on YouTube, to making long-form content, it makes me feel like there must be a lot of people in that position.Parting wordsAaron: I think the only thing left is, if you guys are watching this and you don’t have your own Substack newsletters, start them. There’s no better time than now to start them. And DM me if you do—I’d love to check them out.This conversation has been edited for length and clarity. For more from Chris and Aaron's conversation, including their predictions on what's next for TikTok, click here. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

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‘Get a dose of sanity’: How Dan Harris found success with live videos

Jan 17, 202500:03:51Tap to summarize

Dan Harris is a bestselling author, the host of the 10% Happier podcast, and a former ABC news anchor. He went live with Substack CEO Chris Best yesterday to share the creative ways he’s been using live video in the Substack app, and offered recommendations for others hoping to take advantage of the feature. Here, we’re sharing a few highlights from their conversation.Learn more about going live on Substack: On getting creative with live videosChris Best: This feature that we’re using right now, Substack Live, it’s a new thing for us. It’s something that we’ve developed relatively recently. And you have been one of the people who is using it not only very successfully but, in my view, very creatively. And I’d love to hear from you, how are you thinking about it? And what is the live piece of what you’ve been doing on Substack?Dan Harris: Essentially, it’s 10 minutes of guided meditation, and then I take questions. And so what we’ve been doing recently, for example, is a series of live guided meditations starting on Sunday, running through Wednesday, to help people deal with the tumult around Trump’s inauguration. No matter where you stand, people have strong feelings. And so we’re creating a place where people can come, get a dose of sanity in the form of a meditation from me, and then ask questions.On the benefits for paid subscribers versus freeDan Harris: One of the benefits that we’ll be providing to our paid subscribers is we’ll create a chat very soon where only paid subscribers can submit their questions in advance, and those will get preferential treatment. We do a mix of live events for paid subscribers and for everybody. So [these] inauguration [meditations] will be for everybody.We [also] did a bunch of stuff around the election. We did a series called Election Sanity that was free for everybody. And I also do a monthly paid-subscriber-only AMA, and I’m probably going to up the cadence on that to much, much more [frequent] because the response has been so good.On the value of posting a live video after it endsDan Harris: What we’re seeing is that we get a certain amount of people who tune in live, but we get sometimes 10, 20, 30 times that [number] watching it asynchronously later.On when to promote a live videoChris Best: So do you tell people, like, “Hey, this is coming up today. Tune in at this time.” And just give them a little taste of it? How do you promote on [the different] platforms?Dan Harris: It really depends on the platform. On Substack, we’re trying to give plenty of notice. So today, we sent out an email to all of our subscribers saying that starting on Sunday, we will be doing Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday—four days of programming around the inauguration. So we gave some heads-up and we gave times, so people can put it in their calendars.On Instagram and on Notes, it’s more like, “Hey, this is happening right now. You should come check it out.”On using collaborative live video to growDan Harris: I have found that working with fellow Substackers has been really helpful. I mentioned I’m doing a series of lives around the inauguration—Sharon McMahon and Van Jones will be participating in those lives with me. And I’ve done joint posts with Susan Cain. And I just got an email this morning from Elizabeth Gilbert, and we’ll do a thing.And so I actually think if you’re looking to grow, partnering with these other amazing people on the platform is a great opportunity.This conversation has been edited for length and clarity. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

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Open Tab: Joanna Coles

Open Tab: Kevin Kelly

Open Tab: Ashlee Vance

Open Tab: Esther Perel

Open Tab: Emily Sundberg

Introducing Open Tab

Publish video posts directly in the Substack app

How Browns Film Breakdown hit its stride

How TikTok creator Aaron Parnas found success on Substack

‘Get a dose of sanity’: How Dan Harris found success with live videos