In Praise of Substack Philosophy
A Renaissance Beckons
1. The Medium is the Message
I was recently listening to Ezra Klein’s appearance on the Modern Wisdom podcast with Chris Williamson. Much of the conversation is focused on the new landscape of American politics. What stuck out to me though was Klein’s discussion of the idea that the “medium is the message.”
American politics have changed (for better or worse) because the media have changed. The rise of social media and the proliferation of available content means that attention is now the key scarce resource. To rise up the ranks, politicians must be skilled at capturing attention, in a way that wasn’t true before. Especially given the popularity of short-form content (whether TikTok videos or Twitter/X posts), deliberately provocative messaging can often take priority over detailed policy proposals or nuanced analyses.
The medium changes not just how we present our ideas, but our ideas themselves. The kinds of ideas that can be developed in a book are different from the kinds of ideas that are fit for TV, for example.
2. Philosophy by Journal Article
Over the past several decades, the gold standard in philosophy has been the stand-alone journal article. Professional philosophers make their careers based on articles appearing in the top venues such as The Philosophical Review, Noûs, or Ethics. Of course, many philosophers write books that get professional traction. But the norm in the profession is that books must be backed up by journal articles in prestigious outlets. Before Rawls wrote Theory of Justice, he had published in The Philosophical Review. Hawthorne’s Knowledge and Lotteries and Williamson’s Knowledge and its Limits are backed up by dozens of articles in the “top-5” journals. Typically, though of course not always, the profession will pay attention only to those books whose authors have succeeded in the prestige journal game.
There is much to be said in favor of this. For example:
Journal articles prize rigor. Submissions are vetted by referees, who often provide detailed reports, raising important objections that authors may have overlooked. The best journals have acceptance rates of less than 10%. This functions as an important quality control mechanism.
Journals provide a credible signal. Given the low acceptance rates, and given that articles are vetted by experts in the field, a piece in a top journal is a great signal (though of course, not perfect) of the quality of the work. This provides a useful coordination point for evaluating someone’s research—say, in the hiring or promotion phase.
Citation practices. When I read something in Mind or Ethics, I can be relatively assured that the author has engaged with the relevant literature, and is likely making a genuinely new point. This is thanks to the rigorous review process by editors and referees.
But, there are plausibly some drawbacks too:
The typical journal article makes a narrow point—a small but rigorously made move within a large existing literature.
The medium, as it currently stands, encourages a particular mode of writing. Claims are often heavily hedged. There is a lot of signposting, which some may find tedious. (E.g.: In §2, I argue P. Then, in §3, I claim that the most plausible objections to P do not work…§7 concludes.)
This has led to a decline in interest in modern professional philosophy from general readers. The economist and blogger Tyler Cowen, who has himself written for top philosophical venues such as Philosophy & Public Affairs and Ethics, wrote last year:
Most professional philosophers seem to me more like bureaucrats than philosophers. They simply do not embody philosophic ideals, either in their writings or in their persons. Most of all I am inclined to reread philosophic classics, read something “Continental,” or read philosophic works that to most people would not count as philosophy at all. An excellent tweet on AI can be extraordinarily philosophical in the best sense of the term, and like most of the greatest philosophy from the past it is not restricted by the canons of refereed journals. Maxims have a long and noble history in philosophy.
As time has gone on, it would seem, the medium has evolved to prize a certain kind of bureaucratic philosophy, if Cowen’s take is right. (Nietzsche called this “philosophical labor” as opposed to philosophy.)
Even modern philosophical books are heavily influenced by what gets through in the journals. This is for two chief reasons:
Many books (especially scholarly monographs) are, essentially, the author’s journal articles stapled together, with an introduction giving an overview.
Given that professional philosophers have to make their names through the journal system, by the time they are able to write books, their writing style has been heavily influenced by the pressure of landing in the good journals.
3. The Classics of Philosophy
What’s striking though is that many of the classics of philosophy are not journal articles. Plato wrote dialogues. Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics is a compilation of his lecture notes. Spinoza, Kant, and Schopenhauer wrote systematic treatises defending big picture ideas. Wittgenstein’s Tractatus is a series of numbered propositions. And Nietzsche, apart from the Genealogy, wrote short essays and aphorisms.
Consider Nietzsche’s characterization of the philosopher, in Beyond Good and Evil:
Where could this be published today?
Certainly not in a top journal—a submission like this would invite an immediate desk rejection. I highly doubt it could be written in a monograph for a publisher like Oxford University Press—referees would ask for clarifications, citations, more hedged claims. By the time Nietzsche responded to the referees, the writing would look completely different. The explosive, bold style would be completely gone. It would be replaced by something like, “In this chapter, I propose a characterization of a philosopher that emphasizes versatility and a willingness to defend heterodox conclusions. I defend the view from several objections, including…” Not Nietzsche.
If he were alive today, Nietzsche would be on Substack.
4. Substack Philosophy
For the last several years, I have been playing the journal game. It has been enormously rewarding. Getting rigorous feedback from referees whose job it is to stress-test your ideas is a true privilege. And, of course, it has helped my career.
But I am excited to start writing on Substack, especially now that I have tenure. Moreover, it is encouraging to see so many excellent philosophers embrace the platform. I feel it is an especially great venue for:
Short exploratory essays that pose bold new questions.
Reactions to new books or ideas that might spark discussion, but where the author does not have the time or resources to spend 2+ years refining for a journal.
Alternative forms of writing, like dialogues.
Writing on emerging issues like AI, where by the time a journal article is accepted and published, the problem risks being outdated.
Given the uptake the platform has had with philosophers and other writers, we may well be at the beginning of a renaissance of sorts. Substack promises to help us make our ideas accessible and engaging to the public, without having to pass the gatekeepers. And, there is the option at least, of not having paywalls.
5. A Complement, Not A Substitute
All that said, I think Substack will work best as a complement, not a substitute to the journal system. As discussed above, the journal system plays a key role in promoting rigor and reliable professional evaluation. I, for one, plan to keep submitting to journals for as long as possible.
But it is a really exciting time for philosophical discourse on Substack. The possibilities are endless. If the medium is the message, the platform’s flexibility can help philosophers come up with new kinds of ideas and questions, beyond just giving us the opportunity to repackage our published work for a broader audience.
Blog on, friends!




While I’m sympathetic to a lot of what you say here, let me stick up for the journal ecosystem.
I totally agree Nietzsche would have a hard time publishing in today’s philosophy journals, and would more likely be writing for a broader and less specialized audience (like on Substack). But that’s not a reason to lament the existence of the journal ecosystem; after all, venues for reaching those broader and less specialized audiences exist, and don’t really compete with journals.
My sense is the sort of stuff that people write for a broader audience would get written whether or not professional academic philosophy existed, but the sort of stuff people write for professional philosophy journals probably doesn’t exist in a world without the journal ecosystem. Maybe not all of it, but especially the more technical stuff. I agree Nietzsche would be writing on Substack rather than in Phil Review, but would Timothy Williamson or David Lewis have ever come to prominence if they had to chase clicks on Substack to get noticed? I suspect not, and that would have been a serious loss.
Maybe it’s Panglossian, and it’s certainly self-serving, so take this with several grains of salt, but I think the existence of a “bureaucratic” track for establishing oneself as someone worth paying attention to on philosophical matters, alongside the more small-d democratic track of just attracting clicks/shares/comments, is a net improvement to the intellectual landscape.
After all, I wouldn’t have subscribed to your Substack in the first place if I didn’t already know you from (excellent!) journal articles. In a world where there’s so much writing, credible signals of what’s worth reading are really important. So even if you think plenty of people do their best writing outside the constraints of the journal system (and while I think that’s sometimes true, I also think there are some great journal articles), you might still be grateful for the journal system for certifying those people as ones to read once they stretch out a bit.
Edit: You basically say all this at the end with complement, not substitute. Should have read closer! Well, I guess I just agree, and am emphasizing that last bit.
Agree with all this. Which leads me to my problem with Substack: I agree with far too much of what the philosophers who I follow write on it. I worry that it is becoming a kind of vaguely heterodox echo chamber.