How can we charge for our work while still promoting equitable access?

You can charge for your work without excluding or exploiting the needy among your readers.

This started as a messaging thread with Desiree Stephens about why she should be charging for her work. So I suppose “Why Desiree Needs to Charge for Her Work” might be a more accurate, but slightly less eye-catching, title.

This is a bonus piece of content for all subscribers. Sometimes I write content that’s a bit outside of my usual wheelhouse, so I publish that outside of my usual editorial calendar. I know many of my readers are themselves writers, or interested in becoming writers, and I hope pieces like this empower and inspire you to keep working at it. You can find other pieces I’ve written about making a career as a writer here.

Writing—especially writing about social justice—is valuable, time-consuming work. We’ve always undervalued writing, but in a world where you can read what everyone thinks for free on social media, writing seems even less valuable. Good, thoughtful, confronting, unique work, though, makes our lives better. It tosses seeds of hope into the future. It matters.

The best work requires significant skill and wisdom. And that’s why writers must charge for their work. This is challenging for those of us deeply invested in economic justice. We never want to turn someone away who cannot pay, and we certainly don’t want people scraping together their last few dollars to fund our work.

Many writers have resorted to a “pay what you can” model, hoping to build equitable and sustainable models. These models don’t work. Here’s why I think writers must charge for our work—indeed, why I think justice demands that we charge.

A quick primer on earning money as a writer

Doing something for the pure love of it is a myth. The only people who can do that are the super-wealthy. Everyone else needs money to live.

If you make your living as a writer, there are basically three ways to earn money:

1. You can get hired by someone else. This means they control your work. This is what both freelance and employed journalists do. It’s how traditionally published authors make money, too. These writers often see their work limited by the commercial and political interests of their employers. And their employers charge subscribers (or book buyers).

2. You can accept advertisements. This might mean placing ads on your blog, doing product placements, doing paid promotions on TikTok, etc. This will always color your work. It can also influence your work, since advertisers may not want to work with people who offend others.

3. You can directly charge the people who want to read your work. This is the Substack model.

Why a pay-what-you-can model is not sustainable

Many Substack creators, in the interest of economic justice, have switched to a voluntary payment model. They encourage people to pay what they can afford, hoping that wealthier subscribers will chip in more to help pay for people who can afford nothing.

Most people do not pay for things when they don’t have to. This is not a malicious decision. Many simply forget that the work takes, well, work. Others may forget that there’s an option to pay, or that they could be paying. And a large share, yes, just don’t want to have to pay for something they could get for free.

My experience is that, the greater a person’s ability to pay becomes, the more their willingness to pay shrinks. It’s why rich people are so often terrible tippers, and why poor people are often the first to give to mutual aid funds. Those who struggle financially are closer to the world of financial terror. They understand what it’s like, and so they want to lift up others. Those with financial means are divorced from the everyday reality of normal people. Many believe they are more deserving of financial resources than others. But even when they don’t, their disconnection from daily financial challenges means they underestimate how much money other people need to survive.

So what really happens in a pay-what-you-can model is most people don’t pay at all, leaving the writer continuously exhausting herself for an audience that won’t show its appreciation.

It’s a financially regressive system, because those who understand financial struggles are far more likely to chip in, while the wealthiest readers will very likely never pay a penny—let alone pay extra to help fund the poorest readers.

Even more reasons to charge for your work

If your work is valuable enough to make your living producing it, you need to charge for it. Charging for your work can also help people better perceive its value. A person who is willing to pay a small sum for your work is invested in you and your work, and will more readily acknowledge the value you bring.

Additionally, charging encourages people to pay. That seems obvious and silly, but think about how busy life can be. Even if you want to donate money to a content creator you love, you might not. When work you desire goes behind a paywall, it’s a reminder that that work is indeed work, and that you should pay for it. The paywall is a gentle reminder that what you are doing matters, and it reminds the good people who read you to pay you.

Social justice creators, especially women and especially marginalized women, deserve to be paid for their work. Writing about oppression is emotionally taxing, particularly when you are doing so as an oppressed person. Don’t let shame, socialization, and entitled men drown out your voice. Endlessly working for free is unsustainable, and means that your work will eventually be supplanted by the entitled white men who happily charge for gibberish.

How to equitably charge for your work

If you’re doing world-changing work, it’s fair to charge. But what about the people who can’t afford to pay to have their world changed? This is the conundrum so many of us grapple with.

Here’s what I’ve come up with: no-questions-asked financial scholarships.

Tell your readers that anyone can get a one-year scholarship if, and only if, they tell you they cannot afford to pay. This attestation that they cannot afford to pay is important, because most people will not lie. Wealthy people especially are not comfortable coming to someone and saying they can’t afford to pay for their services. So this approach tends to eliminate people who would exploit your goodwill, leaving only people who are in actual need.

I don’t require proof of inability to pay, and I don’t think you should either.

Readers: what are your strategies for promoting economic justice in a world where we all have to make money? I’m curious about how other professions have found ways to survive while minimizing exploitation. Feel free to share your ideas in the comments.