"If there are nine people sitting at a table and a Nazi sits down, and nobody gets up, there are ten Nazis at the table." – Unknown

When people first started saying Substack had a Nazi problem, I did what most of us do. I rationalized it. I assumed they were using "Nazi" the way the internet uses it—loosely, carelessly, as a blunt rhetorical weapon. Maybe it was white supremacist adjacent content hiding behind edgy language. Maybe it was dubious newsletters with dogwhistles that linked to actual extremist groups but maintained plausible deniability.

What I did not expect was to find actual, mask-off, unambiguous Nazi content. Full-blown antisemitism. Newsletters celebrating and promoting National Socialism. Not buried in some dark corner—hosted openly, on a platform where I was also publishing my work.

If you don't believe me, go look at what was at natsoctoday1.substack.com. Or read the reporting. It's all there:

That last one is almost darkly funny. Accidentally promoted a Nazi newsletter through push notifications. An algorithm so indifferent to the content it amplifies that it just... pushed Nazism to people's phones. Like a coupon for hate.

This reminds me of something I learned early in my career. When you build software, the defaults matter. The things a platform chooses to allow, the content it monetizes, the guardrails it refuses to install—those aren't neutral decisions. They're architectural choices. A platform that takes a cut from Nazi content isn't a free speech champion. It's a business partner.

I've thought about this the way I think about any system design problem. There's always a tradeoff. Substack made theirs: growth and "openness" over basic human decency. And look, I'm no stranger to messy tradeoffs in tech. But there's a line. And if your platform is literally making revenue from people who celebrate genocide, you've blown past that line at full speed.

So I'm out. I've backed up everything to my blog, where it always should have lived anyway. You can find me on Hachyderm.

The bar metaphor is overused, but it's overused because it's true. If a Nazi sits down at your bar and you serve them, you've made a choice. If you profit from serving them, you've made an even louder one. And I don't want to drink at that bar.

Peace.