The Creator Haters: Staying Human in a Machine World
Why performative contrarianism thrives online — and what real creators do instead.
Some weeks on Substack, engagement drifts.
A couple of weeks ago, it sparked.
I write daily Notes to jolt you awake — to get you out of your head and remind you of what you’re capable of.
Most days, they pass by.
This one didn’t.
One short, spartan Note drew a challenge — a reminder that not everyone comes to listen; some come to win.
I ultimately disengaged.
The squeeze wasn’t worth the juice.
If we were in the same room, we could talk it over a latte.
We’d probably find we agreed.
But this wasn’t coffee and conversation.
This was theater.
And I didn’t have a dog in the hunt.
This isn’t the first contrarian I’ve run across here.
Substack is fertile ground for them.
They’re all over social media — especially X, Reddit, TikTok, the list goes on.
Some are brilliant. Some I respect.
But lately, I’ve seen the rise of what I call the Contrarian Characters.
These are almost always cloaked personas.
They show up with clickbait titles, take aim at whoever posts that day, and declare themselves anti-establishment.
They are always right.
And — surprise — you’re doing it wrong.
I’ve studied them.
Their fire-and-brimstone style is intoxicating.
I’ve wanted to grab a torch too.
But as a burn victim from life itself, I know low BTUs when I feel them.
It doesn’t take long to notice their patterns —
Three tells that give every Contrarian Character away.
Tell 1: The Faceless Brands
Sure, you sound powerful. But who are you?
You tell me you’ve “been there, done that.”
When? To what extent?
Without a name or a face, we can’t verify.
That’s the point. We can’t.
There’s a difference between privacy and performance.
Some pseudonymous writers guard their names but still show their work — you can feel the truth in their craft.
The Contrarian type doesn’t.
We have to trust the passion — and the mask.
Sometimes a mask is worn due to fear — which I get.
Fear’s natural when you’re first finding a voice.
But sometimes it’s cover.
The faceless “Corporate Badass” who tells you what you’re doing wrong … but actually works a cubicle job just like you do.
The “Sparkle Goddess” who tells you your cortisol levels are too high and you should be living a “soft-girl life” … but is so better-than-us she can’t show her face without a filter?
Not all pseudonyms are like this.
I follow many pseudonymous writers whose work I admire.
But the Contrarian type hides, sows discord, shields transparency.
Tell 2: Tears Down Others
A common growth-hacker playbook says: identify a villain to deliver better value for your audience.
Good advice — when used with care.
But Contrarians don’t stop there.
They drag other creators in the comments, belittling rather than building.
They disguise destruction as discernment.
Their “rage” makes them feel more righteous.
This has become the new sport of the internet: performative takedowns.
Rage as brand strategy.
Their audience claps, the algorithm rewards them, and everyone leaves angrier and a little emptier.
Critique builds discourse.
But commercialized contempt? It’s actually a form of dependency.
The contrarian thrives only as long as someone else has the courage to create.
Then, and only then, can they take them down.
Write to advance a cause you believe in?
We’ll be with you to the end.
Torch another’s work?
You’re just a pyromaniac playing with matches.
Tell 3: The Ever-Elusive Elixir
Let’s say we like the edgy tone and your four-letter angst.
Let’s say we think you might know something we don’t.
Then what?
Other than attitude, what do I walk away with?
Are we smarter? Stronger? Better?
“Personality sales” work in the short term (yes, that’s what they are).
But at some point the audience realizes: all surface, no substance.
Snake oil in digital packaging.
Fire is meant to shape or to clear.
Left unchecked, it devours.
If a piece leaves you only burning, it hasn’t forged you — it has consumed you.
I’ve been on Substack since 2023.
First it was an outlet.
Now we’re building a community.
In that time I’ve watched the rise of the Contrarian Characters.
Loud. Faceless. Certain.
Here’s the raw truth: contrarians aren’t creators.
They aren’t original thinkers.
They need something to push against.
They chase the last word.
Creators actually build things.
They want to create words that last.
When I was younger, I could’ve been pegged as a contrarian myself.
Cooler, sharper, always in the know.
But life has a way of burning the cleverness out of you.
Now I stand in my words.
I can show you my burns.
And I can disengage when the heat is pointless.
This is how we stay human in an ever-increasing machine world:
Stand in your words.
Show your scars.
Build something that lasts.
Raise humanity.
Humans are not here to burn you.
We’re here to forge you.
The internet operates like a digital coliseum —
its economy built on conflict, its spectators hungry for heat.
Creation, though — that’s where the real power doesn’t have to hide.
The companion guide, The Reaction Trap, drops Friday inside The Vault.
It’s an audit for when you’re tempted to respond instead of rise.
Subscribe to access it — and stay human in the machine.