I’m Still Standing. The Algorithm Just Cut Me Off.
How XVOA is rebuilding distribution without losing its spine.
I’m still writing, and the only reason I’m here is because of you. You gave me the encouragement I needed to keep at this writing thing, step by step, even when it was just me and a phone screen trying to make a life out of sentences.
You didn’t just “support a creator.” You invested in the work. You made it possible for me to do this full time for you, to report, to think, to write like it matters. You signed up for the novel I’ve been dragging into existence in the margins. And when new subscriptions dried up, you answered the call anyway. Last week you bought me time with $1,200, enough runway to keep this publication standing. And to everyone who chipped in on that $1,200, thank you. I don’t take that lightly.
So when I say the algorithm cut me off, I’m not asking you to fix it. I’m telling you what I’m up against.
Stunned
I’m still kind of stunned by the numbers, because the reversal wasn’t gradual. It was sudden. It feels like getting laid off, except nobody walked me out of the building. The building just disappeared. One week you’re showing up to work, the next week you’re standing in a parking lot staring at an empty lot like, wait, was I crazy to think this place was real?
And the wild part is I haven’t slowed down. I’ve been hammering this keyboard harder these last couple of weeks, publishing, recording, pushing, trying to earn my way back into the light, and it’s come back with almost nothing in subscriber growth, paid or free. Over the past three weeks, XVOA is down 140 subscribers. If this keeps trending the way it’s trending, I think it gets worse before it gets better. XVOA could easily shed another 200 before the curve turns.
So let me make this transactional for a second. I’m not writing this to vent and leave you with vibes. I’m writing this because I’ve been studying what’s happening like a detective studies a crime scene, and I want to walk you through what I think changed, what that means for XVOA, and exactly what I’m doing to fight my way back into distribution.
Research
Here’s the research I’ve been chewing on, because I refused to sit here and just call this “my fault” without looking under the hood.
First, there is at least some anecdotal, writer-level chatter that a platform-wide shift hit around January 2026. Not one writer. A bunch. Same pattern. Lower opens, stalled growth, posts that suddenly felt invisible. When you see the same symptom show up across unrelated newsletters at the same time, that usually points to a weighting change, not a single creator “falling off.” (lintra.substack.com)
Second, Substack itself has been talking more openly about how the feed works and why it exists. Translation: the app is not just a mailbox anymore. It’s a recommendation engine. That matters because you can still have a stable core audience, still get your opens, still get views, and yet lose that “network faucet” that used to drip new people into your world. (on.substack.com)
Third, and this is the part that keeps landing like a punch, Substack is clearly signaling what it wants to reward next. They have been pushing live video hard, not as a cute feature, but as a discoverability play. They are building tools designed to reach new audiences “on and off the platform,” and they are auto-generating clips after livestreams to circulate in the feed. That’s not subtle. (on.substack.com)
Fourth, there are actual creator testimonies floating around that live video, especially co-hosting, has produced subscriber bumps. In Digiday, a few writers describe going live with other creators and watching subscriber counts jump afterward. That is not magic. That is distribution. Two audiences, one stream, and the platform has more reason to surface it. (digiday.com)
Fifth, I’ve been keeping my eyes on fellow creators in my orbit. The ones who have surpassed me, and the ones who are catching up fast. And I hate to admit how obvious the pattern is once you see it: the one thing they all have in common is the extensive use of video. Not a clip here and there. Not an occasional upload. I mean video as a steady heartbeat, the kind of output that keeps showing up in feeds, keeps faces familiar, keeps the platform convinced you belong in front of new people.
Finally, Substack is expanding the physical “real estate” where video can be discovered. They launched a Substack TV app in beta with a “For You” row highlighting videos and recommended videos. Any time a platform builds new shelves, it starts rearranging what it puts on them. (on.substack.com)
My strategy going forward
The in depth, receipts first, personal infused writing is not going anywhere. If anything, this lockout just proved I have to protect it. The change is the wrapper. From here on out, each major post will have a sister format. An audio podcast version and, when the topic calls for it, a recorded video livestream where you can watch me work through the receipts in real time.
Because the old era is done where I could publish a text post, hit send to my email list, and just hope it spreads to strangers through the Substack network. That was a nice dream. It was also a particular moment on the platform.
Here is why this part matters. If I do not adapt to how the platform works now, this publication does not just “slow down.” It enters a death spiral.
Every publication has churn. Churn is the natural leak in the bucket. People unsubscribe. People cancel paid. People turn off email because their inbox is a war zone. People hit a rough patch financially. People get busy, get burned out, get sick, move on. It is not always personal. It is math.
And here is the cold truth: the only way to beat churn is with growth. Not ego growth. Replacement growth. You have to bring in more new people than you lose, or the list shrinks. When the list shrinks, reach shrinks. When reach shrinks, discovery shrinks. When discovery shrinks, the churn hurts even more. That is the spiral.
So this is not me being dramatic. This is me being responsible. The work stays the same. The way it travels has to change.
I was extremely lucky to be in the right place and the right time. Substack was actively promoting new, diverse, smaller creators, and that wave carried a lot of us forward.
And yes, my writing skill did play a part in that. I’m not going to pretend it didn’t. You can’t fake the receipts. You can’t fake the consistency. You can’t fake the trust. But I can also admit I got a little deluded when the checkmark and the momentum hit. I started to confuse platform wind at my back with a guarantee.
What changed is what the platform is rewarding now. My own orbit is showing it. Video is becoming the front door. I spent this whole weekend building a repeatable video workflow that turns the same research and receipts into livestreams you can watch, then clips and audio you can share.
If you do not want video, nothing changes for you. You will have full transcripts, formatted for reading, not much different than the posts you have already grown used to.
And yes, there will always be certain topics, like my novel, or posts like this, where I prefer a simple email to subscribers and nothing more.
So here is what I’m doing. I’m not changing what I do. I’m changing how it travels. Every deep dive stays. Every receipt stays. The personal voice stays. Now it comes tied to audio and live video footage so the work can actually reach new people again. The writing remains the spine. The audio and video become the distribution muscles.
Here’s the ask. If this work has ever helped you make sense of a story that was being buried, if it saved you time, if it gave you language for something you felt but could not quite name, upgrading to paid is how you keep XVOA alive while the platform shifts under our feet.
Paid is not a tip jar. It is payroll for the receipts. It is time to research, time to write, time to record, time to keep showing up when the feed goes cold. If you already stepped up last week, I see you and I am grateful. If you cannot right now, stay with me and share the audio or clips when they drop.
But if you can, this is the link.
Help me keep the lights on while I climb back over this gate.
Sources
— Writer-reported January 2026 pattern of visibility and open-rate shifts. (lintra.substack.com)
— Substack’s explanation of the feed and how discovery works in-app. (on.substack.com)
— Substack outlining live video improvements aimed at discoverability. (on.substack.com)
— Substack announcing live video rollout and positioning it as a core feature. (on.substack.com)
https://digiday.com/media/how-substack-creators-are-pooling-audiences-with-live-video-co-hosting/ — Creator testimonies describing subscriber bumps from co-hosted live video. (digiday.com)
— Substack TV app beta, including “For You” video recommendations. (on.substack.com)
Thank you for this explanation; it really does explain a lot. Jenn Budd has been warning this for a while. I'm really disappointed in Substack. When I found it I thought, finally, a place where I can read - read, not hear or watch - other people's thoughts in peace, in my own time, and have my own thoughts in response. Quietly. I almost never watch a video, and rarely listen to them. There are so. many. voices, each louder and more hyperbolic than the other, aggressively demanding ALL my attention RIGHT NOW. Reminds me of a room full of hungry tired 2-year-olds. When I scroll the sound is off, and usually when I see a video I just roll on by. Usually they're not that interesting - talking heads with headphones. I do brake for animals. I'll continue to look for you, Xavier, and open and read what you have to say. On my own time. I appreciate you.
Here’s my take: like any platform that starts with good intentions, Substack has possibly had a date with $$$$$$$$$ potential and snorted the line. Once that happens, manipulation starts, and all initial goals—to provide a forum for writers on every subject—turns into $omething else.
People also want to be “entertained.” What better medium than video, complete with theatrics, music, and other tricks to keep their attention (read Amusing Ourselves to Death by Neil Postman, who predicted what I’m talking about in the 80s). Add that Tik-tok is up in the air, and you won’t wonder why Substack has moved in that direction.
You are a WRITER. You captured me because you tell the story (receipts and all) but you also MOVE me. That is art (and I’m a creative, so I’m impressed when I can FEEL others).
You write about politics with an artist’s soul and a cop’s brain. That makes you unique. But you write about a hugely dominating subject, the Trump world of politics). And so do LOTS of others (more every day). Add that MSM is dying, and lots of pros like Don Lemon, Jim Acosta and Katie Phang have Substacks, and there’s only so much people can read in a day, so maybe you get lost in the shuffle. Or fewer people see you (which is why re-stacks are so important).
I watched Pinterest go to shit when it monetized. You know my Medium story. My daughter got stopped by Spotify whose founder swore he would never monetize (yeah, right, sure).
I don’t have to tell you what a discipline writing is. My sister would say, “Too many people.” That certainly makes the competition stiffer. And I definitely think the deck is stacked against raw talent, pure talent (you) without a schtick.
I’m sorry your numbers are down. It’s probably some fucking algorithm which makes it nearly impossible—even with your analytical skill—to compete with and stay true to yourself. I stopped writing for this very reason: I’m not hardcore enough to go through what you are and not take it personally. I wish I could help you. I don’t have any clout, though. I won’t play the game. So, I just try to be the cheerleader for people like you and others I respect.
I appreciate your honesty in this age of non-stop lies and spin in politics, and I hope it propels you to the top (if it’s what you want). And I will always read what you have to say because I can FEEL it.