For years, the creator economy has been dominated by video platforms like TikTok, Instagram Reels, and YouTube Shorts.
It makes sense why video platforms hold a large share of digital attention: video content is awesome. It’s easy to consume, and people like it (even when it comes from brands). Stats show 91% of consumers say they want more video from brands.
Video content is here to stay, but attention doesn’t always translate into value (for creators and brands). Some of the most valuable creator content lives in a much quieter place: the inbox.
The proof is in the numbers. Substack, for example, currently has 35 million subscriptions and over 5 million paid subscriptions. This shows that we humans may have attention spans longer than a goldfish after all. And we’re actively engaged in consuming (and paying for) long-form content.
While Substack’s long-form model continues to grow, it’s hard to ignore the attractive pull of video content and a social-feed format. That’s why Substack recently raised $100 million and launched a TV app designed to compete with YouTube.
But this move raises some big questions for creator economy experts: If Substack built its success on direct, subscriber relationships rather than feed-driven distribution, why move toward it now? And is that the right call?
Objectively, it’s not hard to see why Substack is growing its video features. Video is king, and it creates new ways for creators (and brands) to reach audiences who may never sign up for a newsletter in the first place. The shift to video is already paying off, as posts with videos grew 135% year over year.
And while video still accounts for a small share of overall Substack content, adoption among top Substack creators is increasing. 82% of its 250 highest-earning writers now publish audio or video.
Substack is continuing to build around this behavior. Creators can publish videos directly from the mobile app, host livestreams, and distribute content through Notes and other discovery surfaces.
But this is where things start to get interesting. The more Substack behaves like a video platform, the more it moves away from what made it special in the first place. It’s always been a direct, subscriber-first model built on trust rather than feed-driven discovery.
There’s a big difference between stopping a scroll with a fun video and earning a place in someone’s inbox. Substack’s charm is that it’s built on the second.
The value of Substack lies in its investment in the creator-subscriber relationship through long-form written content—more like a book someone loves, delivering a new piece of an ongoing story with every message. When a subscriber hears from a writer they like every week, familiarity, habit, and trust build over time.
That’s exactly what happens when Lia Haberman lands in my inbox each week. I open her emails, read, click through her curated links, and pay attention to what she’s saying. After three years of showing up consistently, she’s earned my trust—and eventually, my paid subscription.
As a subscriber, my relationship to Haberman is direct. She doesn’t compete for my attention in the moment, and there’s no need to re-earn trust or visibility every time she publishes.
(And, note to brands: When Haberman highlights a sponsor, tool, or event, I pay attention).
Video works differently. It’s built for discovery and designed to pull in new audiences. It typically lives in environments where content has to win attention over and over again, often in a feed. That’s part of what makes it powerful. It introduces creators and brands to people who weren’t looking for them and creates new paths for growth.
But video doesn’t scale on its own. It depends on systems that surface it, including feeds, recommendations, and distribution layers that decide what gets seen. Once those systems matter more, the incentives start to change. Content is shaped by what performs, what travels, and what holds attention long enough to keep moving.
That shift changes where value is created. On Substack, value compounds through consistency. A reader subscribes, shows up, and builds a relationship over time. With video, value expands through reach. More people see the content, more often, but each interaction carries less weight on its own.
That's the collision Substack is now navigating. The more the platform rewards feed-driven behavior, the more it asks creators to play a different game—one that Haberman, for the record, doesn't need to play to reach me.
That's exactly the point.
Then, there’s the larger question of whether we even need another video platform that mirrors others, especially in a market that’s already highly defined.
YouTube alone reaches more than 2.7 billion monthly users and accounts for over a billion hours of video watched every day. TikTok has over 1.5 billion monthly active users globally, with users spending an average of 95 minutes per day on the app. And Instagram reaches more than 3 billion monthly active users, with video formats like Reels driving a significant share of time spent on the platform.
Social platforms already have video covered to the tune of at least ~25% of the global population. And Substack isn't going to out-YouTube YouTube. That's not even a game worth playing.
Substack’s advantage has never been short-form video, quick reach, or instant discoverability. It’s always been stability, long-term relationships, and deeper, more thoughtful engagement.
And that’s where creators can win on Substack. That’s what brands can expect when they look outside of the video content box and invest in partnerships with long-form content creators.
The $100M raise and the YouTube-competitor TV app make for a good headline. But for brands, the more important story (at least on Substack) isn’t what’s making headlines.
It's finding the niche Substack creator with 40,000 paid subscribers who hasn't posted a Reel in her life. The writer whose open rates are four times the industry average because his readers chose to be there. The newsletter that earns more per subscriber in a single send than most social posts earn in a week of boosting.
Those creators exist because Substack built something different: a platform where audiences opt in, pay up, and keep coming back. Video might expand that universe. But it doesn't change what's inherently valuable about Substack.
Substack creators don’t need video to influence, because they’ve already built the kind of trust that drives attention, clicks, and action.
And for brands, that opens up a different kind of opportunity. You don’t need a viral clip or a high-production campaign to reach an engaged audience. You can partner with creators who already have their audience’s attention.