Rationalisation: From King David to Substack Writers
Substack without numbers idolatry challenge—failed.
Substack writers imagining a world where we stopped measuring everything challenge: No likes, no subscribers, no follower counts—failed.
I observed the recent notes or posts on Substack about how to write what your followers/subscribers want, how to grow from X to Y numbers game plan, etc. Metrics, metrics everywhere.
Although I understand where the urgency came from, there’s a triggering element as the common thread across these writing products (notes/posts/podcasts): numbers.
Before pointing fingers at capitalism or humankind, let’s jog down our collective memory lane to remember how these creatures came into our existence.
History of Numbers
The history of numbers begins with early civilisations, in a proto-cuneiform numeral system. The Sumerians are credited with creating this first known system of writing numbers on clay tablets around 3400 BCE. This system was revolutionary for record-keeping, especially for trade and agriculture. The purpose was understandably practical to count the goods, measure the land, and settle trades.
It wasn’t so much for personal gain to the extent of how we tread on the modern way of thinking.
One notable example of how the number system was used for personal gain is right in the Bible, on the account of King David. In 2 Samuel 24, he ordered his chief of the army, Joab, to count the number of the people in Israel and Judah.
Guess what happened to the great king once God saw his undertaking?
The Lord, through the prophet Gad, held over 3 things: 3 years of famine, three months of pursuit by the enemies, or three days’ pestilence, and the king selected pestilence, which he also regretted because of the great calamity of the plague.
(There’s more to this as to why the census was a sin, the scope of this post is not to discuss that.)
Just as King David’s census was misguided because it relied on numbers instead of faith in God’s ultimate kingship, today’s writers (yes, that includes me) may lose sight of the true purpose of our work by focusing too much on metrics.
A comforting breakfast of jumbo oat porridge on a slow autumn morning drizzled in. The wee pockets of peace can’t be measured in numbers.
How did we get into this number idolatry?
We’ve come a long way to worship numbers as our obsession towards them has become idolatry. Need more proof?
Especially in modern capitalist societies, numbers have come to represent value—whether it’s profit margins, performance metrics, or social media followers. Technology and social media have amplified this obsession. Algorithms thrive on engagement metrics, and our brains seem wired to crave these measurable forms of validation.
Sociologist Max Weber was the one who talked about the “rationalisation” of society—where everything becomes subject to measurement, efficiency, and calculation.
Modern society began to prioritise efficiency, control, and predictability over other values like tradition, emotion, or spontaneity. Therefore, we can see that numbers have a strong grip over humanity.
Do you remember when you were a child and created art for the sake of creating it? You only wanted to liberate the idea so it could run free in this beautiful world, taking the form of your preference—words, colours, tunes, or movements.
Substack writers are not exempt from the temptation to measure their success in numbers. After all, who are we if not human beings who are confined to the standards and machinery of the world? The number of likes, followers count, and comments occupy our minds as we’re logged into the system.
Speaking of confinement, Weber linked rationalisation to the development of bureaucracies, which are highly structured systems that function based on rules, data, and efficiency. He warned that this could lead to the “iron cage” of modern life, where people become trapped in systems that value efficiency at the expense of freedom and agency.
During the pandemic, I started on Netflix (thanks to my colleague who was kind enough to share the username and password for the guest account), and I watched a couple of Black Mirror episodes. Nosedive haunted me, but before long, we’re in that similar dystopia.
Our life has been dictated by numbers.
Areas of Impact
The consequences of this post-modern rationalisation reach a vast range of impacts.
Creativity
It started like a daisy chain, building up on a similar topic that grows viral in self-sustaining growth. Instead of writing what’s authentic to their voice and experience, writers may feel pressured to chase what performs well. Tinkering with unique ideas feels less important than replicating trends that boost the metrics.
Mental Health
The constant pressure to achieve measurable success can lead to burnout, anxiety, and a sense of inadequacy when our numbers don’t grow as fast as expected. Here’s a soothing reality: you’re not alone in feeling inadequate, especially in community building. The other day I jotted down this Note.
The only thing that keeps me back on this platform is I’ve still got so much to say and my ideas need to get off my brain, lest they fester into rumination.
Just as stagnant water can breed bacteria, stagnant energy various illnesses.
Relationships
With chasing numbers, quantity can easily displace quality in the relationships between the writers and their audience in the community.
Let’s be honest here: give me a show of hand if you’ve got more than 10 people in real life you keep in touch with every day.
But followers or subscribers?
Exactly.
Work and Productivity
In workplaces, productivity is increasingly measured by numbers—sales, KPIs, and other metrics. While this can improve efficiency, it can also reduce work to a set of calculations rather than the joyful interactions between humans to improve life.
If measured work, as the pinnacle of the capitalist system, stifles creativity, what difference can writing, hailed as a temporary escape from the graft, really make when we still gauge its success by the same metrics?
Health Anxiety
Although I’ve listed mental health in point 2, this last point is an honourable mention from my personal experience of my healing journey.
Long story short, I took the healthy eating recommendation too far. What started as an innocent lifestyle change to optimise my cholesterol and blood glucose levels turned into an all-or-nothing thinking that prevented me from enjoying meals prepared by others.
Or, if I “had” to make an allowance, say, because I wanted to taste new delicious foods, I had to “prepare” myself in advance by compensating for much “cleaner” foods as meals days before the event, so that I knew the cheat meal wouldn’t topple my weekly or monthly toxin allowance.
You can read this convoluted thinking process here.
I noted down my preferred numbers for these health metrics in my journal and got them checked annually or twice a year.
Despite people commending me, due to my predisposition for general anxiety, this lifestyle brings up much trouble when I travel or socialise.
(I’m still committed to this lifestyle as I believe in the long-term health benefits and it transforms people around me by spreading awareness.)
Are you telling me not to number my impact?
Readers will complain if I just present the consequences of tracking everything in numbers without proposing a healthier alternative to live by.
Years ago I had an opportunity to attend the Ubud Writers’ Festival and I remember one key point of a talk. It was delivered at a traditional restaurant with the bamboo hut architecture. The speaker was one of the authors writing social critique. If I’m not mistaken, the theme was also about the POC authors.
He mentioned something like this:
Literature must become the voice of the marginalised who do not have a platform.
If the numbers fall short, reaching a wider audience becomes a challenge, making it harder to shine a light on your noble goals.
In short, remember the network effect: the more “users” you have the higher or deeper the adoption of your technology is. Apply that to your writing cause.
Years in technology companies, I understood firsthand that a delicate balance has to be maintained to please the investors as well as answer the users’ needs. I’ll draw a resemblance by replacing the word “users” with “readers” below.
Both numbers—investment and the metrics—fuel each other. Catering to the large demographic of readers, pandering to what’s interesting to them, may compromise your writing style and what you consider important. But not everyone can write something different and amass readers overnight.
Even for those who write consistently for months, me for example—been here for a year—, my audience number is on the low end. But every article that I posted articulates my thoughts at that point, as shown in the evolution of my topics and depth.
Balance in writing is like seasoning your dish with salt, not bland but not salty, just enough, and it comes with practice and experience.
Before we wrap up, the opening sentence of this post can initiate a self-check.
If you’re working for your cause, can you catch where the sweet spot between pandering and personality lies?
Lastly, dare you keep publishing the articles without bothering the numbers?
In all seriousness, though, how different would our lives be?
Before you close the tab . . .
The Gentle Roadmap is a publication centred on a holistic healing journey. As a practising Catholic, the articles sometimes portray my layperson experience with the faith. If you like my writing and want to be notified of new posts, please subscribe (it’s always free). You’re always welcome here regardless.
Until next time,
Appreciating this article 👏. I've been here for years just writing and not selling. This platform wasn't a numbers game for me or a moment to monetize, it was meant as a creative outlet to a cathartic writing practice. I've kept my focus on my intentions, but the drive to produce something worth value consumes.