Recently, I read that @lunaticoin, in his latest interview with @Darthcoin, received a very significant economic value in return. This comes as no surprise, because if you haven’t listened to this particular episode yet, it’s like missing out on an educational rollercoaster ride. It feels as though you already know the topic, but with every passing second, every slide, you find yourself paying close attention—not just for the entertainment value, but because it genuinely seeks to teach alongside the user. It’s a strange sentiment, I know, but that’s how I felt.
Now, dear friends of SN, what brings us to this conversation?
Writing1 has many facets. Some write for the sats, earning them the (in)appropriate nickname of “ass-milkers.” They write to earn satoshis but without contributing anything meaningful, simply chasing gains at all costs. Should you sacrifice your thoughts to say something popular, avoid arguments, or avoid being labeled as someone with stupid ideas? The “ass-milker” does just that. They lack authenticity and, in the cultural battle, they’ll be the first to fall because they have nothing to offer except brain junk food.
There are those who write to learn. This category of writers tends to produce long-form content that is often fascinating. In their process of learning, they leave breadcrumbs that, at least in my case, I follow and learn from.
I’ve identified several of these writers here—they’re my favorites. I’ve even subscribed to them, allowing notifications every time they post something. Mind you, I’m someone who keeps my phone on focus mode, only allowing calls from my inner circle and no notifications from any messaging apps. Speaking as a Christian, notifications are Satan’s invention, designed to enslave me.
Then there’s the final category of writers: the others. They write purely for fun, for the sheer joy of it, to share what’s on their mind with the world, and aim to elevate others, encouraging similar thoughts. I’ve found many of them on various forums, and they do monumental work.
Why are we talking about writers?
The recent debates I’ve followed regarding the creative economy have left a strong impression on me. First, a fascinating discussion about music and the economy, and then suggestions on how to improve Stacker News to fairly compensate writers without devolving into just another Reddit.
And this is the main point I’d like to address again: value-for-value aims to be the new focus of the creative economy. Let’s simplify: excluding the first type of writer mentioned above, writers don’t write because they want money; they write because they have to. Many times, we’ve written dozens of articles, essays, even books (in my case) without earning a penny, but with the complete satisfaction of having written. We smile when people ask if we have material to share. Oh, God, do we ever.
Writers are irrational
We are human beings who need to express ourselves. That’s why, when I write on platforms like this, I know I’m making an impact, and I measure it through zaps, downzaps, and comments. Tell me one writer who doesn’t love comments or enjoy leaving comments on others’ work.
Our craft is not about agreeing with the audience. Our craft is not about shaking our hips on a pole for money. Our craft is about intervening in people’s thoughts. One reason I love the V4V economy is that everyone does the best they can with what they have. Sometimes, you’re broke; other times, your wallet overflows, letting you show your generosity. Sometimes, observing comments is better than money. In fact, they tried to turn writers into rational beings, and as a direct result, we’ve flooded the internet with junk food for the brain.
As a writer with profiles on Medium and Substack (previously WordPress, Tumblr, and others), I’m aware of the stats available to me. But at the end of the day—this is something I’ve learned over time—none of those metrics matter except the only one that does:
- Are people talking about your article?
- Have you joined the conversation?
- Are you making your audience think?
Writers don’t write for money. If they do, they’re called salespeople, not writers. That’s why artificial intelligence can write an entire book, but it can’t replicate the essence. AI helps edit and find errors. Believing it will make you a writer is a mistake. Let me share a story.
A few days ago, a musician friend and I discussed AI and its capabilities. He mentioned tools that can create music in seconds. We created an avant-garde jazz track with a soul touch, and no sooner had it played than he said, “This isn’t new; it’s Tom Jobim.” Cross-referencing confirmed he was right.
An artist cannot be created artificially. If they could, it would just be junk food. Artificiality cannot create something new; it can only perfect what you’ve already made.
Art as an Investment
I understand copyright very well, having studied it extensively during my Model United Nations days. While I find it fascinating, I also recognize it as a fiat mentality. Instead of promoting art, it builds fences and walls to assign monetary value to music—a concept I’ve debated extensively and concluded doesn’t exist. Let’s admit something you won’t want to say aloud: even if no one reads your work, you’ll keep writing anyway. And you’ll keep writing because you never assigned monetary value to your words. Writing makes you happy.
Creating words that turn into texts, then paragraphs, then sections, and eventually chapters—can they come together as a book? For a long time, few people read my work, and yet... I kept writing. Throughout history, art itself has rarely had an economic value attached to it. This is the lie they want you to believe: that without copyright, art will disappear because people will stop paying for it. Under that premise, platforms like Stacker News or Substack are destined to fail. Yet the data tells a completely different story. So, if value-for-value works, what do we have then?
Our enemy is copyright. Art is not meant for rational economic activity. Writing isn’t essential to others, but it is to us. Writing isn’t intrinsically valuable, but it is intrinsically valuable to me. My goal for 2025 is to explore how my three books in Spanish can thrive in the value-for-value economy, so we as artists can continue creating. As a burgeoning economy formed around the hardest and most resilient money the internet has seen to date, let’s use everything to our advantage.
I hope this inspires you, fellow writer, to keep contributing to the value-for-value economy and to continue the debate on copyright.
Footnotes
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To clarify all points properly, the craft of writing in this post is considered an art; hence, the writer is an artist. If you don’t feel like an artist when writing, you may need to check if you’re a candidate for imposter syndrome. ↩
Footnotes