The short of it... 

This newsletter looks different because it is different. I've recently switched from MailChimp to Beehiiv. You can read more about that choice at the bottom of this piece. Today, you will find a long-form essay about a subject that I've been reflecting on a lot lately: Polarization. In short, while polarization rewards us with popularity, I'd argue that it costs us humanity. Let me explain why. 

The long of it... 

I have an old friend from high school who is a very proud and outspoken carnivore. He's managed to build a sizeable audience on Twitter by sharing some fascinating content around health and fitness... and actively talking shit about vegans and vegetarians.

I imagine you have a friend like this, too. Except their passion might not be consuming large quantities of meat but Scientology, Ayahuasca, The NRA, ice baths or cryptocurrencies.

For better or for worse, he has the makings of a real Twitter Titan. He's smart. He's well-read. He's extremist. He's polarizing. He's got his finger on the pulse of meme culture. And, he's not afraid to make a few enemies as long as his empire of meat lovers is growing at a breakneck pace. 

Watching from the outskirts of Twitter, I find myself wrestling with two very contrasting emotions...

There's a part of me that's genuinely proud of my old pal for cracking Twitter's algorithm and compiling a meaningful audience that seems to be genuinely interested in reading his thoughts on everything ranging from why we should reach for butter over olive oil to the life-saving impact of regenerative farming. He's damn passionate. And, well, as a passionate person myself, I love passionate people. 

But, there's also a part of me that can't help but think him to be a pompous dick as I watch wide-eyed from the bleachers as he dukes it out with other keyboard warriors who seem to be just as passionate and extremist in their own views. 

Despite this latter feeling, I'm not upset with my friend nor can I at all blame my friend because, in so many ways, I was my friend not all that long ago. 

Up until fairly recently, I thought that for me to be "right" someone else had to be "wrong" and that for me to "win" someone else had to "lose" and so I took to platforms like Twitter, LinkedIn and Instagram in a desperate hunt for a witch to burn... and witches I found, nearly everywhere I looked. 

As my following grew –– and with it my sadness –– I soon realized that attempting to achieve popularity through polarization is a recipe for a lifetime of unhappiness because you're unconsciously tethering your own success to other people's demise. 

You see, if you choose to make your living as a witch hunter, you will find a constant supply of witches and monsters to hunt because for you to "stay in business", witches and monsters can never be in short supply. 

My friend, myself and so many others who take to the Internet each day overwhelmed with holier-than-thou attitudes and inexplicable levels of anger we're ready to unleash, in a moment's notice, on anyone who speaks out against us, are simply products of a society that rewards "polarization" with popularity; a society that encourages bludgeoning others to make room for our own ideas to be seen, heard and considered. 

And so all of us have unknowingly adopted a toxic, dehumanizing formula that we've seen "work" for countless others... 

It's 1962 again, we're in the midst of the Salem Witch Trials and all of us are suffering as we find ourselves being both the witch hunters and the witches during this new era of polarization. 

Sooner or later we must ask ourselves the following question... 

If popularity is what we gain from polarization, what does it cost us?

Humanity, perhaps. 

But, humanity and moral questioning aside, assuming that most of the folks reading this newsletter make their living creating something –– be it words, code, design, products, marketing, businesses, etc –– let's consider what constant criticism of others costs us creatively.

After I made the decision to stop calling people out publicly (despite whether or not I felt they deserved it) and step away from the polarization-for-popularity trade-off, I experienced one of the most creative stints I've enjoyed in some time. 

At first, biting my tongue took a great deal of restraint. 

I’d scroll through Twitter, Instagram and Linkedin and I’d inevitably happen upon a snake oil salesman or a political extremist or an influencer pushing an agenda, and I’d have to painstakingly hold myself back from slapping them with a smartass comment.

But, as I kept scrolling without giving into that cruel primal side of myself, I found that I suddenly stopped finding things to be so critical about.

This made room for creativity.

I read more. I felt inspired, more. I found that I always had something to say –– sometimes too much to say –– when I’d sit down to the page.

Soon, The Machina Project was born, a daily newsletter that explores the intersection between Art and Artificial Intelligence, along with the exciting seeds of other new projects, ideas and explorations that I will announce soon. 

All that to say, while this could be my own ignorance, I don’t know any individual who has thrived as both a creative and a critic; at least not at the same time.

Not unlike so many vocations, I think we as individuals have to pick one.

The critic possesses a critic’s eye that is always looking for something that’s wrong, something that could use improving.

While the world needs critics because critics hold the world accountable to a specific standard, creatives must operate with a child-like open-mindedness free of criticism: where anything is possible and the only metric of “good” or “bad” is whether or not they’ve shown up and done the work.

And so choosing not to cash in on polarization doesn't just make us better humans, it makes us better creatives too. 

By Cole Schafer. 

P.S. If you're new to Sticky Notes, you can subscribe here. 

This email looks different. Why? 

I officially ended my MailChimp subscription yesterday, which has left me feeling like I'm twenty-one again, fresh out of a toxic relationship, ready to lasso the world and catapult myself to the moon (and/or hit the gym hard for a few weeks so I can look good in a cut-off on the weekends, getting piss drunk at local bars in search of new romance that will inevitably end in more heartbreak).

All that to say, I've recently switched to (and fallen head over heels with) a new newsletter software called Beehiiv, which is blowing my damn socks off. I love them so much I've become an affiliate. If you have a newsletter –– or have ever thought about starting a newsletter –– I highly recommend you check it out.

As I continue to play on this new platform, I will also be exploring new and exciting ways to structure Sticky Notes. So, bear with me.