Welcome once again to Story Cauldron, where I publish my original fiction as well as occasional articles about storytelling in the real world and related topics. Today, I want to address something very topical but also rather uncomfortable. I hope you don’t click away.

A couple of weeks ago, I shared an open letter to the Substack founders on the subject of Nazis on Substack that followed an article in The Atlantic. I published it both here and on Fictionistas, the community for fiction writers that I co-organize with Geoffrey Goldenof the awesome Substack Adventure Snack. The goal of the letter was to push Substack’s leadership into explaining why they allow Nazis, white supremacists, and other far-right figures to not only publish on this platform but make money on it (and Substack also gets a cut). It wasn’t an ultimatum, just a pressure campaign to get an answer.

Racism and hate speech are stochastic terrorism (incitement to violence) even if they don’t overtly mention violence, and most people agree it’s in violation of Substack’s terms of service:

"Substack cannot be used to publish content or fund initiatives that incite violence based on protected classes. Offending behavior includes credible threats of physical harm to people based on their race, ethnicity, national origin, religion, sex, gender identity, sexual orientation, age, disability or medical condition."

On both Fictionistas and Story Cauldron, after publishing the letter, a handful of people unsubscribed (a situation that has already resolved itself as new subscribers have already replaced those who left), and there was a flurry of conversations over on Substack’s chat platform Notes, as well as in the comments on Fictionistas.

Some of the main issues people had with the letter—and my sharing it—can be summed up as follows:

• Fiction writers/readers don’t want to be ‘political’ or have politics shoved in their faces;

• People won’t encounter Nazis on Substack if they don’t go looking for them; and

• Wanting Nazis off Substack is infringing on free speech.

Why did I share the letter?

I had several reasons why I jumped at the opportunity to sign on to the Substackers Against Nazis letter.

As I commented on Fictionistas,

There are political/religious/philosophical beliefs I disagree with. I have no problems with people having the right to express those beliefs, generally speaking, in public forums such as this.

I draw the line at hate speech and white supremacy, which is stochastic terrorism. In this case, I take issue with any Substack that riles up its readers against Jews, gay people, trans people, immigrants or people of color - or any other group - and which can and does lead directly to people committing acts of violence against those groups. You don't have to be the one to call for violence directly if you encourage people to hate another group of people. This is a known and effective technique and it cannot be swept away by saying, "but the author didn't actually call for violence - they only expressed their beliefs that another group was inferior." That is why many people are calling it what it is - Nazism and fascism.

And this letter and the calls today aren't for censorship but demanding that Substack's leadership explain why they have recruited some of these people to the platform, why they invite them to be on the podcast, and why they have no issues with generating revenue on hate speech.

But it goes beyond all of this.

Why fiction writers shouldn’t hide from the issue

It’s easy for some people to put their heads in the sand and say, “I’m apolitical,” or that they don’t want their work to be associated with controversy. I mean, wouldn’t it be nice if we could just pretend for a moment that Nazis died out in 1940s Germany? Wouldn’t it be nice?

But they didn’t, and pretending otherwise is disingenuous at best. Arguing that Nazis should have a right to spread their hate speech (under the guise of “free speech”) is absurd because Nazis don’t believe in free speech. They have no problem invading and infecting every form of media to spread their propaganda, lies, and hatred—and silencing their opposition. That’s what Nazis do.

And lots of fiction authors much bigger than me are standing up against Nazis on Substack. Case in point: Margaret Atwood, who knows a little about fascism. As she wrote on her Substack,

No, Substack: You can’t have both the dystopian nightmare and “Flopsy Bunny’s Very Busy Day.” You can’t have both the terms of service you have spelled out and a bunch of individial publishers who violate those terms of service. One or the other has got to go, and hiding under the sofa and pretending it isn’t happening will not make your dilemma go away. Nor will some laudable rhetoric about free speech – not when you yourselves have clearly stated that not everything is allowable, including threats of “violence” and “physical harm” to “protected classes.”

And if that’s not enough, it’s also a question of what Substack could become if the Nazi problem continues unabated. As S Peter Davis points out in his article about moderation on social media platforms, if fascist rhetoric is allowed to continue on Substack unabated, there may be a point when that’s all that’s left.

Fighting Nazis is personal

In addition to the millions of people who opposed the Nazis in WWII or died under their regime, my grandfathers both fought the Nazis (and carried the weight of their efforts for the rest of their lives), and members of my extended family in Croatia were some of the Nazis’ victims.

We beat them once. I don’t want my generation to have to fight these battles—or fall victim to this ideology—again.

As an outspoken leftist who identifies with the LGBTQ+ community and who has many friends who are people of color, immigrants, and/or non-binary/trans—and as a student of history who has studied how the Nazis came to power the first time around—I will stand up against today’s fascists and Nazis at every opportunity.

But even if I weren’t directly impacted and had no family history of fighting Nazis, this would still be personal. Nazis believe that some people, simply due to their location and position of birth, skin color, religion, or sexual or gender identity, do not deserve equal rights. Some say those people don’t deserve to live. And those sentiments are alive and well and being shared on Substack every day.

The outcome of the letter

This is a Substack about storytelling, after all, and it wouldn’t be a good story without the ending.

The good news is that, after years of being asked their position on this topic, the Substack leadership finally responded to the open letter shared by more than 200 Substacks (including Atwood) and covered by major news media. So despite the people asking, “What are you hoping to achieve?” the public pressure campaign worked.

The bad news is that while the leadership responded, it was a wishy-washy statement (on Notes, rather than an actual post on Substack, so it will be harder to find in the future). They claim they don’t like Nazis, but Substack won’t ban their content based on free speech principles (although, interestingly, other content, including porn, is banned, so they do censor some things). The tone-deaf response doesn’t address the root of the problem or why hundreds of people are upset, leading some Substack writers to announce they’re leaving Substack.

As the New York Times wrote,

While Substack says it does not allow users to call for violence, even that distinction can be murky, Professor [Kurt] Braddock said, because racists and extremists can walk up to the line without overtly doing that. But their rhetoric can still inspire others to violence, he said.

Allowing Nazi rhetoric on a platform also normalizes it, he said.

“The more they use the kind of rhetoric that dehumanizes or demonizes a certain population,” Professor Braddock said, “the more it becomes OK for the general population to follow.”

So what’s my plan?

I’m not happy about Substack’s response at all. However, I’ve enjoyed being on the platform over the past couple of years and have made a number of friends here. I have also greatly expanded the audience and reach of my writing. Story Cauldron is an effective place to share my writing; Fictionistas has grown into a delightful and vibrant community; and Unseen St. Louis has opened so many doors and allowed me to share local history with a sizable audience.

So, for now, I plan to join others, such asAnne Helen Petersen, who intend to remain on Substack and be thorns in the leadership’s side. If enough of us become thorns, perhaps together, we can grow into an impenetrable bramble, and change will become inevitable.

Think of it a little like the French Resistance but on Substack. Let’s fight like hell to keep the Nazis from destroying this little patch of the Internet.

Thanks for reading. I hope to return very soon with more fiction and updates on my novels, so stay tuned!