Here's How We Protect Substack

A practical 5 step guide for safeguarding the space we love

Aug 09, 2026

So, a couple of days ago, I was gisting with Aer is Rae scrambled, who—to the best of my knowledge—is relatively new to Substack.

And we talked about a lot of things: coffee, building habits, our intrinsic worth as human beings… yada, yada, yada.

Then towards the end of the conversation, she mentioned something.

And that’s typically the consensus when someone joins this app for the first time. For some it’s something along the lines of: “Oh, this place is like Twitter, but for intellectuals”

For others, its “I love how smart and thoughtful all of you are”

And for a very small group it’s “you guys have the most unhinged names sha. Cos why is someone’s username your mommy's sugar daddy 😛?”

The important thing is, when people join Substack, 9 times out of 10, they really love it here, especially if they came just looking for a place to write, read, and connect with like minds.

But the longer you stay on the app, another thought creeps into your head, and it’s usually something along the lines of:

And that’s what I want to address with this article.

Let’s get something out of the way first. This is a completely valid worry to have.

Human nature seems to be wired towards ruining social spaces. Everything from places of worship to kindergarten classrooms and even WhatsApp groups eventually develop factions, opposition parties and someone asking, “Who made him admin?”

Something in our genealogical makeup makes us prone to turning third spaces from places where we build community into platforms where we abuse, maltreat and exploit others.

But then there’s Substack. And to a large extent, this app has avoided that dystopian stereotype.

People come here and find writers they love. They connect with genuinely intelligent and caring people. They find a community that’s committed to sharing ideas, telling stories, and occasionally engaging in professional debates on whether Avocados taste like damp wood or not.

And don’t get me wrong, I know Substack has it faults. I’ve written about them before. So many others have too.

But this is still by far one of—if not the most—caring, genuine, and authentic communities on Obasanjo’s internet today.

I’ve seen things on here that helped me heal from trauma and identify insecurities. I’ve read love stories that made me cry like a baby. And I’ve probably laughed more, reading people’s trials and tribulations with the Nigerian public transportation system, than I have at any of those lacklustre, sexist comedians that MCed your grandfather’s 80th birthday celebration.

The point is, Substack is a beautiful place.

But that doesn’t mean it’ll stay this way forever.

Like I’ve said earlier, human nature has a tendency to find innovative ways to ruin third spaces.

Sometimes, it’s corporate greed. Other times, it’s our insatiable desire for attention. But whatever it is, we keep on coming up with creative means to make interacting with other humans more and more undesirable.

And the truth is, if we aren’t intentional about keeping that kind of behaviour off of this app, we’ll wake up one day and realise that a space that felt designed for authenticity and connection, has turned into… well… Twitter… abi X… whatever that confused man calls it abeg.

So here are 5 simple, but practical ways we can all contribute to gatekeeping this place from weirdos that just want attention, maintaining the culture of intentional interactions, and safeguarding the space that has gifted us so, so much.

1. Treat Substack Like a Community, not a Tool.

New writers often say things like they don’t understand the Substack algorithm. And you know what, fair! I’ve seen people gain a thousand subscribers after posting one note introducing themselves. And I’ve seen others that post two articles a week for three months but don’t manage more than 5 likes on a post.

Me sef, it confuses me.

The truth is I don’t know how this app really works, or how it chooses to feed content. What I do know is this, one of the easiest ways I’ve seen that people grow here is by connecting with other people.

Substack is full of smart, funny, and beautiful human beings. And interacting with those human beings is one of the best parts of being on this app. So, like their notes, restack their articles, quote their paragraphs, and subscribe to their publications if you want to see more of it.

But don’t just do it because you’re looking for a shortcut to getting more views. Do it because you’re actually interested in what people have to say or are intrigued by the workings of people’s minds.

Open yourself up to meeting new people and connect with others to help strengthen the community. Because if you want to gatekeep something special from predators, you’ve got to have a fence first. If not that gate isn’t protecting shit!

So, engage with people. Engage with their work, their ideas, their opinions, and their random rants about everything from dating in Lagos to surviving adulthood.

And people here are nice. More often than not, they’ll do the same. This isn’t Instagram where everyone is trying to maintain steeze and composure. We’re fundamentally unserious people that just pretend to be serious every once in a while.

So, don’t be shy. Show us your own shade of madness. All colours are welcome.

Oh, and stop supporting writers that just come, drop articles and leave. If you want to grow here, commit to helping others do it too. This is a community, not a fan club.

2. Write! Write!! Write!!!

A couple of months ago, when I last wrote about the state of Nigerian Substack, I referenced a problem with content homogeneity. Aura Lord did the same too. And while to a large extent I don’t think we have that problem anymore, I was still want more varieties of content!

Tell me a story about your dead dog, or write a think piece about how MTN, as a company, is just an institutionalised thief.

Thriller, mystery, historical fiction, economics, policy, culture, everything.

Write! Write!! Write!!!

Just keep on writing. Your unique experiences, perspectives and mindset, aren’t just wanted here, they’re needed. And the more you post, the more you give us the opportunity to see the unhinged, raw, full version of yourself that would ordinarily need to be chopped up and aesthetically packaged on a place like Tik Tok.

Write about everything. But most importantly, write about things that are true to who you are. That’s what keeps this place both fresh and different.

3. Support New Writers.

Asides from my very first article on Substack, the first time I had a post with more than 10 likes on this app was more than a full year after my initial post. And I’d been posting pretty consistently since I joined.

So, when new writers get frustrated writing here, I completely understand how it feels.

The truth is that at the end of the day, we really are just human. And no matter how much you love the community and the camaraderie here, when you post notes or articles, you really hope other people will read them and like them too.

But when that doesn’t happen, you’re left with a scenario where people who actually want to be here, and should be here, are consistently disappointed by the reception their articles get.

And here’s my thesis on what will happen if we don’t support new writers who come here because they genuinely love writing.

They’ll leave.

And when they leave, they won’t be replaced by others who love writing just as much as they do.

They’ll be replaced by people who realise that all that thrives on here is polished, attention seeking. So, instead of honest, brilliant writers, we’ll attract professional rage baiters, and validation starved individuals who know how to press all the right buttons but know nothing about actually connecting with their audience.

And slowly, we lose the very thing that makes Substack special.

Real people.

So, when you see an article with two likes from an unfamiliar name. Open it, read it, like it, restack it, and subscribe if you want to see more of them. Encourage them to stay, to grow, and to become a part of the community.

I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and see that all the people that actually want to write have left because they’re not getting interactions. And then out of nowhere, I hear that Peller has joined Substack and he has 10k subscribers.

I’ll just leave this place for you people.

4. Pretend That You Have Home Training.

Yes, I know that in your family when people disagree about something, instead of them to cordially explain why they have differing views, they’ll start shouting about how one child was picked from the dustbin, and how the other one looks like what would happen if a chicken and a goat had a baby.

Don’t worry, I’m aware of how things work in your household.

But please for the sake of this space ehh, just pretend that your parents attempted to teach you manners.

If someone says something you don’t agree with, tell them why you don’t agree with it, state your points clearly and move on. Don’t come and be disgracing your parents outside.

When I joined Substack, that was one of my favourite things about this place. People with alternating views found a way to coexist and converse without behaving like they were agberos in Ikorodu.

Let’s keep it that way. Inugo?

5. Stop Platforming Rage/Clickbait

Let’s play “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?” for a minute shall we?

Question: Someone makes a despicable comment about women’s bodies, or reproductive autonomy, or pedophilia, or men’s mental health, or the queer community, or literally anything. Do you:

A: Restack the post, and address the comment
B: Enter the person’s comment section and tell them what a fool she/he is
C: Ignore and move on

More often than not, we choose to do A or B. But I’m going to suggest—and hear me out—that we do a lot more of C instead.

Lots of the time, when people say such horrible things, they’re really just looking for attention. And when you spend time arguing with them, or responding to them, you simply validate their emotions in the moment.

You’d think you’ve spent time successfully debunking their views, while you’ve just helped them win a game you didn’t even know you were playing.

Next time you see someone spew something racist, or homophobic, or sexist on here, just pretend you didn’t see it.

If you must address it, use a separate note or article, and don’t reference the original post or its author, so you don’t direct traffic back to them. By the time they realise that their silly antics don’t work here, they’ll tuck their crayon-sized tail between their legs, go running back to Daddy Elon and leave us alone.

But stop stroking their egos. It’s not worth it.

Substack is a beautiful place, with lots of beautiful people.

But if we want to keep it that way, we’re going to need to be intentional about the kind of people we platform, the kind of content we celebrate, and the kind of connections we foster.

There’s a reason why in spite of the fact that almost every other social media app feels overtly performative or toxic or unsafe, big tech takes very minimal steps towards changing that.

It’s because no matter how much we complain or whine or cry, the simple truth is that the performative, toxic, unsafe versions of social media are what keep their bottom lines looking healthy.

LinkedIn has turned into the global capital of AI slop and corporate jargon
Snapchat is just another fancy way to gaslight ourselves into believing that we’re actually involved in our friends’ lives
And Whatsapp… well… my Whatsapp staus is now full of ads from Yahoo Boys, offering masterclasses on gift card conversion and defrauding old white women of their 401(k)s.

The truth is it was only a matter of time.

And I don’t know anybody at Substack HQ well enough to tell you that it’s not just a matter of time with this app too. In spite of this, we still have a responsibility to play our own part; to do all we can to safeguard this tiny corner of the internet that we’ve carved out as a safe space for connection, exchange, and storytelling.

So when that your friend that you know only cares about views, and likes, and becoming the next Purple Speedy, asks you “ehen, that Substack app sef. What do you guys do there?” please respond by saying that we come here to offer sacrifices to marine spirits.

And if that doesn’t chase her away, tell her it’s an app where people share research papers on 16th century civilisation and culture. One of the two should work.

Whatever you do be intentional about preserving the culture, be intentional about protecting the people, and be intentional about gatekeeping this app from individuals who—without the help of AI—will only be able to write with a proficiency similar to Davido when asked to perform a freestyle.