Mel, thank you for sharing this behind-the-scenes look. I had no idea about these kinds of details. However, this is kind of what I suspected was the case. It breaks my heart and angers me all at once. Imagine being a painter and being told to develop your craft and sell your paintings you had to join a group of thousands and post painting content and memes of paintings…it’s bizarre. But this is what is being “sold” to many and I think you are exactly right that it is a pyramid scheme.
I think there a number of reasons for that emptiness and lack of significance many who do unseen work (like lots of women) but one reason is that we tell them the way to be significant is to be a celebrity or influence. What a lie. (Also, it’s not all that great, haha!).
And another thing (I have so much to say!): there’s a saying somewhere about the church—that what brings them there is what will keep them, meaning the bait and switch doesn’t work. The groups you describe remind me of that truism: if you build a vast audience of meme-likers, then you have a large audience of meme-likers… (I like memes, don’t get me wrong, haha!)
Anyway, I thank you again for sharing this experience. It’s very instructive and insightful. I’m sorry you learned some hard things along the way. But we all do, don’t we?
Additionally the Mommy blog would not pay us for our work until we got a certain amount of “shares” on social media (is this the norm?). Imagine how that model compels writers to change their style to be more sensational. The more heart wrenching or confrontational, the better.
The mommy blog then offered the writers classes they had to pay for to learn how to write better, boost social media presence, etc. They made money off their own devoted writers.
I eventually left the group, thank God, but once I did, many of the writers who supported and shared my content, stopped. It was a facade. Yes, hard but necessary lessons.
Karen, I posted this article you wrote for TGC on my "platform" about a week ago. It is truly excellent, and it stings. I'm a believer that growth comes from pain, and this particular topic is painful for me because the woman you are talking about is me.
I want to offer a behind-the-scenes perspective on platform building. In 2017, I was one of those "restless housewives" who needed something to do. Out of my passion and desire to be a Christian speaker and out of the need to get back in the Word, I began a Facebook platform devoted to short devotional videos. I then discovered I could boost my followers by writing for an online publication for mommy writers. So I did. When my article was selected, I was invited to join a private group on Facebook of "writers" tailored to mommy bloggers. When I joined, I discovered 1,000 other women just like me.
We were all coached to "build" a platform and push content. We were told that to grow our platforms, we should post at least three forms of content each day, most of which we make ourselves. If we had big platforms, when we shared content from the online publication, their platform would grow, and it has. The mommy blog platform I wrote for now has over 1 million followers and is a money-maker. As I write this, it feels like a pyramid scheme. We were told that if we wanted to get a book deal (most women did, but this was not my goal) or speaking engagements, our platform had to be significant for a publisher to sniff at us. This is when the frenzy for many of us began.
I began creating Christian memes and pushing content. Eventually, I noticed what gets "likes" and "shares." So, I began to tailor my posts to fit the audience, whether the topic was a conviction of mine or not. There was a feeling of one-upmanship—which of us would elicit the best emotional response and get the most "shares"? Moreover, 1,000 women were doing the same thing, so the market was saturated. Much of the content became a watered-down version of Christianity, with few theological truths and much "self-help." As you can imagine, it emptied the soul tank, and though I was doing a lot of "creating," my creativity was strangled.
You are right when you say that our "platforms" are the body of work we have already done, yet so many women are being told and coached to do the exact opposite. Some women have posted on private writers' pages that their publisher requires them to have a significant online presence. They have to prove they have the support of other people with large platforms to guarantee their book will be shared across social media. One woman had to calculate her reach for her publisher. She had to project how many people she could reach with her book if all of us who committed to promoting it would do so. While I see the reasoning behind making a writer do all that work, it feels wrong. From this, a group of women who desired to publish a book committed to sharing each other's writing to build their platforms strong enough to be enticing to a publisher. That created people not sharing each other's work out of conviction or because it is quality, but out of necessity. It feels icky.
We were told, "If you build it, they will come," and the money will be there, too. However, I have some online friends with followers in the 100,000s who barely make a dime. They live on the hope and prayer that their book deal will come through. As for me, God convicted my heart, and I changed what I do on my platform. I get only a few monthly followers and LOVE what I'm doing now. It's a blessing, not a curse.
I have just had to give up one of those "everyday" platforms, that of being church musician, because I could not endorse what was beginning to be said from the pulpit. It feels like a much greater loss than giving up writing on a blog - something I have also experienced. I was able to see and hear the effects of my music in real time, from people present in the same room as I was.
To me, remembering a time before the internet was available for communication, writing on online platforms such as this is a substitute for letter writing to a large number of pen-pals. C. S. Lewis, among many other authors, communicated extensively with his readers via letters - he even ended up marrying one of them. Now we have comment sections and messaging services for readers to talk to authors.
I have often thought about why I find authors such as G. K. Chesterton and C. S. Lewis more effective in writing about aspects of Christianity than the latest celebrity pastor's book. I have come to the conclusion that it is because Chesterton and Lewis were lay Christians whose professions required writing, so they were working out their faith in their professions. A pastor's primary calling is to feed the flock that sits in front of them every Sunday*. The Western church has seen many recent examples of what happens when a pastor tries to build a public platform at the cost of serving the local congregation.
*Not saying a pastor should not write, but such writing will only be beneficial if the pastor is faithful in his primary calling of serving his original congregation. The modern pastor who tries to imitate the lasting success of a Chrysostom or Bunyan or Spurgeon should remember first that these pastors weren't seeking fame and were faithful to their local church, sometimes at great personal cost (Chrysostom - repeated exile, Bunyan - repeated imprisonment), and second, they are dead and so are no longer in danger of being led astray by their continued fame.
Holly, first, I am so sorry for what you’ve had to give up and at such a cost. I get it. It’s hard and painful. I pray the Lord gives you new work, new ways to serve and play and make.
Second, I think your insights about the genuine work of writers like GKC and CSL is insightful. They were living their faith as writers (and other things) just as many others live out their faith as musicians, athletes, fathers, teachers, farmers, etc.
So much that has gone wrong in the church today is owing to the cult of celebrity as Katelyn Beaty has written about.
I didn't see this when it was first published but so thankful you've put it on here Karen. Really wise counsel. I think it's very evident among pastors, this desire for some kind of platform. It wasn't the case when I began in ministry 30 years ago but I'm sure the same ambitions infected our hearts even if they were harder to indulge. I love your way of framing it, "Our real platform is the life we are living and the work and ministry we are already doing." Amen. How much I need to always remember that.
My Substack began as a twice-weekly email to our church during lockdown which I later moved onto here because it's easier to manage (at least I tell myself that was the reason...). I try hard to keep those I serve in the local church firmly in mind as I write each week, reminding myself that playing it to gain readers is a temptation worth battling against. Jeremiah's words to Baruch so often come to mind, "Should you then seek great things for yourself? Do not seek them." Thank you for underlining that in such a helpful way.
Richard, your comment made a lightbulb come on! I’m going to write about this in one of my future posts in this series, but I think what many fail to distinguish (including me, really) is the difference between PLATFORM and AUDIENCE. Growing the latter without growing the former is the problem, or part of it. Ok—saving this for further development!
This is really insightful and helpful as we're in start up mode again. I forwarded it on to my wife, Jana; but she's not up yet to respond. I see a detailed response below so I think I'll share a little more of our story. Jana is a missionary kid whose life interacted with the broad sweeps of African history in humble ways. Her mom was pregnant with her in Nigeria when the Biafra War broke out, then born in Cameroon after evacuation, then relocated to Kenya. Jana remembers Kenyata's Harambee, Ugandan refugees from Amin years, and Nyere's teacher leadership. We met in seminary and then spent 19 years in Uganda and Rwanda. During our later years in Uganda and our full years in Rwanda we found ourselves in a unique ministry niche of working with "thought leaders", the rising middle class, and diaspora people. In that process we in a certain became quite well known. We started a leading church in Kigali and an international school. I taught ethics at a local university. Together we did a popular radio show in Uganda. I wrote a well read column in Rwanda. We got burned by our conservative denomination and thought we'd just eventually find our way to a more middle ground evangelicalism. We moved back to the USA 12 years ago and found ourselves in a place of absolute irrelevance. We started in Chicago. It was disorientating and humbling. I decided not to pursue writing in African media houses and try to put down American roots. It was almost impossible to find any opportunities in American evangelicalism. The bright spot was we found lots of African diaspora and became thoroughly involved in their community organizations, churches, and soccer teams. Our African network blossomed but was really in the shadows. 5 years ago we had our limits of trying to make it in Chicago evangelicals. We moved to North Dakota to follow a diaspora movement and also just get to my childhood dreams. We worked a variety of jobs to pay bills. I was a hospice chaplain for 2 years. We're now trying to start our own nonprofit. We're getting busy again and finding relevancy like we once had 12 years ago. A big part of the relevancy is the Trump years made a pro black skinned immigrant messenger someone to talk about and to. Another is the Anglo rural churches have been ignored by the evangelical industries. Us being available and helpful. Our facebook stays busy. Our twitter and threads occassionally get busy, but its usually when an African media leader hops into a conversation with us and rarely with anything American related. After we get some more nonprofit infrastructure in place we'll probably start a substack and I'll see if I can get some op-eds published in North Dakota local papers. Your post is really helpful as we conceptualize that maybe God gave us some years to re orient to America, get our kids grown, and rest; but now may be stepping back into a more public ministry. Thanks for making us smarter
Dave, thanks for sharing this here. It makes so much sense. So much of platform is based on connections and networks (for good and ill). And it’s so easy to lose sight of how narrow our contexts can be. American evangelicals especially lose sight of the larger global context. Thank you for reminding us that there is a whole world out there. I hope you find a new place in it in your new context.
P.S. I remember reading your comment when you first posted and thought I replied! It must be one of those times I *think* I do something—but it stays in my head! 😅
Mel, thank you for sharing this behind-the-scenes look. I had no idea about these kinds of details. However, this is kind of what I suspected was the case. It breaks my heart and angers me all at once. Imagine being a painter and being told to develop your craft and sell your paintings you had to join a group of thousands and post painting content and memes of paintings…it’s bizarre. But this is what is being “sold” to many and I think you are exactly right that it is a pyramid scheme.
I think there a number of reasons for that emptiness and lack of significance many who do unseen work (like lots of women) but one reason is that we tell them the way to be significant is to be a celebrity or influence. What a lie. (Also, it’s not all that great, haha!).
And another thing (I have so much to say!): there’s a saying somewhere about the church—that what brings them there is what will keep them, meaning the bait and switch doesn’t work. The groups you describe remind me of that truism: if you build a vast audience of meme-likers, then you have a large audience of meme-likers… (I like memes, don’t get me wrong, haha!)
Anyway, I thank you again for sharing this experience. It’s very instructive and insightful. I’m sorry you learned some hard things along the way. But we all do, don’t we?
Additionally the Mommy blog would not pay us for our work until we got a certain amount of “shares” on social media (is this the norm?). Imagine how that model compels writers to change their style to be more sensational. The more heart wrenching or confrontational, the better.
The mommy blog then offered the writers classes they had to pay for to learn how to write better, boost social media presence, etc. They made money off their own devoted writers.
I eventually left the group, thank God, but once I did, many of the writers who supported and shared my content, stopped. It was a facade. Yes, hard but necessary lessons.
Definitely a pyramid scheme or MLM scheme or what have you … 😕
Karen, I posted this article you wrote for TGC on my "platform" about a week ago. It is truly excellent, and it stings. I'm a believer that growth comes from pain, and this particular topic is painful for me because the woman you are talking about is me.
I want to offer a behind-the-scenes perspective on platform building. In 2017, I was one of those "restless housewives" who needed something to do. Out of my passion and desire to be a Christian speaker and out of the need to get back in the Word, I began a Facebook platform devoted to short devotional videos. I then discovered I could boost my followers by writing for an online publication for mommy writers. So I did. When my article was selected, I was invited to join a private group on Facebook of "writers" tailored to mommy bloggers. When I joined, I discovered 1,000 other women just like me.
We were all coached to "build" a platform and push content. We were told that to grow our platforms, we should post at least three forms of content each day, most of which we make ourselves. If we had big platforms, when we shared content from the online publication, their platform would grow, and it has. The mommy blog platform I wrote for now has over 1 million followers and is a money-maker. As I write this, it feels like a pyramid scheme. We were told that if we wanted to get a book deal (most women did, but this was not my goal) or speaking engagements, our platform had to be significant for a publisher to sniff at us. This is when the frenzy for many of us began.
I began creating Christian memes and pushing content. Eventually, I noticed what gets "likes" and "shares." So, I began to tailor my posts to fit the audience, whether the topic was a conviction of mine or not. There was a feeling of one-upmanship—which of us would elicit the best emotional response and get the most "shares"? Moreover, 1,000 women were doing the same thing, so the market was saturated. Much of the content became a watered-down version of Christianity, with few theological truths and much "self-help." As you can imagine, it emptied the soul tank, and though I was doing a lot of "creating," my creativity was strangled.
You are right when you say that our "platforms" are the body of work we have already done, yet so many women are being told and coached to do the exact opposite. Some women have posted on private writers' pages that their publisher requires them to have a significant online presence. They have to prove they have the support of other people with large platforms to guarantee their book will be shared across social media. One woman had to calculate her reach for her publisher. She had to project how many people she could reach with her book if all of us who committed to promoting it would do so. While I see the reasoning behind making a writer do all that work, it feels wrong. From this, a group of women who desired to publish a book committed to sharing each other's writing to build their platforms strong enough to be enticing to a publisher. That created people not sharing each other's work out of conviction or because it is quality, but out of necessity. It feels icky.
We were told, "If you build it, they will come," and the money will be there, too. However, I have some online friends with followers in the 100,000s who barely make a dime. They live on the hope and prayer that their book deal will come through. As for me, God convicted my heart, and I changed what I do on my platform. I get only a few monthly followers and LOVE what I'm doing now. It's a blessing, not a curse.
I have just had to give up one of those "everyday" platforms, that of being church musician, because I could not endorse what was beginning to be said from the pulpit. It feels like a much greater loss than giving up writing on a blog - something I have also experienced. I was able to see and hear the effects of my music in real time, from people present in the same room as I was.
To me, remembering a time before the internet was available for communication, writing on online platforms such as this is a substitute for letter writing to a large number of pen-pals. C. S. Lewis, among many other authors, communicated extensively with his readers via letters - he even ended up marrying one of them. Now we have comment sections and messaging services for readers to talk to authors.
I have often thought about why I find authors such as G. K. Chesterton and C. S. Lewis more effective in writing about aspects of Christianity than the latest celebrity pastor's book. I have come to the conclusion that it is because Chesterton and Lewis were lay Christians whose professions required writing, so they were working out their faith in their professions. A pastor's primary calling is to feed the flock that sits in front of them every Sunday*. The Western church has seen many recent examples of what happens when a pastor tries to build a public platform at the cost of serving the local congregation.
*Not saying a pastor should not write, but such writing will only be beneficial if the pastor is faithful in his primary calling of serving his original congregation. The modern pastor who tries to imitate the lasting success of a Chrysostom or Bunyan or Spurgeon should remember first that these pastors weren't seeking fame and were faithful to their local church, sometimes at great personal cost (Chrysostom - repeated exile, Bunyan - repeated imprisonment), and second, they are dead and so are no longer in danger of being led astray by their continued fame.
Holly, first, I am so sorry for what you’ve had to give up and at such a cost. I get it. It’s hard and painful. I pray the Lord gives you new work, new ways to serve and play and make.
Second, I think your insights about the genuine work of writers like GKC and CSL is insightful. They were living their faith as writers (and other things) just as many others live out their faith as musicians, athletes, fathers, teachers, farmers, etc.
So much that has gone wrong in the church today is owing to the cult of celebrity as Katelyn Beaty has written about.
I didn't see this when it was first published but so thankful you've put it on here Karen. Really wise counsel. I think it's very evident among pastors, this desire for some kind of platform. It wasn't the case when I began in ministry 30 years ago but I'm sure the same ambitions infected our hearts even if they were harder to indulge. I love your way of framing it, "Our real platform is the life we are living and the work and ministry we are already doing." Amen. How much I need to always remember that.
My Substack began as a twice-weekly email to our church during lockdown which I later moved onto here because it's easier to manage (at least I tell myself that was the reason...). I try hard to keep those I serve in the local church firmly in mind as I write each week, reminding myself that playing it to gain readers is a temptation worth battling against. Jeremiah's words to Baruch so often come to mind, "Should you then seek great things for yourself? Do not seek them." Thank you for underlining that in such a helpful way.
Richard, your comment made a lightbulb come on! I’m going to write about this in one of my future posts in this series, but I think what many fail to distinguish (including me, really) is the difference between PLATFORM and AUDIENCE. Growing the latter without growing the former is the problem, or part of it. Ok—saving this for further development!
Look forward to reading your thoughts on that, Karen.
This is really insightful and helpful as we're in start up mode again. I forwarded it on to my wife, Jana; but she's not up yet to respond. I see a detailed response below so I think I'll share a little more of our story. Jana is a missionary kid whose life interacted with the broad sweeps of African history in humble ways. Her mom was pregnant with her in Nigeria when the Biafra War broke out, then born in Cameroon after evacuation, then relocated to Kenya. Jana remembers Kenyata's Harambee, Ugandan refugees from Amin years, and Nyere's teacher leadership. We met in seminary and then spent 19 years in Uganda and Rwanda. During our later years in Uganda and our full years in Rwanda we found ourselves in a unique ministry niche of working with "thought leaders", the rising middle class, and diaspora people. In that process we in a certain became quite well known. We started a leading church in Kigali and an international school. I taught ethics at a local university. Together we did a popular radio show in Uganda. I wrote a well read column in Rwanda. We got burned by our conservative denomination and thought we'd just eventually find our way to a more middle ground evangelicalism. We moved back to the USA 12 years ago and found ourselves in a place of absolute irrelevance. We started in Chicago. It was disorientating and humbling. I decided not to pursue writing in African media houses and try to put down American roots. It was almost impossible to find any opportunities in American evangelicalism. The bright spot was we found lots of African diaspora and became thoroughly involved in their community organizations, churches, and soccer teams. Our African network blossomed but was really in the shadows. 5 years ago we had our limits of trying to make it in Chicago evangelicals. We moved to North Dakota to follow a diaspora movement and also just get to my childhood dreams. We worked a variety of jobs to pay bills. I was a hospice chaplain for 2 years. We're now trying to start our own nonprofit. We're getting busy again and finding relevancy like we once had 12 years ago. A big part of the relevancy is the Trump years made a pro black skinned immigrant messenger someone to talk about and to. Another is the Anglo rural churches have been ignored by the evangelical industries. Us being available and helpful. Our facebook stays busy. Our twitter and threads occassionally get busy, but its usually when an African media leader hops into a conversation with us and rarely with anything American related. After we get some more nonprofit infrastructure in place we'll probably start a substack and I'll see if I can get some op-eds published in North Dakota local papers. Your post is really helpful as we conceptualize that maybe God gave us some years to re orient to America, get our kids grown, and rest; but now may be stepping back into a more public ministry. Thanks for making us smarter
Dave, thanks for sharing this here. It makes so much sense. So much of platform is based on connections and networks (for good and ill). And it’s so easy to lose sight of how narrow our contexts can be. American evangelicals especially lose sight of the larger global context. Thank you for reminding us that there is a whole world out there. I hope you find a new place in it in your new context.
P.S. I remember reading your comment when you first posted and thought I replied! It must be one of those times I *think* I do something—but it stays in my head! 😅
I do similar things
😅
Beautiful wisdom. Your concept of a platform makes me thing of ancient philosophy and Jesus: it’s a way of life.
🙏🙏🙏
Thank you Karen. Your article makes me lift my heart and motives up to God for holy inspection.
I’ll meditate on your words, “In the end, that’s what we’re all called to do with our platforms: serve others and, in so doing, glorify God.”
🙏