
I love writing. It’s my passion. It’s paying many of my bills. It’s my way of communicating. I hate talking. I love writing.
But let’s be real, this content creator life is pure luxury.
Writing isn’t useless. Of course not. It’s an important skill. It can do a lot, and influence people (positively or negatively). Writing is a big thing, but no one’s going to die if I miss a newsletter.
But if a nurse calls in sick? Or an EMT? Suddenly things matter.
Perspective
As a writer, I get to work from home, sip coffee, set my own timeline, and whine about the Oxford comma.
Some days, my biggest dilemma is whether to use “too” or “also.”
But that doesn’t feel like the real world, sometimes.
Out there, people are stopping bleeding. Teaching kids how to read. Running into burning buildings. Keeping cities safe. Holding hands in the ER.
That’s critical work.
The Content Creator Bubble
Being a content creator (or, God forbid, an influencer) is like living in a little balloon of privilege.
I say this with love.
It’s a fun bubble! We get to write about our thoughts, our feelings, our niche obsessions, productivity, money… whatever we want.
We toss around phrases like “build in public” and “digital marketing” like they matter. And they do. To us.
But no one’s breathing easier at night because I published a thread on how I batch my content.
Meanwhile, an EMT is out there keeping someone literally breathing.
Writing Is Beautiful, Not Essential
Writing matters. Storytelling matters. Art matters. It connects us. It uplifts us. It entertains us, educates us, comforts us when we’re crumbling.
I wouldn’t trade what I do for much else in the world.
Still, I recognize the distinction between valuable and vital.
Valuable jobs enrich life. Vital jobs enable life.
You can go a week without reading my musings about content strategy. You can’t go a week without sanitation workers, emergency responders, or someone to treat your sudden, terrifying rash.
Paychecks Should Match Reality
And yet, here’s where the real world kicks in. The people doing those vital jobs often earn the least.
At the same time, content creators earn thousands a week for putting a 2 sentence paragraph in their newest newsletter issue.
That’s not fair.
Teachers are buying their own classroom supplies. Nurses are pulling double shifts for less than what tech bros make selling courses that round up your spending. Firefighters risk their lives and then have to crowdfund for gear or healthcare.
Meanwhile, some guy is selling an AI-generated “eBook on Hustle” for $49 and making six figures a month.
That’s not fair. But can we do something about it?
We need to start treating essential jobs like they’re actually essential. That means better pay, more respect, real support. “Thoughts and prayers” don’t give nurses hazard pay.
We need to fund schools and kindergartens, so teachers don’t have to moonlight as Uber drivers.
Vital work isn’t charity.
Because without these people, civilization collapses.
Without writers? X gets slightly less insufferable. That’s it. (I’m obviously oversimplifying.)
So Why Keep Writing?
If I know writing isn’t essential, why do I keep doing it?
Because it’s what I’m good at. Because I love words. And I do think writing and art are important.
But I haven’t only been thinking about this. I am currently studying to become a qualified child daycare teacher, which in Germany, where I live, is not a “glorified” nanny, but an official (and state-regulated) qualification.
Apart from my online work and writing, I want to do something else. Something more social, crucial, and something that’s needed.
But back to the vital jobs.
Let’s Rethink Importance
What if we started measuring status not by how much someone earns, but by how much we need them?
And reflect that in salaries.
Imagine if “public servant” (which in and of itself is already bad wording, in my opinion) didn’t mean underpaid and overworked, but admired, compensated, respected.
Maybe we’d stop producing so many “influencers” and start producing more scientists, paramedics, and teachers who stay in the profession because it doesn’t slowly break their soul.
So if you’re reading this, and you happen to be a nurse, a teacher, a cop, a firefighter, a janitor, a paramedic, a social worker, a daycare provider, or anyone who shows up and does the hard, necessary, thankless work that makes civilization function, I just want to say this:
Thank you!
I respect you.
And I think you should be getting my paycheck. (It’s not much, sorry.)
You’re important!
The Bottom Line
I’m not saying everyone needs to quit their Substack and enlist in public service.
But maybe we content creators can bring some humility to the table. May we don’t call ourselves thought leaders or “influencers”.
P.S. Nurses, teachers, firefighters, and all the rest: if any of you ever start a Substack, I will 100% subscribe. You’ve got better stories than any of us.