Reading Classics Made Me Repudiate Casual Writing

My Shift from Substack to Classics

The Rise (1900)

I noticed a shift in my reading habits after enrolling in a Master’s in Liberal Arts at St. John’s.

I spent at least twenty hours a week reading foundational Western texts and another ten discussing them. Immersed in intellectual work, I began to find casual writing from platforms like Substack superficial. Many essays, even those by praised writers with large followings or substantial incomes, lacked a clear thesis or presented contradictory arguments that only confused me.

I don’t find "great" works perfect. In seminars, classmates prompted me to wonder if some of Marx's arguments in his 1844 Manuscripts only make sense if you accept his redefinition of key concepts. I also read Melville's Billy Budd and didn’t consider it a masterpiece. Yet even when the "great" works don’t resonate, they reveal a layered way of thinking absent on platforms where writers praise one another without critique.

I still follow a few exceptional writers on Substack, such as

Michael Strong

,

Rob Henderson

, and Scott Alexander, and I sometimes engage with writers on Reddit. But my brain has become impatient with writing full of contradictions, unclear theses, and unrelated details—including mine. My social media time has shrunk to two hours per day, one of which is spent using the stopwatch at the gym. When I post on Twitter or LinkedIn, I use scheduling tools rather than the app. Browsing repels me.

Occasionally, I listen to Substack posts while walking my dog, but only because I haven’t figured out how to pick up poop without letting go of the leash or my Kindle. It’s a quick fix for convenience, not preference.

Exposure to "good" reading has made me reluctant to consume lower-quality writing, much like how cutting sugar and dairy at 16 made me repulse greasy foods. I may indulge in the occasional "fast-food" read but stop when full—and I get full fast.