How (and why) I post every day

Friends,

Several of you have asked me how I manage to produce this Substack every day, seven days a week (and sometimes two times a day). Is there just one of you? you ask. Do you get any sleep? Do you have a life?

There’s just one of me (except on Saturdays, when Heather Lofthouse joins me for the Coffee Klatch). I do sleep (although as I get older, it’s harder to get a full night in). And I do have a life.

I post seven days a week because we’re at a dangerous inflection point in the history of America and the world, and I want to do what I can to get you the facts, arguments, and analyses you need to take an active role.

That “active” role can be no more than talking to your friends and fortifying them — so that when they talk to their friends, they also have the facts, arguments, and analyses they need. And so on.

It’s also a matter of framing — giving the news a larger context and meaning.

Showing, for example, how Ronna McDaniel exemplifies the moral bankruptcy of Trumpism and why the media can’t maintain any semblance of integrity if it hires election deniers.

Or how the fight over abortion is really a fight to preserve the most intimate forms of freedom — as are the fights over transgender rights, equal marriage rights, and rights against domestic abuse. And how these fights connect to the larger fight against white Christian nationalism and Trump.

Or how Trump’s seemingly random mutterings about what he’ll do if reelected fit into a clear plan to replace American democracy with a fascist state.

In other words, I write and post every day because the stakes are so high.

But I also break up the heavy stuff with occasional lighter pieces (such as my recent little essay on neckties) and my Sunday caption contest — on the theory that a spoonful of sugar helps even the bitterest medicine go down.

But mostly, I post every day because I believe in you. I believe in your values. In your thoughtfulness. In your determination to leave this nation and this world a better place.

I believe that together we have a good chance of prevailing.

And I’m immensely grateful for having you as part of this community.

Please don’t worry about me. I find this satisfying and tell myself it’s important. Besides, I have only a certain number of years left when I can do as much as I’m doing, and I might as well take full advantage of it.

My only real worry is that I’m overloading you and over-filling your inbox. For which I apologize.

— Robert Reich