> On July 13, 2020, YouTube deleted my main channel with nearly 60,000 subscribers. Fourteen years of labor and love that I spent building up a channel were gone in an instant. Since then, I’ve realized the folly of using any kind of Silicon Valley platform in order to present my work to the public.
> The two biggest draws of the platform are the convenience and the user base. By the time you encounter a platform that could be useful, it already has tens of thousands—if not millions—of users. Wouldn’t it be nice if you could start sharing work that reaches those people, without having to set up your own website and painstakingly market to your intended audience?
> It’s helpful that the platform exaggerates its own usefulness by implementing an algorithm to give followers and views to new users even if their content doesn’t warrant it. The honeymoon won’t last for long: soon the platform holds your followers hostage. Instead of showing followers your content, a platform like Facebook demands money from you to help “boost” your post—to those who already opted in to your work. Or how about YouTube, which refuses to notify your subscribers of a new video upload. Once the platform gets big enough, the algorithm is tweaked to maximize benefits for them, not exposure for you.
> When using a platform, you’re essentially making a deal with the devil. You grant a perpetual license for your content to a corporation and submit to arbitrary and stifling rules in exchange for eyeballs, status, or fame. As long as you serve the will of the platform, the deal seems like it will have no cost, but as soon as you begin to think for yourself, or wish to create content that does not serve the prevailing agenda of the Jewish owner of the platform, you will be swiftly throttled or banned.