Communiqué 19: How to deal with creator burnout

Death, taxes, and creator burnout.

Credit: Tim Robberts

My biggest fear launching this newsletter in April 2020 was how it would end. I’ve played out several scenarios in my head, often with a tinge of fear.

In one scenario, I’m many months into a premium model where everyone pays to read most of the essays, but I’m at my wit’s end. I’m jaded, and my brain is scorched as desert sand. Still, I can’t stop. I must keep going. I have an obligation to the people who pay me to churn out insights.

In another scenario, the newsletter remains “free”. I put free in air quotes because is anything ever really free? Every ten minutes someone stops to read the newsletter is ten minutes of their life they could’ve spent doing something else. That’s not “free”. Every edition of the newsletter I publish is at least ten hours of my life I could’ve spent doing something else. That’s not “free”. But for now, let’s stick with the word. In this scenario where the newsletter remains “free”, I’m a prisoner to the schedule. Weekly, bi-weekly, monthly, it doesn’t matter. A schedule is a schedule, and it ruthlessly demands commitment.

In the third scenario, Communiqué evolves. What was once a newsletter grows into something bigger, something that requires more hands than I currently have. In this scenario, Communiqué exists in multiple forms – as a newsletter, videos, podcasts, illustrations, the whole gamut of content formats, most of which are produced by people not named David Adeleke. This is, perhaps, the likeliest outcome. But arriving at that point won’t be easy, and until then, there’s a cross to carry.

Creators and the cross of burnout

Like me, every creator fears the day their creative juices run out. One of my favourite examinations of creator burnout happens in this New York Times piece by Taylor Lorenz.

She opens with quotes that perfectly sum the conversation up: “I feel like I’m tapping a keg that’s been empty for a year,” says Canadian TikToker and model Jack Innanen. “I get to the point where I’m like, ‘I have to make a video today,’ and I spend the entire day dreading the process.”

Creator burnout is a problem that many don’t often admit publicly. In 2018, several major YouTubers became victims of burnout and had to step away from the platform for a while, primarily for mental health reasons. In 2016, PewDiePie briefly quit vlogging on YouTube for the same reason. The pressure to constantly create and put out content weighed heavily on him. He eventually returned, but still, his public admission of burnout was a landmark event.

Another TikToker, Zach Jelks, told The New York Times, “I do worry about my longevity on social media. People just throw one creator away because they’re tired of them.”

And I know a few creators in my circle who’ve had to give up what they love doing so much or at least are on the edge of giving up because their tank is empty.

Credit: Michael Dillon / EyeEm

Why do creators burn out?

Creator burnout is the flip side of the Internet’s coin. On one side is the abundance of opportunities that the Internet’s borderlessness creates. On the other side is the insatiable appetite for content that comes with this absence of borders.

In 2020, YouTube saw a 43% surge in video consumption on its platform. The numbers have risen steadily, on mobile especially, in recent years. This consistent demand for content, coupled with the transience of attention, puts creators under pressure to produce constantly. As Olga Kay famously told Fast Company in 2014, “If you slow down, you might disappear.” And many have, for better or worse.

Furthermore, because creators often have to keep producing content to earn income from their work (that is if they want to be successful), this could lead to anxiety over income sustainability, which could very well result in burnout.

The obvious solution is for creators to either reduce the frequency with which they publish or outsource some of the work to capable hands. Still, if, as a creator, you reduce how often you put out content, your audience size will likely drop, and so will your income. The alternative, which is to outsource some of the work, also requires money. How can you make more money if you aren’t producing as much? Or, framed another way, how can you make more money without needing to tie yourself to producing so much that your creative juices run out?

Ideas for dealing with burnout

Credit: Malte Mueller

I’m not quite sure if we can ever eliminate burnout. But I think we can handle it better. I think we can set up structures and roadmaps that help us chart the course for a sustainable creator economy where we’re less prone to burnout.

Here are a few ideas:

1. Income diversification

I think this is the lowest-hanging fruit and perhaps the most popular option. We’ve already seen it play out as more creators explore social commerce, merchandising, consulting, paid communities and events, etc. Any option beyond sponsorship deals and subscriptions is worth considering.

2. Ownership and equity

Much like athletes, musicians, and actors, there’s not a single creator who will be hot forever. Therefore, it’s sensible for us to think about ways to formalise and standardise our practice to the point where we can either transition into investors or, instead of always taking fees and commissions, request some slice of ownership from the brands that approach us for deals. This is particularly important for African creators who have built large followings.

Studying global marketing trends will help us understand that we’re at a tipping point in history where influencers (and creators) are becoming essential cogs in the engine of brand marketing. So, it might be a good idea to ask brands for stock options instead of simply accepting cash all the time.

3. Creators as investors

In 2020, Harry Stebbings, host of The Twenty Minute VC podcast, launched a micro fund for $8.3 million in what is one of the most popular creator-to-investor transitions globally. Earlier this year, Stebbings raised an additional $140 million. While there is no guarantee that his skills as a podcaster will serve him well as an investor, his transition does point out what is possible.

Creating content and making money from it doesn’t preclude you from leveraging your network and using that to build a more sustainable financial future for yourself. There are many more examples of creators becoming investors, and we will likely see more in the near future. I’d particularly like to see more examples in Africa. Beyond investing as a venture capitalist, you can become a talent scout for more creators, provide them with seed funding, and earmark a portion of their revenue as your return on investment.

4. Intellectual property commercialisation

Data will increasingly influence the movies and TV shows of the future. (It already does now, but even more so in the coming years.) Right now, this plays out in the form of studio remakes and influencer-driven casts. But I imagine there will be a time soon where movie studios will resort to taking skits and creator ideas and building bigger storylines around them. Or perhaps a time when we see podcasts and newsletters grow into larger experiential concepts than their initial artform. Before that time comes, however, creators (again, particularly those in Africa) need to invest more in intellectual property protection. As Western corporations have shown us, nothing is too ridiculous or insignificant to copyright.

5. Non-Fungible Tokens

There’s no better time in history to be a creator than now, especially if you live in an emerging economy. You’re no longer bound by geography and the stringent economic realities of your market. We’ve recently seen African digital artists make thousands of dollars by listing their art as NFTs (examples here and here). But digital paintings and images aren’t the only things that can be minted as NFTs, articles can be too. This opens up a new world of opportunities that scarcely existed on such a massive scale before. To understand what NFTs are and why they’re so revolutionary, start with this explainer.

Final notes

I don’t intend to shut down this newsletter anytime soon. But I’m seriously thinking about its sustainability. For something that relies heavily on the quality of insight, I plan to spend the next few weeks trying to answer some of these questions: How do I keep up Communiqué + my day job without burning out? How do I preserve the essence of this publication so I can continue serving you to the best of my ability, even if it means shedding most of the load? Thankfully, this process will become easier with Substack’s help through its Grow Fellowship, which I’m a part of.

As 2021 winds down, allow me to ask you for a favour, please. Reach out to all the creators that have made your year worth it. Send them “Thank You” notes. Send them kind and gentle messages of encouragement. And if possible, buy them gifts.

Being a creator is hard, even if it doesn’t always look like it, but it’s worth it when the people we create for appreciate us for what we do.

Thank you, and see you in 2022!