I Explain Why Your Favorite X Accounts Have Lost Their Minds
X has lost its initial intent and spirit to its ad revenues program, which guarantees laser precision and a focus on actionable information take a back seat to clickbait and faux outrage.
You will never hear me hating on influencers as if influencer-hate were a pastime or hobby. Influencers come in many shapes and sizes; there are both good and bad. Besides, many can’t agree on what makes one person an influencer and another just someone with a large account. Many consider yours truly an influencer with regard to election integrity. Sometimes, I think influencer hate is centered around jealousy over others having large platforms and widespread reach.
The left has plenty of influencers, plus control of most institutions and media. The right had better have some, too, or they’ll get swept aside in decades to come. Unfortunately, we’ve reached a point of contention in which specifically the X platform has been turned into an online insane asylum due to its ad revenue monetization policies. With the Epstein fiasco all over the Internet recently, following many other controversial sagas in which it was sworn over and over again the world was ending, I think it’s time I help you understand what is going on in the engine room when your favorite influencers are losing their minds on X.
I have not used X much since the election, and not at all since the end of April. It was a personal decision to remove toxicity from my life and focus on my long-form writing and analysis over here, where I have one of the top-ranked right-of-center political newsletters in the world. When huge X account owners were posting their take-home ad revenues pay, I thought it was tacky as hell; however, to get my point across, I’m going to show you mine from October 2024 through March 2025:
I pulled this to handle my 2024 taxes. You can see two months of extensive use, when my X account took off as election season burned hot, and when I started ramping down my use of the platform in December. There are two payments that stand out:
$417.09 from October 25 through November 8
$610.47 from November 8 through November 22
My analysis was going everywhere, and I gained thousands of subscribers per day as Election Day came and went. Huge accounts all over the world were sharing my stuff, and each exchange on the platform turbocharged the earnings potential. Still, we are only talking about a little over $1,000 for my peak relevance. So, what gives?
First off, my posts from that time are mostly analytical and fact-based, light on replies and arguing and bereft of outrage unless it had specifically to do with places like Bucks County shutting down early voting lines. I don’t and never will specialize in online junk food just for clicks. I had about 65,000 X followers when I began ramping down, and now over 68,800. Let’s keep the 65,000 number constant for the napkin math study that follows.
My average ad revenues haul for those two periods is $513.78, or $36.70 per day when divided by 14. The algorithms determining payouts hinge largely on engagement (reposts, likes, comments from big accounts). The more huge accounts share your stuff, the bigger the payouts. This is why you see large accounts trading virtual blows with one another in back and forth public spectacles in which everyone chimes in. One repost from Elon Musk can drastically change your financial outlook for a month. I made what I made on 65,000 followers, which is a lot of followers relative to the general population but just a baby account in the larger sea of influencers.
If given the same relative exposure and high-profile content sharing, an account with ten times my size (650,000 subscribers) would haul in $5,137.80 per pay period (over $11,000 per month) if scaled out. An account with 3.25 million subscribers (50 times my size, or 5 times the size of the account we just war-gamed), would be hauling in over $25,000 per pay period. I don’t begrudge anyone the right to monetize content, be paid for speaking events, or benefit from having their intellectual capital and likeness used by others. I just prefer to earn my money in a transparent way in which serious observers never question my integrity, and by extension, the accuracy and purpose of my message.
I posted more than I cared to post during election season, and wrote it off as important for the cause. The money was not life-changing but nice to have. Ultimately, it was the $234.57 pay period in December, coming after weeks of sitting on the platform all day, that led immediately to my article announcing my intention to consolidate on this platform and get my life back:
Simply put, the payouts weren’t worth the time, anxiety, and online abuse from people lacking the courage to sign their God-given name to their hatred involved in making them…not for me, anyway. But they could have been huge if I simply did what the online complaint mafia does today. You know who they are - they’re usually the people everyone unfollows when endless drama breaks out:
Crisis comes
Supposed free-thinkers follow media narratives
Doom is declared
“It’s over” and “everything has been a waste” is the message of the day
Millions of panicked subscribers repost, share, comment, and echo “I told you so” until even larger accounts magnify the payouts going to those qualified to receive them
Do this enough times and you can set your clock and budget to certain revenues. I suppose I could have posted enough with 65,000 subscribers to guarantee $1,000 a month in ad revenues. Growth would be inevitable, and once I reached a half-million or more subscribers, I’d be looking at close to $10,000 a month, or over six-figures a year, just to post mental junk food online. For influencers who have been swayed by these revenues, returning to accurate and restrained online behavior requires accepting a large pay cut. Most are unwilling to do that.
My reputation is more important than ad revenues and the ridiculous, constantly online behavior required to sustain it. Hopefully this brief overview helps you understand why certain accounts on X act the way they do. The spirit of the platform, designed to publish news and updates rapidly, has been compromised by the ad revenues driven by behaviors that elicit everything but precision, accuracy, trustworthiness, and laser-focus on actionable change.
If this post resonates with you, I would appreciate your paid support on this platform, which concentrates on driving positive change by sharing valuable information based on those good things listed above. Thank you!
Seth Keshel, MBA, is a former Army Captain of Military Intelligence and Afghanistan veteran. His analytical method of election forecasting and analytics is known worldwide, and he has been commended by President Donald J. Trump for his work in the field.
The great thing about Substack is that you can do deep dives on subjects and find readers. In the legacy media, you cannot. On the socials you cannot. Yes, it is an income cut, but the absence of trolls and controls makes it worth it - it is subtle influence, and I think more significant.
thank you for the economics lesson. Explains a lot about the wildly divergent Epstein opinions out there.