Welcome to The Antidote.
I’m Carissa Véliz, and I’m delighted that you’re here.
The Antidote is an experiment in freedom, a project of play, a gathering place for those who are tired of the mainstream.
I’d been considering opening a Substack for a while. A quick search offered advice: how to maximize engagement, how to game the algorithm, how to win; publish every week, narrow the topic of your publications, give your users dopamine hits. No thanks. I refuse to enter a rat race. And I have no intention of manipulating your dopamine system. If I were to approach this publication with the mentality of pleasing the algorithm, The Antidote wouldn’t be an antidote.
I want this project to succeed on my own terms or not at all. I want freedom to write. I want to write broadly, about what is important to me and might be important to you too. Life is broad. The only attraction and offer of The Antidote is in the words themselves and the ideas and experiences therein.
Here’s the deal: if you keep on reading and supporting my work, I’ll keep on writing.
Who am I?
I’m a writer, first and foremost. I love writing more than anything in the world. I’m the author of Privacy Is Power, a book about the machinery of surveillance in the data economy, and Prophecy, a book about the virtues and vices of prediction, from the Oracle of Delphi to AI.
My day job is being an associate professor of philosophy at the University of Oxford.
I’m a painter. I’m a fairly good reader. I’m a pitiable runner. I wish I were a comedian or an art restorer.
I’m good trouble.
What to expect from The Antidote
I’m not sure. I’m new to Substack. I’m mostly trying it out thanks to the first few dozens of subscribers who joined this publication before I had published a single word, and to the kind reader who pledged a yearly payment before I had turned on payments. So I guess I’m Substacking.
I started this publication thanks to you, or readers like you, and it’ll evolve in the same way. Given that I’m the new kid on the block, feel free to show me around. What have you seen in the neighbourhood that has brought value and joy to your life? What features am I not using that I should use?
The Antidote is not a publication about tech, although given my area of research I am bound to go there from time to time. I’m especially likely to write about privacy, prediction, and power. But mostly I think we talk too much about tech these days and too little about the things that matter most in life (and tech ain’t one of ‘em). If we don’t think more deeply about the things that matter, we stand no chance of adequately understanding tech — or anything else.
This publication aspires to be an antidote to the mainstream. I’m not sure what you will find here, but what you won’t find is the parroting of tech hype. Technology will neither save nor ruin us. And there are many much more interesting things to think about and enjoy.
I want to write about culture in an environment full of content, of silence in a world of noise, of books in a milieu of podcasts. Books strike me as the perfect antidote to the ills of tech. In contrast to your whiny phone, a book doesn’t distract you with notifications. Unlike the infinite scroll, it’s carefully designed to begin and end. Instead of shortening your attention span and weakening your autonomy, it enhances both. It informs you rather than misinform you. It goes deep rather than shallow. It doesn’t surveil or judge you. It gives without asking anything in return from you. When you read a paper book, tech becomes irrelevant. You only get to live once, but if you read you get to live many lives in one. I want to write about the books I’ve read or am reading, partly for the joy of it, and partly to cultivate the community of readers amongst whom I want to live.
I want to write about light in the midst of gloom; to understand history better at a time when we are told we face unprecedented times; I’m increasingly more interested in the magic of the analogue in the face of the digital.
How you can help
Writers need readers. Books need friends. Democracy is a conversation, a civil and insightful and fruitful exchange of words.
Buy books, read books, talk about books, leave online reviews of books (a necessity for books to thrive in the digital age). Tell me what you find valuable, what has made you look at the world anew, what made you laugh. Be kind, be thoughtful, be classy.
Sponsor a writer. Sponsor this writer.
The greatest art and literature have often been produced through patronage. The biggest patrons of our age are big tech companies, and they are not sponsoring great art or literature or critical thinking. Part of the antidote to that is patronage from the citizenry; you are part of the antidote. (On that note, I’m also looking for a sponsor for a professorship at Oxford for which I can write the job description).
The Antidote is not a commercial enterprise even though you can subscribe for a fee. I am not selling anything and whatever you pay you shouldn’t do to get something concrete and measurable in return. If you are looking to have a transactional relationship with an author, you can move right along. This is a cultural project. If you think my work is valuable, then sponsor it as a thank you, a nod of encouragement, a note of kinship, a democratic act of helping to build the kind of world you want to live in, a leap of faith.
The digital context is so fast paced, and asks for such a high level of engagement (I cringe at the word), that superficiality is encouraged over substance. To have something interesting to say you need to be silent first — to read, listen, learn, process, experiment, iterate, polish. To view things from a different point of view you need to walk away from the crowd for a while, get some space, gain perspective.
Much of the content out there is immediate, thoughtless, raw. There’s some value in that, as long as it’s in the service of something that aims higher. I don’t know how often I will publish on Substack, because I don’t want anything to get in the way of my researching and writing books. If you subscribe to my Substack for a fee, what you are actually supporting is the work behind and beyond the Substack. My idea of great fun is writing from early in the morning until late into the night, so I’m not going to take the money and run.
What I’m trying to say is that, if you don’t hear from me for a few weeks, that’s probably because I’m brewing something. The most important work behind a polished finished work is invisible, silent, and private. Books, paintings, and deep thought need privacy to develop; hence why a leap of faith is needed. When you sponsor someone whose work you respect, trust their process and stand out of their light. For as long as I live, I’ll keep coming back, happy to share what I’ve discovered, assembled, and composed while I was away.
Let’s see where this road takes us, shall we?
Paid Membership
As a Paid Member, you’ll get the satisfaction of being part of The Antidote and the antidote, as well as access to commenting and chat. Suggestions welcome regarding paid memberships; I’m still working things out.
