A breakthrough for all writers
Revealed — The Real Reason Writers Don’t Make Money
Astonishing new study from the world’s leading think-tank shares why writers aren’t getting paid

A recent publication from the DeepThink Institute of Research (DIOR) has finally revealed why writers aren’t making any money.
In a press release that hit my desk this morning, the internationally renowned think tank’s lead researcher, Peter Emery Aubrey Brain, said this:
“On behalf of everyone at DIOR, we’re absolutely thrilled to bring you this game-changing research following on so quickly from other groundbreaking work we’ve recently completed, including, “Why Former Olympic Gymnasts Make Good Yoga Teachers.”
As soon as the memo landed, I contacted Brain for an interview. He suggested we meet at a trendy café nearby, adding this P.S at the bottom of his email:
“As I’m a scientist, you probably won’t recognise me, so just look out for the long, white labcoat and the shock of wild, silver hair.”
Luckily, among the thronging crowd of moustaches, sleeve tattoos, and berets, I found him without issue.

After we’d ordered coffee and cake, Brain began to share his excitement about the research.
“We all know writers get paid a pittance for their work, so we really wanted to understand precisely why writers don’t make any money.”
Curious, I asked if he had any inkling about what the reasons might have been when he started.
“Yes, in fact we did,” he said. “We thought it would be one of two things. Our first hypothesis was writers not actually writing enough.”
“I mean, it’s rather hard to get paid your worth when you’re not writing like a real writer should write, right?”
How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood was all I could think of.
Brain looked through me and continued.
“But it wasn’t through lack of effort. Indeed, we found a number of writers with panda-like black rings around their eyes who’d watched every Gary Vaynerchuk video ever made and were working 29 hours a day, just like Gary V pleads.”
“Some had even bashed their keyboards so hard in smashing out articles they just had little bloody nubs leaking fresh flesh where their fingers used to be. And still they kept writing between bouts of finger-licking nub sucking!”

“So it wasn’t through lack of writing?” I asked.
“Correct,” said Brain.
“What was hypothesis number two?” I probed.
“Once the data told us it wasn’t an effort-based problem, we were certain it would be through quitting too soon,” said Brain.
“Lots of people go through really productive spurts, like 14-year-old boys who’ve just discovered masturbation.”
“But it’s very hard to keep it up for years...”
Brain licked the cake off his fingers, then continued.
“Again, though, we came up empty-handed. We even found one gentleman, Peter Enright, who’d been writing every day since 1947. Love letters, poems, essays, haikus, political manifestos, Peter hadn’t stopped writing for 76 years. 27,740 days of writing.”
“Even while he was delivering the eulogy at his wife’s funeral, he managed to hide his hands behind the pulpit and knock one out!”
“Knock one out?” I said.
“An article!” said Brain, disgusted by my line of inquiry.
“Surely he was an outlier?” I queried.
“No!” said Brain.
“For example, we found countless other digital nomads who’d moved to Bali after Eat, Pray, Love and written every day for years about their journeys of wellness, yoga, and spiritual manifestations of authentic vulnerability.”
“One girl named Khaaren had sat on an empowerment rock for 9 whole years and chanted all sorts of gratitude manifestations to make money from her writing.”
“What did she get?” I asked.
“Nothing but hemorrhoids the size of watermelons!”

Going through my notes, I summarised what Brain had shared.
“So writers are putting in the effort, and they’re persevering, but they’re still not making any money. Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Exactly,” said Brain. “There was a whole list of things we got wrong.”
“Care to share?” I asked Brain.
He gave me a piece of paper with a list on it. The contents stunned me.
- Put in effort
- Persevered
- Manifested
- Got help from mentors and coaches
- Bought scandalously overpriced courses written by other writers who’d made no money
- Posted 40 times a day across social media
“None of these related to why writers aren’t making money?” I asked.
“Quite unbelievable, isn’t it?” said Brain. “Makes you think those online ‘thought leaders’ might be telling little porky pies, eh?”
My head wobbled in wonderment, but now I was dying to know the research’s conclusive findings.
Brain sensed my agitation.
“All those writers writing about writing aren’t writing the right things about writing, are they?” he said.
“Right,” I said.
“Let me kill the suspense for you,” he said.
“The number one reason writers don’t make any money from their writing is this — no-one is paying them any money for their writing.”
His big reveal disappeared my voice.
“It’s really very simple,” Brain continued. “Data doesn’t lie. Statistics don’t lie. And what they both emphatically told us was no matter how much you write, how consistently you write, or how well you write, if no-one’s paying you, you’re not getting paid.”
“Amazing! I’ve never heard the online gurus say this. That means to get paid, writers have to get paid?” I asked for clarification.
“Indeed. For instance, if they write on platforms like Medium, and people read their articles, then Medium will pay them.”
“But if their articles are utter tosh and no-one reads them, they won’t get paid.”
“So breathtakingly simple,” I said.
“To maintain DIOR’s stellar reputation and check our theory wasn’t flawed, we asked our respondents to show us their bank account deposits for the last 5 years.”
“Sure enough, not a single sign of a deposit which indicated they’d been paid anything for their writing.”
“That’s when we knew we’d cracked the Da Vinci code.”
With that, Brain got up and said goodbye.
Before he could get to the door, I asked him one final question.
“You said that if writers want to get paid on Medium, they have to write articles that get read. How do they do that?”
Brain looked at me like I’d just licked his nose and pulled a hair from his nostrils with my teeth. Then said:
“We’re good at DIOR. But we’re not that good.”







