You Are Worth $0.00

It’s depressing having no worth.

Even in a commoditized society, it seems that my production of content — that complicated process of stringing thoughts together to make a cogent idea spring to life — is worth $0.00. Evidently, makers of soda and shoelaces have more to contribute than I do.

I guess maybe it’s that I don’t produce “things.” Abstractions like similes and metaphors don’t really count since I’m not physically contributing to our Great Society. Unlike, say, hedge fund managers and financial gurus who actually create… I was going to say wealth, but I’m not so certain about that anymore.


Tim Kreider’s excellent OpEd piece, “Slaves of the Internet, Unite!” rings true to anyone who scrolls through craigslist or other job boards. Breathless demands for long skill sets, availability and expensive requisites are punctuated by depressing rates of $10.00 an hour for advanced content development, hard core coding and elaborate design.

I’m beginning to question my use of the word “content” since the article points out in very clear detail:

“The first time I ever heard the word 'content' used in its current context, I understood that all my artist friends and I — henceforth, “content providers” — were essentially extinct.”

Sad, really. And true. I will reconsider using the word “content” and begin using “artist” since I am expected to produce tangible goods but with the ephemeral spirit and purpose of an artist. Meaning, I need to starve and be financially insecure in order that others might gather wealth.

I think the call to arms, that we should, as a group, refuse to “give it away” is essentially a noble and true thing to demand. Will it affect any change? Probably not. We have come to expect that things are created and distributed free. “Content,” in all of its abstractness is just another thing to be delivered digitally to our very real and very expensive computers, tablets, phones and televisions. I have stopped even cringing at the plaintive demands for “blogging interns” or “work for exposure” assignments. I simply delete them from my email inbox.

If I did respond, I would actually be creating content for nothing, even if it felt good, just and right.