Six Months In: A State of the Bear Update
An end-of-year thank you to the people who made this possible
I woke up this morning with a mild, but pretty insistent, hangover - nowhere along the lines of a proper bang-babbelas1, but definitely a lingering headache, a slightly dryer than is normal throat and a pervasive feeling of what I can only describe as “bleugh.”
I am, however, choosing to blame this on quality over quantity - the three glasses of house red wine I had at the bar must have very clearly been past its sell by date by the taste of it, and I should have known better. Still, being a responsible citizen that I am, I shall give the bar in question a quick ring and let them know that their wine has the risk of making people ill. They just need to put out a little warning. Or something.
The relevance of this situation to this post is somewhat tangential though, because this is what I’ve come to think of as my “State of the Bear” update which I like to do around this time of month and in which I have a bit of a look at the state of affairs and give you guys a small update2. This month’s is a big one though, because today marks six months from my decision point to stop treating Bearly Politics half-arsedly, and start treating it with a bit more care than “I really want to shout at right-wing politicians.”
And over the past six months things have happened - a helluva lot of them in fact3.
For those of you familiar with the sequence of events, on the 18th of June I made the decision to move all of my long-form writing from the post-apocalyptic cesspit previously known as Twitter onto Bearly Politics, and, even more importantly, to start thoroughly professionalising my work. It was also the point at which I asked your opinion on whether I should include an option to pay on the back of a soft-paywall.
In September I stepped even further away from said hellsite, using it for purely distributive purposes, and watched my previous blue-tick life fade away into the distance4.
Those two points in time brought huge changes in how I’ve approached writing, with the most important impact of all being that I slowed down5. I became far less reactive and much more deliberate - instead of thinking what would land instantly and give me all the likes, views, reposts, quotes and validation that’s so incredibly addictive, I started thinking more in terms of what might still make sense if you read it a week outside of the news cycle, and what would genuinely be helpful to me.
The move from Twitter was something I was very anxious about at the time - it felt like stepping out of the room where everything happens and hoping I would still know what was going on6 and be able to maintain my relevance, but, importantly, it was something that had to be done.
It worked out greatly in my favour.
Since June, around four thousand new readers have found their way to Bearly Politics, but even more important than that number, is that people didn’t only join my shouting corner of the intervoids, they stayed. You guys have not only been reading, but communicating - not just telling me “good post”, but making me think differently, adjust my views, question my own sanity at times and feel like I learn from you in return for what I put out.
This is not a metric that is easily graphable (I tried), but it’s one that I care about a great deal.
This period has also been filled with moments that, had I written them in a pitch document at the time, would have felt wildly optimistic. I’ve been able to do a bit of work with Sam Bright, Dr Julia Grace Patterson💙, Emma Monk, Zoe Grunewald, Frances Coppola and Mark Kieran - people whose work I’ve admired for a while.
I discovered new writers that I have come to look forward to reading when they publish, like Andy Carter, Cristina Carmona Aliaga, Jo Elvin Marina Purkiss and Jemma Forte (the latter two being long-time favourites of mine and being thrilled when they also joined the Stack).
I did interviews with satirical heroes of mine, Larry the Cat and Sir Michael Take - both characters that are emblematic of something a bit subversive, mischievous and very necessary about political culture in the UK.
I tried things that didn’t quite work out - the recipes, for one and Bearly Newsworthy. One I hadn’t thought through the full logistics and effort that it actually takes to do well, and the other I wasn’t able to give the time it deserved. Lessons learned from both. I’ll chalk it up to optimism and move on.
In between all of the writing, networking and trying to be all professional, another thing also happened - I managed to make friends. Not followers. Not “connections” - actual people. People who email me regularly to check in, who argue with me in good-faith and who make Bearly Politics feel more like a place than just something that could be plugged into an RSS feed and forgotten about.
And slowly but surely something else started happening, something that crept up on me over the months and months of writing, publishing, editing and experimenting - I got direction7. Not just output or momentum, but a far more clear idea of what this work is for, who it is meant to serve and how I would like to go about doing it. I am incredibly grateful for this clarity.
The final thing that happened, and this is monumental, is something that was a bit anticipated.
All of the subscription fees that have come in over the months (minus paying for a very expensive picture of Nigel Farage8, two Lego Sets, a very expensive flight to South Africa and putting aside what is needed to give to HMRC) have been quietly going into a savings account. It’s not a glamorous bathing in tubs of Sancerre amount, but it was enough to support me in doing one very big thing.
Resign from my job in the Health Service.
The subscriptions are not enough for me to not work at all (I’ve reached 12% of my target of being able to exclusively do writing), however, having a few pounds sitting in a nest egg that can carry me for a month or two while I decide what my next steps will be has been life changing. Through this community, I have been able to carve out myself room to breathe, which is just mind-blowing.
I want to say this as plainly as possible because it really matters - that was only possible because of you. Not in a “believe in yourself” motivational poster sense, but in a very real, very practical sense - because all of you chose to read, to share to subscribe and, for some of you, to pay for this work month after month for half a year now.
There are very, very few people out there who ever get a chance to step away from a secure job with even the thinnest of safety nets available, and fewer still who get to do so because a community of people decided that what they have decided to do is worth backing. I realise sharply just how incredibly lucky I am, and I think about it everytime that I click on “Create New” in my dashboard.
So just, thank you. Very much.
In terms of the ongoing work itself, I have now kicked off my monstrous debunk of 75 Brexit Benefits - a project that will take me a good six months to complete, and likely add many more grey hairs to what is already quite a few. Progress in this is steady rather than frantic, which feels right - it feels like if I’m going to do this, let me do it carefully and well.
Mostly though, for this month’s State of the Bear, I just wanted to thank everyone. For reading and sticking around and for backing this work I’m doing in whatever way you’re able. You’re not an “audience” in my mind, you’re stakeholders (in the best sense of the word) in something that I care about very deeply.
So, as we head into Chrimbo - or whatever it is you celebrate at this time of year - I hope everyone gets some rest, warmth and at least one good meal where you don’t have to do the washing up. I’ll be here over the Christmas season giving the health service its final pound of flesh, hopefully with a glass of wine that hasn’t gone off and quietly plotting what comes in 2026.
Translation from Afrikaans: Terror-Hangover
Otherwise known by some as “Unnecessary Spamming.”
I am not being hyperbolic, my spreadsheet agrees.
I have since then recovered emotionally. Mostly.
Yes, my current rate of output is in fact me slowing down. Sorry-not-sorry.
What was going on was unhinged shouting about vegans, immigrants and socialists. Nothing new.
Brief clarification - this does not mean I fully know what I’m doing, it just means I know why I’m doing it.
A point of bitterness that I paid nearly £500 is a subject I may not recover from. Ever.
Once and if summer weather allows it I would like to organise a Bear picnic in a suitable London park so all Ursus fans can meet up and talk about the issues that bring us here. I suspect very few arguments would occur over the coleslaw at such a get together.
Dear Bear, I follow you because of what you write and how you write ( some words I’ve never heard of ). What I appreciate is the clarity that allows me to have greater understanding of complex situations. What I particularly like is that you can adapt and change the things that work and don’t work. The ability to change your position or thinking because upon reflection you can see things differently is a talent. We need politicians who can flex when something is clearly wrong, like Brexit red lines. I look forward to your next insight. Best wishes.