The house and the rented square: what happens when your audience isn't really yours

For years we were told social media was the right place to get noticed, until organic reach dropped to almost nothing and reaching the same people who already followed you started costing money. There's a distinction rarely stated clearly: a website is a house you control, a social network is a rented square — and the square's rules can change overnight.

For twenty years we were told social media was the right place to get noticed. Then, one day, organic reach dropped to almost nothing, and people who had built their voice there found themselves having to pay to be seen by the very same people who already followed them.

There's a distinction rarely stated clearly: when you publish on your own site, you're building a house. When you publish on a social network, you're building inside someone else's house — and that house's rules can change overnight, without warning.

The hidden cost of "free"

Over the years we've learned, at a steep price, that "free" social media comes with a cost. First sponsored content, then data profiling — information about who we are, where we live, what we post. Data protection authorities have stepped in, social networks have had to change some practices, paid options with better protection have appeared. But the underlying mechanism stays the same: your audience's attention always passes through an algorithm you don't control, one that can decide to show your content to ten people or ten thousand, based on criteria that change without any notice.

Twenty years an algorithm can't replicate

Gremus.it has existed for twenty years. It's an editorial site dedicated to classical music, built article by article, not post by post. In all that time, social media algorithms have changed dozens of times — Facebook has revised its feed more than once, other platforms have come and gone, visibility criteria have been rewritten from scratch more than once. Gremus.it is still there, its history intact.

This doesn't happen by chance. An editorial site accumulates something no social network can hand back the same way: authority, trust, a track record that search engines recognize over time. It's an asset that grows slowly and doesn't depend on a platform surviving, or on its business decisions. Even in an age when artificial intelligence can generate content in seconds, that accumulated history remains hard to replicate — because it isn't made of text alone, but of years of relationship with the people who read it.

Not a rejection of social media, but a question of where you lay the foundations

This doesn't mean social media isn't useful. It means understanding what you're building, and where. A social network can be a good place to reach new people, open a conversation, get an idea circulating. But if all your editorial work lives only there, you're building on ground that isn't yours — ground whose rules can change overnight without you having any say.

The useful question, before investing time in a channel, is simple: if this platform disappeared tomorrow, or completely changed its rules, what would be left for you? If the answer is "nothing", it's probably worth asking where your real house actually is.