[...] Creative work done for artistic purposes is thought to exist for reasons above money. "Love and honor” is a convenient excuse to not compensate for it, “exposure” too. Creative work for commercial purposes, on the other hand, can be handsomely rewarded. However you’re doing a job for somebody else.

The people who make the first kind of work are historically called “fine artists.” The people who make the second kind of work are called “commercial artists.” These two roles defined the creative landscape for centuries. There’s work you do for yourself (capital-A Art) and there’s work you do for others (sometimes Art, but also decoration, ego-fluffing, and market-driven motivations). Most creative people straddle a hybrid of both: commercial art for their livelihoods, fine art for their souls.

In recent decades a similar but distinct creative role has emerged: the creator. People who make a living from subscriptions, crowdfunding, selling merch, and other forms of direct exchange unlocked by the web.

Like artists, creators have a lot of freedom in what they do. They’re even more free in some ways, as they aren’t confined to the canon of what they’re “supposed to do.” All tools of the market are at their disposal: from products to livestreams to memecoins to ghost kitchens to limited edition drops. Unlike artists, they don't have to navigate the academy system or art world politics to do it.

Creators don’t answer to a boss, but they do answer to an audience. For most this is a smaller audience than they hope. For a few this means fame and attention beyond imagination whose pressure can create a performative cycle that can eventually lead to burnout and debilitating narcissism.

Also unlike artists, creators are explicitly commercial in what they do. They want you to smash that like and subscribe button. They launch courses and new products to further monetize themselves. They see their work as inherently commercial, even industrial. The opposite is true for most artists.