Much publishing is done through politics, friends, and natural

Hear the words of Charles Bukowski, the raw and unflinching poet of the common man, who declared: “Much publishing is done through politics, friends, and natural stupidity.” In these words lies a bitter truth, spoken not from cynicism alone but from the hard road of experience. For Bukowski knew well the gates of the literary world, and he saw that genius alone is not always enough to open them. Too often, the doors of publishing swing not on the hinges of merit, but on the hidden levers of connections, favoritism, and folly.

The origin of this truth lies in Bukowski’s own life. For years, he lived in obscurity, working menial jobs, sending poems and stories into the void, often to be ignored or rejected. He saw others, less gifted but better connected, rise to prominence while his own work lay unread. When finally discovered, it was through the persistence of a small press and an editor who believed in him—not through the golden pathways of the literary establishment. From such trials, he spoke plainly: much of what finds its way into print is less about vision and craft, more about politics and friends, and the strange stupidity of those who mistake trend for talent.

Consider, O listener, the story of Herman Melville. His Moby-Dick—now hailed as one of the greatest novels of all time—was a failure in its own day, dismissed and forgotten, while lighter works with friendlier politics gained popularity. Melville died in obscurity, a customs inspector, while lesser names filled the shelves of publishers. Here again we see Bukowski’s wisdom: the currents of publishing are not always aligned with genius. They are swayed by networks, by market whims, by the blindness of gatekeepers.

Yet let us not despair. Bukowski’s words are not only lament but also revelation. For if the gates are guarded by politics and friends, then it falls upon the true artist to seek paths beyond them. The world has changed since Bukowski’s day, and never has there been greater opportunity for writers to bypass the foolishness of the establishment and speak directly to the people. But his warning remains: do not mistake the publishing industry for the pure realm of art. See it as it is—messy, partial, often unjust—and do not lose heart when the unworthy are exalted before the worthy.

There is also wisdom here for all who struggle, not only writers. In every field, whether art, science, or politics, advancement is not always determined by merit alone. Sometimes it is shaped by relationships, sometimes by accidents, sometimes by the folly of those in power. To know this is not to surrender, but to be prepared. It is to armor oneself with patience, persistence, and the courage to keep creating even when recognition is withheld.

O seeker, the lesson is this: measure your worth not by the gatekeepers of the age, but by the truth of your work. If you are a writer, then write. If you are an artist, then create. Let your craft be your testimony, whether or not the politics of the moment allow it to shine. For history has a longer memory than publishers, and time, not fashion, is the final judge. The fools may lift up the shallow today, but tomorrow the world will rediscover the depth they ignored.

And what actions must you take? Build communities of honesty rather than flattery. Seek mentors and companions who value substance over trend. Do not despair if the machinery of publishing overlooks you—seek the direct road to readers, who hunger always for truth. Above all, do not allow bitterness to silence you. For though politics, friends, and stupidity may govern much of what is seen, persistence and authenticity will outlast them, as they always have.

Thus, remember Bukowski’s words as both warning and fuel. The world is unfair, yes, but still it is worth speaking, worth writing, worth creating. Do not seek only the approval of publishers, for they are mortal and flawed; seek instead to leave behind work that cannot be ignored by eternity. For in the end, though stupidity may publish much, greatness will endure.