Is Tsu Social Network a Profitable Opportunity or a Risky Pyramid Scheme?
Note: This post was first published on the Nov 11, 2015.
If you’re an active Internet user, you’ve likely heard of Tsu.co or Tsū, the social network that’s been generating both hype and controversy lately. Despite its year-long existence, Tsū has faced significant criticism, and recently, it had its API and links banned from Facebook.
Until recently, Tsū was an invite-only network where content and posts were inaccessible to crawlers, spiders, and scrapers. The ban, now ongoing for over a month, is likely impacting users who relied on cross-promoting their Tsū content on Facebook to extend their reach.
Facebook, led by Mark Zuckerberg, alleges that Tsū users have been manipulating the system by creating fake accounts to artificially promote their posts and boost their earnings on Tsū (more on that below).
Sebastian Sobczak, who co-founded Tsū with Drew Ginsburg, along with several artists affected by the ban, argue that this is a strategic move by Facebook to undermine a growing competitor. In response, Tsū has now opened its doors to all users (not that it was particularly difficult to join before).
The Business of Ads on Tsū
What exactly about Tsū is causing friction with Facebook? Despite its 4.5 million users, Tsū is far from becoming a household name like Facebook, with its billion-strong user base.
However, more artists and early adopters are flocking to Tsū, primarily drawn by its rebellious stance against Facebook. The platform’s anti-Facebook rhetoric, combined with the promise to let users keep 90% of the ad revenue, seems to be resonating with its audience.
Users have been quick to embrace this model, seeing it as an opportunity to monetize their own content.
Tsū has recently tightened its policies on posting third-party content, making its revenue stream particularly appealing to creators and artists. Despite this, Tsū doesn’t aim to be exclusive, unlike other networks like Ello, which made headlines for its no-ads promise.
Although Ello may have faded from the spotlight, it continues to focus on “beauty,” monetizing through T-shirts and paraphernalia featuring user-generated art, similar to what VSCO is doing with its Artifact Uprising app. Tsū, on the other hand, takes a more pragmatic approach, focusing on business-centric monetization rather than artsy propositions.
Monetization: How Tsū Helps You Earn
Advertising revenue sustains most publishers today, but the growing popularity of ad blockers is challenging this model in favor of a better user experience. Social media platforms aren’t immune to this trend unless they are whitelisted by users.
Despite the challenges, traditional ad practices remain lucrative, and platforms like Facebook and WordPress continue to rely on them. However, Tsū takes a different approach, keeping only 10% of the ad revenue, with users earning 45% in “royalties” on original content. The remaining revenue is distributed among their “family tree” – the “parents” who invited them to the network.
Your earnings from Tsū’s Monetization Service depend on your follower count, the number of “children” you’ve invited, and the shares your posts and your invitees’ posts receive. More views on a post mean more ad impressions and clicks, leading to higher earnings.
Veteran Tsū users, however, caution that payments can be slow to arrive. The initial months are focused on building your network by posting original, well-hashtagged content and engaging in meaningful, full-sentence comments.
While comments won’t earn you royalties, they can increase your profile visibility and potentially attract more followers, just like on most social networks.
How Does Tsū Work?
After spending a few weeks exploring Tsū (under an alias), I found that its features and functionalities are quite similar to what you’d expect if you’ve ever used Facebook.
The now-discontinued invite-only system primarily served as a status symbol and offered the added benefit that any “invited” user would automatically become a revenue source for their “parent.”
If, like me, you didn’t know anyone on Tsū, all you needed to do was search for a “Tsū invite code” online, and you’d easily find numerous sites listing existing users’ personal short codes, which you could use to join.
What Happens After You Join Tsū?
Once you join, you start by filling out your profile with the usual details (photo, bio, links to other social accounts) and exploring other users (referred to as #Tsūalites) to follow, which you can do through the Popular tab.
You can also join a TsūGroup, a feature currently in Beta. There are only seven groups so far, with the most popular one, TsūCharities, boasting nearly 32,000 members.
Who Controls the Revenue?
The main question that arises when people hear about Tsū’s appealing revenue model is, “What’s the catch?” Many critics have voiced concerns that Tsū might be nothing more than a multi-level marketing (MLM) scheme.
At first glance, the accusation does seem to fit.
However, let’s clarify how it works. When you join Tsū, you enter into a contract with Evacuation Complete, the company behind Tsū. This contract allows you, the person who invited you (if applicable), and anyone you invite to earn money from the ads displayed on Tsū.
The algorithm used to distribute the revenue is described in the Terms of Service as the “rule of infinite thirds.” (Don’t worry too much about the jargon; overthinking Tsū can defeat the purpose of using it.)
How Tsū Distributes Earnings
The algorithm that powers Tsū runs whenever your wallet is updated with earnings. However, you won’t be eligible to cash out until your account balance (under the “Bank” tab) reaches at least $100.
Tsū works with a variety of advertisers, ensuring a steady revenue stream for the platform. Recently, Tsū has managed to navigate around Apple’s ban on pay-for-install practices for apps, so on its mobile version, you might see ads from big names like Twitter or Lyft encouraging you to install their apps.
When you click through to install these advertised apps, it generates more ad revenue for you, creating a circular flow of money. As long as Tsū’s user base continues to grow, this model benefits both advertisers and Tsūalites.
By pointing to advertisers as the sole source of revenue injection, Tsū can refute the MLM allegations. However, like any exploited loophole, this approach is both defensible and raises some eyebrows.
Why the Backlash Against Tsū?
While these loopholes may legally shield Tsū from scrutiny, there’s a perceived shadiness surrounding such practices that bothers some people.
On the practical side, Tsū’s payment model undeniably supports some artists, allowing them to survive and even thrive. The platform’s emphasis on original content also adds value in a digital landscape plagued by unchecked copyright infringements and a shortage of quality content.
However, I personally didn’t find Tsū appealing for a few reasons, which may just be my own sensitivities at play.
Firstly, there’s a noticeable aura of hypocrisy: while the platform and its users tout the noble goal of building a community, the underlying focus seems far more pragmatic – primarily about monetizing content and getting paid. While it’s entirely fair for artists to seek compensation for their work, much of the content I observed on Tsū seems to stretch the definition of “art.”
I don’t mean to offend anyone on Tsū, but from what I saw, the majority of users are not artists in the traditional sense. Their idea of valuable content often involves posting a photo with stickers and hoping it goes viral for a quick payout.
The platform’s written posting rules, such as limiting posts to 45 times a day (including no more than 15 shares), and other restrictions like 50 pending friend requests at any given time and a cap of 1000 people you can follow, dilute the potential for genuine networking, in my opinion.
The rulebook feels like a top-down enforcement in a space that might collapse without strict regulation. The overall vibe I got from the community felt overly polite, as users seemed more focused on being nice to everyone to ultimately gain more followers, more views, more shares, and, of course, more money.
Perhaps I’m misreading the “room,” or maybe I’m just more confrontational than most, but at some point, you have to wonder: how many different, eloquent, multi-word ways can you say thank you for a post?