A 50% “Sin Tax” and the Cost of Silence

Ryder Vale on Florida politics, creator scapegoating, and why press matters more than ever

When Joseph sent me this assignment, his message wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t polished. It was blunt.

“This is why we work so hard to create a free press for content creators. Idiots like this guy are able to fill people’s minds with whatever he wants, because creators’ stories aren’t being told enough. I wish more content creators understood this.”

Then he dropped the link.

The story, first reported by NBC 6 South Florida, centered on a Republican candidate for Florida governor, James Fishback, who proposed a 50% “sin tax” on OnlyFans creators. Not on platforms. Not on corporations. On individual creators.

Fifty percent.

Framed not as an economic policy, but as a moral corrective. As Fishback put it during an interview on a conservative podcast, OnlyFans is an “online degeneracy platform,” and the tax would be designed to “disincentivize” that behavior. The revenue, he claimed, would be used for education, crisis pregnancy centers, and a mental-health czar “focused on men.”

It was hard not to read that and feel like the conclusion had been decided long before the math.

When a Talking Point Becomes a Weapon

What struck me immediately wasn’t just the size of the proposed tax—it was how casually it was justified.

Sin taxes traditionally target products: alcohol, tobacco, gambling. This proposal didn’t target an activity in that sense. It targeted people. Specific workers. A digital labor class that happens to be visible, controversial, and politically convenient.

Creators weren’t framed as entrepreneurs. Or small-business owners. Or independent contractors paying federal and state taxes like anyone else.

They were framed as a problem to be punished.

And when Sophie Rain responded publicly—after Fishback singled her out by name—the exchange went viral. It was sharp. It was funny. It was internet-ready. But it also underscored the imbalance in the conversation. A political candidate can label an entire workforce “degenerate” on a podcast and call it policy. Creators are left responding in tweets.

That’s not a debate. That’s a power gap.

Why This Proposal Works Politically (Even If It’s Absurd)

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: proposals like this gain traction because there’s a vacuum.

When creators don’t have consistent, credible press telling their stories—how they work, why they chose this path, how they contribute economically—someone else gets to define them. And that definition doesn’t need to be accurate. It just needs to be emotionally satisfying to a certain audience.

“Sin tax” is a brilliant phrase if your goal is outrage. It collapses nuance. It bypasses economics. It turns labor into morality theater.

Joseph’s frustration suddenly made perfect sense.

If the only time the public hears about creators is during scandals, viral stunts, or political attacks, then of course caricatures win. Of course someone like Fishback can float a 50% tax and estimate “hundreds of millions” in revenue without being laughed out of the room. Silence creates opportunity—for the wrong voices.

The Reality Politicians Ignore

What this proposal conveniently skips is reality. Most OnlyFans creators are not pulling seven figures. Many are supplementing income. Many are supporting families. Many are doing exactly what policymakers claim to value: working independently, building businesses, paying taxes, and staying off public assistance. A 50% state tax isn’t regulation. It’s confiscation.

And it wouldn’t “protect” anyone. It would push creators out of Florida, underground, or into riskier situations. It would also set a precedent: if a job is unpopular enough, it’s fair game.

Today it’s adult creators. Tomorrow it’s influencers. Then it’s streamers. Then it’s freelancers in any controversial vertical.

Once labor becomes moralized, taxation stops being about revenue and starts being about control.

Why Press Is the Missing Infrastructure

This is where Only Fans Insider Magazine comes back into the conversation.

Joseph wasn’t exaggerating when he said this is exactly why we exist.

Weeks after the magazine launched, he was at the AASECT Conference in Las Vegas—talking with clinicians, educators, and researchers on the sexuality and mental-health side of the industry. One of the recurring themes? What happens when an industry has no mainstream press? It doesn’t self-regulate through conversation.

It escalates through spectacle.

When the only path to visibility is shock, people chase shock. When the only narratives available are extreme ones, those become the reference points. And then politicians point at those extremes and say, “See? This is what they are.”

Dedicated press changes that equation.

It gives creators a way to be seen without being sensationalized. It gives the public context instead of caricature. It gives policymakers fewer excuses to legislate based on ignorance. Hollywood figured this out decades ago. Celebrities don’t rely on stunts forever. They rely on press. Interviews. Profiles. Narrative control. Even the most controversial figures eventually learn that controlled storytelling outperforms chaos.

Creators deserve the same tools.

Ryder’s Closing Thought

A 50% “sin tax” isn’t about economics. It’s about who gets to define whose work has value.

When creators don’t tell their own stories, someone else will—and they won’t be kind.

This industry doesn’t need to shout louder. It needs to speak more clearly. It needs infrastructure, visibility, and press that treats creators as workers, not punchlines.

Because the more space we leave empty, the easier it is for bad ideas to sound like policy.

-Ryder Vale, staff writer and journalist