BaseTube is still in beta, and before we open it to more creators, a few parts of the platform need to be solid: uploading, media delivery, search, content management, and analytics.
Over the past few weeks, we shipped major improvements across all five.
Creators already have platforms for discovery. YouTube, TikTok, Instagram and others are very good at distributing attention.
What creators have much less control over is what happens after that attention exists: where their content lives, what they know about their audience, how they monetize it, and how much of that relationship they actually own.
That is the layer we are building BaseTube around.
Before we can build deeper monetization and audience tools on top, the underlying video platform has to be reliable enough to support them.
This month moved us significantly closer.
Uploads are now faster, resumable, and much harder to break
Video uploads no longer pass through the BaseTube application servers.
Files now upload directly from the browser in resumable chunks, so an interrupted connection does not mean starting again from zero. Close the tab, lose Wi-Fi, or come back later and the upload can continue from where it stopped.
Creators can also queue multiple videos at once from Content Studio and continue working while files upload and process.
Behind the scenes, upload, inspection, transcoding, indexing and cleanup are handled independently. That gives us a cleaner processing pipeline and more room to scale without tying video processing to the web application itself.
The current upload path uses Cloudflare R2 as a fast ingestion layer, while completed video assets continue to be transferred into Storj, which remains BaseTube’s long-term storage layer.
We also avoid transcoding files unnecessarily. If a video is already in a format browsers can reliably play, BaseTube can publish it without sending it through a full encoding cycle.
For most standard MP4 uploads, that means much faster publishing.
A 1.5 GB video was one of our test cases, not the system limit.
Search is now instant
BaseTube search now runs on Meilisearch.
Search supports typo tolerance, highlighted matches, category and duration filters, synonyms, and suggestions while typing.
A search for marakech, for example, can still find Marrakech.
Newly published videos are indexed within seconds instead of waiting for a scheduled job.
We have also kept a database fallback behind the search layer. If the search service becomes unavailable, BaseTube can continue returning results in degraded mode rather than simply failing.
For creators with hundreds or thousands of videos, search is not cosmetic. It is part of how the catalogue remains usable over time.
Faster media delivery
Thumbnails, posters and other frequently requested media assets can now be cached and served closer to the viewer instead of every request travelling back to the original storage layer.
The result is faster and more predictable page loading, particularly for audiences farther from the underlying infrastructure.
This is a delivery optimisation, not a storage migration. Storj remains the durable storage layer for completed video assets.
Content Studio is becoming a proper creator workspace
A large part of the work this month also went into making the Creator Hub more useful day to day.
Video management now includes inline Public/Private controls, undo support, bulk actions, search, filtering and sorting.
Those filters live in the URL, so a specific working view can be bookmarked or shared.
The editing experience is also tighter, with ⌘S saving, protection against leaving with unsaved changes, and a more compact interface.
We have also continued integrating AI where it removes repetitive work rather than simply adding AI for the sake of it.
AI-generated descriptions now produce properly structured video copy instead of generic text blocks, and AI thumbnail generation is integrated directly into the Creator Hub with its own quota system.
Individually, these are small improvements.
Together, they are starting to turn Content Studio from an administration page into the workspace we eventually want creators operating from.
Analytics built around data we can actually measure
Creator analytics received some of the most important work this month.
Our rule is simple:
If BaseTube cannot measure something reliably, we would rather not show it than display a precise-looking number we cannot defend.
Watch time is now based on time actually played.
Playback is measured using regular heartbeats, with additional events when a viewer pauses, closes the page or leaves the tab. Scrubbing through a video does not count as watch time, and mobile playback is now captured correctly.
Average percentage watched is calculated per view. Engagement cards use real period totals. Trend comparisons now compare equivalent windows.
And when data cannot be loaded reliably, the dashboard shows an error state instead of quietly presenting a zero.
This foundation also changes what we can do with AI Insights.
The goal is not to generate generic advice such as “make better thumbnails.”
AI Insights can analyse a creator’s own catalogue across titles, thumbnails and positioning, identify gaps tied to specific videos, prioritise changes and provide per-video observations.
Creators can also compare their channel positioning against the wider YouTube niche using a simple structure:
They do. You do. Try next.
Performance-based conclusions only appear when there is enough actual viewing data to support them.
Any numerical claim shown by the AI has to be traceable back to the underlying analytics.
AI is very good at producing confident explanations. That does not mean those explanations should automatically appear inside a creator analytics product.
Why we’re building these foundations
It would be easy to look at this release as uploads, search, delivery, and dashboards.
For us, these are prerequisites.
BaseTube is being built around a broader idea: creators should be able to convert attention they generate elsewhere into a relationship they control directly.
That means knowing who supports their work.
Knowing what those people watch.
Being able to sell access to content.
Understanding what converts.
Communicating directly with the audience around that content.
And having more control over the economics of that relationship.
Content Passes are already one part of that model.
The creator and audience tooling around them is where much of the next phase of BaseTube is heading.
Before those layers become genuinely valuable, BaseTube has to be able to ingest content reliably, organise it, deliver it globally and measure what happens around it accurately.
That is what August was largely about.
There is still a lot to build.
But the difference between the BaseTube beta at the beginning of August and the platform today is substantial.
The foundations are getting into place.
Now we can increasingly focus on what we wanted to build on top of them in the first place.
BaseTube is currently available in beta at beta.base.tube.
Short version: YouTube’s creator revenue share hasn’t moved since 2013. Creator revenue per view has fallen by as much as 63% in real terms since 2018 once today’s Shorts-heavy mix is included, and by about 14% for long-form alone. Almost every mechanism behind that decline was decided somewhere a creator has no vote. Here are the numbers, where they come from, and what to do with them.
On 10 August 2026, YouTube doubled the bar to join the Partner Program: 8,000 watch hours instead of 4,000, or 20 million Shorts views instead of 10 million. From February 2027, sharing in Shorts ad revenue will require 10 million qualified Shorts views every 90 days. Three days earlier, X shut its Ads Revenue Sharing programme and replaced it with a rewards formula that publishes no percentage.
Most creators read both moves as another squeeze. The word is right and the target is off. YouTube’s headline split, 55% to the creator on long-form ads, has stayed put for thirteen years. Everything the split is applied to has moved, and every one of those moves was made without asking you. That is the story of the last decade in creator economics, and it explains why “they took a bigger cut” keeps feeling true while the contract says otherwise.
Key takeaways
In 2016 a creator needed roughly 44 million views a year to earn $100,000. In 2026, for the same purchasing power and a realistic mix of Shorts and long-form, the figure is about 141 million. Three times the attention for the same living.
YouTube’s 55/45 revenue share is unchanged since 2013. Ten years of disclosures show no sign of the platform taking a bigger cut.
Four things did the damage under the share: format mix, falling ad prices, inflation, and creator oversupply. Three are outside a creator’s control. The fourth, format mix, is increasingly shaped by the platform’s distribution incentives.
On the best available estimates, YouTube’s advertising revenue per viewer rose roughly 2.6× over the same period. The platform earns on volume. You earn on price per view. Only one of those went up.
Per-view income is structurally declining. The lines that are growing route around the ad auction entirely: sponsorship, affiliate, and direct payments from fans.
The number that summarises the decade
Take a creator earning $100,000 in 2016 from YouTube ads alone. To keep the same standard of living in 2026 they need about $139,000, because US consumer prices rose 39% over the period (BLS CPI-U, 2016 annual average to July 2026). How many views does that take?
Long-form only, the requirement rose about 36%. With the platform-average format mix, it roughly tripled.
Two things to notice. If you only make long-form video, the picture is somewhat worse within a wide band: about 60 million views against 44 million, and the documented ranges overlap. Once your view mix looks like the platform average, where Shorts are now 61% of measured views, the requirement roughly triples. Nobody lowered a rate to get there. The composition of what you upload changed, and the price of a Short was set at a level you never saw negotiated.
A million long-form views in 2026 pays roughly what it did in 2016 in nominal dollars, around $2,000 to $2,500 at the centre of the distribution, and about 27% less in real terms. A million Shorts views pays $150 to $300.
Long-form creator: 44M → ~60M views. Platform-average mix: 44M → ~141M views. Which of those two lines is yours depends on what you upload, and increasingly on what the feed rewards you for uploading.
What this article is not saying
That YouTube quietly reduced the 55% share. It didn’t.
That every creator earns 63% less. Long-form-only channels are down about 14% in real terms; the 63% figure assumes the platform’s Shorts-heavy mix.
That Shorts are bad. They pay on a different scale, and that scale was set without you.
That creators should leave YouTube. Nothing below argues that.
That YouTube is uniquely hard on creators. Next to Meta, TikTok and X, its published economics are unusually good, and that is part of the point.
The share didn’t move. It didn’t need to.
Same 55%. The pie it is cut from has been redefined four times since 2020.
The contractual long-form advertising split has been 55% creator, 45% YouTube since it was standardised in 2013. Google’s own business-model document states it; YouTube reaffirmed it in February 2025. Every credible attempt to back out the effective payout share from YouTube’s rolling disclosures (“over $30bn in three years”, “over $70bn”, “over $100bn in four years”) lands in a 51% to 64% band around 55%, with no downward trend that survives the estimation error.
Across the whole decade there are exactly two places the share itself got worse, and both are narrow. Since November 2020, YouTube can run ads on videos from channels below the Partner threshold at a 0% creator share. And music licensing comes out of the Shorts pool before the creator’s 45% is applied. Neither comes close to explaining a decline of this size.
What did get rewritten, repeatedly, is the base the percentage applies to. Shorts pay 45% of a pool that has already had music deducted. From February 2027, YouTube Premium will pay creators from a pool equal to 30% of net subscription revenue, split 55/45 by format, which works out to roughly 16.5 cents of a long-form Premium dollar. Shopping affiliate is a split of a merchant commission whose median is 15%. Sub-threshold inventory pays zero. Four new bases in six years, each with a less favourable formula than the original, each announced rather than negotiated. The headline percentage survives every one of them, which is precisely why it survives.
Four things moved under the share. You control almost none of them.
1. Format mix
Shorts went from 30 billion daily views in 2022 to 200 billion in 2026. They now supply 61% of measured YouTube views (Metricool, 800,000 videos, 71,000 accounts) at 3% to 14% of the long-form rate. AIR Media-Tech’s 2026 data across 300 channels puts median long-form RPM near $2.30 and US Shorts RPM at $0.33; you need 11,000 to 34,000 Shorts views to match 1,000 long-form views. Blend a very-high-view, very-low-rate surface into your average and per-view income falls while long-form rates stand still.
The substitution is real, too. A study of 250 channels with 100,000+ subscribers found long-form views fell by a mean of about 740,000 per channel after the channel’s first Short. The average length of YouTube’s most popular videos compressed from around 35 to 28 minutes, and algorithm-suggested video length halved from 80 to 40 minutes. Ad breaks scale with duration; shorter videos carry fewer of them. The feed decided which format grows and what it pays. Your lever: which format you feed it.
2. Ad prices
Alphabet’s own filings show cost-per-click falling every year from 2015 to 2020. On the buy side, YouTube CPMs fell 16% to 23% in three of the last four fourth quarters. The Q4 2025 figures are unusually clear: YouTube ad impressions grew 38% while advertiser spend on YouTube grew 13%. Arithmetically that is an 18% CPM decline. A publisher put it plainly back in 2020: “We’re creating inventory faster than they can fill it.”
On a channel it looks like this. Across the same panel of creators, average views per post rose from 3,405 to 5,985 between February 2025 and February 2026, while monetised playbacks per post fell from 576 to 238. More attention, fewer paid events per unit of attention. Your lever on the auction clearing price: none.
3. Inflation
US CPI-U rose 39.1% from the 2016 annual average to July 2026. A creator whose nominal RPM never moved lost 28% of purchasing power per thousand views without a single policy changing. Long-form nominal rates are roughly flat across the decade, and flat is a cut. Nobody indexes a revenue share to CPI. Your lever: none.
4. Supply
Uploads went from 300 hours a minute in 2014 to over 20 million videos a day in 2026. Goldman Sachs counts roughly 50 million creators globally, growing 10% to 20% a year, with the professional share stuck near 4%. A steady professional share inside a growing population means more professionals exist and the odds of becoming one stay flat. Survey data agrees: 56.55% of full-time creators now earn below a living wage, up from 48% in the previous wave (NeoReach, 3,000+ creators). Your lever on how many people upload tomorrow: none.
Meanwhile, the platform’s side of the ledger
The platform earns on volume. You earn on price per view. Only one of those went up.
Impressions grew 38% in Q4 2025. Advertiser spend grew 13%. The auction did the rest.
YouTube advertising revenue went from $11.2bn in 2018 to $40.4bn in 2025, and total YouTube revenue including subscriptions passed $60bn. Using viewers as the denominator, because that is the one quantity both sides actually report, platform ad revenue per viewer rose about 2.6× between 2018 and 2026 on the best available estimates (the 2018 endpoint is reported; the 2026 endpoint uses a viewer forecast and an estimated ad revenue figure). Indexed to 2018:
Series
2018
2026
Change
YouTube advertising revenue
100
403
+303%
Platform ad revenue per viewer
100
262
+162%
Creator long-form RPM, nominal
100
115
+15%
Creator long-form RPM, real 2016 $
100
86
−14%
Creator blended RPM incl. Shorts, real 2016 $
100
37
−63%
Platform and creator earnings per unit of attention, indexed to 2018. Creator series use a central RPM path built from disclosed creator data; see methodology note.
Nobody at YouTube had to decide to pay creators less. Revenue sharing on auction-priced, supply-elastic inventory does it on its own: the platform’s revenue grows with impression volume, the creator’s revenue depends on price per impression, and volume has outrun demand every year. All of the price risk sits with the creator, all of the volume gain sits with the platform, and the contract reads the same on both days. A creator who owned any part of the terms would have priced that risk. A creator who rents the terms absorbs it.
The best landlord in the market is still a landlord
The walls belong to the platform. The people around the desk don’t.
YouTube publishes more than anyone else, and by a distance. Meta paid creators “nearly $3 billion” in 2025 against $196bn of ad revenue, about 1.5%. TikTok has never published a percentage for organic content. Meta ended three named revenue-share products on a single day in August 2025 and moved to flat guarantees. X launched revenue sharing in 2023, pivoted it twice, and closed it on 7 August 2026 with about a month’s notice. Of the four large ad-funded platforms, only Twitch publishes an explicit contractual creator percentage today.
Off the ad platforms: Patreon’s standard fee is 10% for pages created since August 2025 (the 8% tier is grandfathered), Substack is 10%, Ko-fi is 0% to 5%.
The lesson is smaller than “stay on YouTube” and larger than “leave it.” No ad platform prices your relationship with the people who watch you. They price impressions, and they reserve the right to reprice them, redefine them, or stop paying for them, on their calendar. A published 55% beats an unpublished formula every day of the week. It still describes a rental agreement.
Stop optimising a deal you don’t control
These follow from the mechanisms, not from drawing a trend line into the future.
The revenue lines growing fastest sit outside the auction. Over half of Partner Program channels earning five figures or more in 2024 earned from non-ad sources. Sponsored videos grew 54% year on year in the first half of 2025, led by creators averaging 100k to 500k views. Direct fan payments, affiliate and brand deals never pass through the CPM mechanism. They price the relationship, and the relationship is the one number in this article that didn’t shrink.
Treat per-view ad income as structurally declining. More supply, cheaper-to-make short content, inventory outgrowing demand: each of these feeds the others. Views up 76% and monetised playbacks down 59% on the same channels is what that looks like on a dashboard.
Watch-time depth is the defensible asset, not view count. Long-form carries the ad slots, the Premium skew, and the sponsorship inventory. In one dataset a 120-minute video earned on average 100× a 20-minute one. The algorithm has moved against length, so this is a positioning choice made against the platform’s distribution incentives.
Price contractual clarity as a feature. Any income line that depends on an unpublished, revocable formula deserves a discount that a published 55% does not. Meta’s overnight shutdowns and X’s one-month notice show what “formula” means in practice.
Watch access, not share. The last three years are unchanged percentages plus rising thresholds. Model eligibility risk at least as carefully as rate risk, because that is where the August 2026 changes actually landed.
The one asset that isn’t denominated in views
The report behind this article tests two hypotheses. The first, that platforms deliberately compressed creator value, fails on the evidence. The second, that creators went from scarce partners to abundant suppliers, holds for generic attention and fails for identifiable audiences: platforms are visibly bidding for named talent, and mid-tier sponsorship demand is growing fastest. The market split in two. Undifferentiated views became a commodity priced by an auction you don’t attend. A group of people who chose you, and would find you again if the feed forgot you tomorrow, became more valuable, and it sits outside every table above.
Most creators already own that second thing. Very few hold it on terms they set. The ad share can’t be renegotiated by you, the format mix can’t be voted on, and the eligibility bar moves when the platform says it moves. Asking the people who chose you, directly, once, on terms you publish and keep, is the only version of this business where the contract stops changing underneath you.
Put the whole decade in one line: attention you rent is getting cheaper. Relationships you own are getting more valuable.
So the practical conclusion is narrower than “leave” and bigger than “diversify.” YouTube is an extraordinary distribution machine, and by the numbers above it is the most generous one in the market. Use it for distribution. Then treat the relationship that distribution creates as an asset you control, with terms you wrote, on a page you can’t be evicted from. Distribution and ownership are two different things, and the last ten years are what happens when creators run their whole business on the first one.
That second thing is what we build. Base.Tube’s Content Pass lets your fans buy access once and keep it, and pays you 90% at the moment of purchase, on terms that are written down and don’t move. It sits alongside your channel; the channel keeps doing the distribution. If the numbers in this piece describe yours, that is the part of the business worth owning first.
Methodology note
YouTube has never published RPM or CPM data, and the RPM metric itself only appeared in YouTube Studio in July 2020, so no primary per-view series exists. Revenue-share terms, thresholds, Alphabet financials and CPI are primary sources. Creator per-view figures are drawn from disclosed creator data (Business Insider creator interviews 2020 and 2022, AIR Media-Tech’s 300-channel 2026 study, Metricool’s 2026 format study, r/PartneredYoutube retrospectives). The “central RPM path” used for the 44M/141M and indexed figures is a midpoint of the documented range for each year ($2.25 in 2016, $2.00 in 2018, $2.60 in 2020, $3.50 in 2022, $2.80 in 2024, $2.30 in 2026) and is an assumption made to permit the arithmetic; the conclusions about direction and mechanism rest on reported data and are considerably more robust than any point estimate. Full source list on request.
