Crossing the Line: The Repeater Books Controversy and the Fight for Solidarity

Is it closing time for Repeater Books?

While preparing for a late afternoon hike in early November 2023, my thoughts swarmed—not only with my impending trip to London to promote Acid Horizon’s first book, Anti-Oculus: A Philosophy of Escape, but with harrowing images of the escalating genocide of Palestinians. Like many others, I found that Israel’s US-backed brutality compounded a pervasive solastalgia, the slow erosion of the world as we once knew it. Genocide, pandemics, class war, race riots, climate catastrophe, nuclear brinksmanship, environmental collapse—our slow crawl toward the precipice, punctuated by moments of cataclysm, has deepened a collective malaise, one that our familiar comforts can no longer alleviate.

I had scarcely cleared the trailhead when my phone rang. A WhatsApp call came through from an unfamiliar number, though I seldom use the app. As an avid call-screener, I was inclined to ignore it—and I almost wish I had. But caught in a buoyant fall mood, I let the stranger in.

The caller was Watkins Media CEO Etan Ilfield, and his voice was tense and indignant. He said that someone at Repeater Books, one of Watkins' left-wing imprints, had signed a solidarity statement with Publishers for Palestine—a collective declaration uniting international publishers and literary professionals in calling for a ceasefire, accountability for war crimes, and other urgent actions.

At the time, I worked as a vendor for Zer0 Books and Repeater Books, overseeing the programming and production of video essays and various interviews for their YouTube channel. However, I was not an employee in the conventional sense, and my knowledge of internal or administrative decisions was often limited. As such, I had no knowledge of the solidarity statement at the time of the call.

Despite my inability to confirm anything about the statement, Ilfield pressed on, insisting that support for it be withdrawn. He also subjected me to a questioning of my political bona fides during the call, placing me in an uncomfortable and untenable position.

I was caught between shock at Ilfield’s audacity and my growing anger at the unfolding catastrophe in Palestine. As the conversation continued, I could no longer hold back. I made it clear that Israel, like the United States, is an imperialist settler-colonial entity deserving unequivocal condemnation.

Ilfield’s expressed desire to override support for the solidarity statement was echoed in a company meeting in the following days, a fact I was able to confirm with former Repeater staff. Moreover, in a subsequent interaction with Repeater’s co-founder and former editor-in-chief, Tariq Goddard, I learned that Ilfield had demanded the removal of the imprints as signatories three days prior to my exchange with the CEO. Despite Ilfield’s opposition, many of us believed that Repeater’s authors and staff—true to its independent political stance—had every right to express their views, as was the imprint’s raison d’être. Honestly, I’m still amazed that everything didn’t fall apart for me that day. Keeping my job gave me the slightest hope that a favorable resolution might still emerge—one that stayed true to the values the imprint was built on.

Goddard’s Departure and the Beginning of the End

In the days that followed, Zer0 Books and Repeater Books were removed from the solidarity statement, despite objections from Goddard and his team. Given Acid Horizon’s close association with both imprints—as well as most presenters on the channel—our collective and extended community felt it was essential to sign in solidarity to address Zer0 and Repeater’s absence. I reached out to Publishers for Palestine and they happily obliged to register our support.

But this did not remedy anything. Amid the fallout, other fractures began to surface. Tariq Goddard’s departure from Zer0 Books and Repeater Books in July 2024 was announced with a carefully worded farewell statement, offering no clear explanation for his exit. While the official line framed his departure as a personal decision to focus on writing, the circumstances surrounding it suggested deeper tensions with ownership. Whatever the exact nature of the dispute, Goddard’s unusual departure marked a definitive break from the imprint he had not only co-founded but repeatedly rebuilt through successive struggles. It also became obvious that something like a fight for the future of the imprints was at stake, which was settled for one side decisively with Goddard’s departure.

The five of swords and the six of swords from The Philosopher’s Tarot by Sereptie (Repeater Books, 2022)

Cast against his unwavering commitment to his vision and the relentless drive he maintained throughout the third iteration of Zer0/Repeater, Goddard’s exit warrants a closer examination—not just for what it reveals about internal struggles, but for what it suggests about the future that was ultimately chosen for the imprint in his absence. After the co-founder’s departure, remaining staff and authors received conflicting accounts regarding Zer0 and Repeater’s future. At various points, internal communications suggested that closure was a possibility, yet no definitive explanations were provided. Internally, narratives about the imprints' trajectory were inconsistent and, at times, contradictory, leading to persistent ambiguity. It was stated that all existing contracts would be honored, though the outlook for one or both imprints remained unclear. In short, bound by an unofficial imposition of confidentiality, we were unable to address the pervasive uncertainty and ambiguity we all endured. At times, it all felt like deliberate obfuscation—like we were being gaslit.

Who Carries Water for Watkins? Interrogating Tutt’s Position in the Fallout

A recent Substack post by Repeater author Daniel Tutt—who will remain the focus for most of the rest of this piece—presents a series of claims about the status and economic viability of the imprints, including a definitive statement about the imprint’s current suspension of commissions. However, in doing so, it raises serious questions—not only about the affair itself but also about Tutt’s position in it.

In the piece, Tutt writes,

“…Repeater Books has recently suspended commissions as it assesses the future viability of the imprint. According to my conversation with the current owner of the press, Repeater has accrued losses of approximately £200,000 annually in recent years.”

Given the upheaval at the imprints, this raises three pressing questions. First, why was Tutt made privy to alleged financial information, and under what circumstances was he permitted to publish these claims? Second, why were other authors working at the company held to strict confidentiality standards that barred us from sharing any information about the imprints’ status, while Tutt was apparently exempt from such restrictions? And third, if these figures are accurate and consequential in any manner, why didn’t Ilfield report them in the trade press?

When I approached Goddard about the claims in Tutt’s post, he declined to comment, noting that whether the disclosure was accurate or not, it was a legally sensitive matter—one that could potentially implicate Tutt in a breach of Goddard’s leaving agreement from Watkins.

an excerpt from Tutt’s “A New Direction: For a Left Beyond Censorship and Control”

In any case, Tutt’s statements not only prompt us to reexamine the broader narrative of turmoil at the imprints but also compels us to question the nature of his own grievances—grievances that perhaps led him into correspondence with the very CEO who, in our phone call and subsequent meetings, insisted Repeater withdraw its support for Publishers for Palestine.

Crossing the Line: How Tutt Favored the Ownership Over the Resistance

What does it mean to push through a line of resistance—not out of conviction, but to advance a personal or professional agenda? Tutt, to be clear, was made aware of the Publishers for Palestine solidarity statement, the consequences of its removal, and the deeper fallout it triggered. Yet rather than simply standing with those who resisted this erasure, he entered into a dialogue with the very CEO who urged the removal of our support. He engaged with ownership to discuss his own concerns, navigating around known worker struggles at Repeater in a way that some perceived as advancing his own position.

The rest of this piece examines Tutt’s own case to dismantle the narrative he is attempting to construct—one in which the decline of Zer0/Repeater is attributed to a particular tendency of left-wing thought and the supposed censorial practices of its adherents. What this piece will demonstrate, however, is that Tutt prioritized his personal grievances over a real internal struggle—one that involved a far more consequential act of censorship.

Debate and Delete

Many in the online theory and philosophy community are familiar with Tutt’s grudges—not only against Repeater Books but also against Acid Horizon and its surrounding community. Upon its release, Tutt’s book with Repeater faced sharp criticism for attributional errors, which Devin Gouré of the Moral Minority podcast thoroughly documented.

Gouré’s response triggered tensions to run high online, but Repeater proposed settling things the old-fashioned way. The imprint reached out to Gouré and Tutt, who both agreed to a debate Tutt’s book on Nietzsche, with various members of Acid Horizon members set to take positions on either side for a richer discussion.

However, the debate never materialized, as Tutt later characterized criticisms as a coordinated effort, linking Gouré’s independent analysis with what he perceived as Acid Horizon’s involvement—not to mention the jabs of random actors. For instance, as barbs were exchanged on social media, a Twitter user posted the hashtag #FireDanielTutt, which Gouré promptly condemned. I concurred with Gouré’s response in a private message to him, as I also believe that targeting someone's employment or livelihood in intra-left disputes should, in almost all cases, remain off-limits.

Nevertheless, Tutt escalated matters, sending inflammatory emails to Repeater staff. While we had disagreements with Tutt, our intent was never sabotage—on the contrary, as stakeholders in the success of Repeater, we believed his book could be a strong title in Repeater’s catalog with the right exposure. This isn’t to say we liked it, but since Tutt seemed to generally favor debate, we felt giving him his druthers might help clear the air.

Tutt was likely one of the few—if not the only—authors offered multiple appearances to promote their print publication on the Zer0/Repeater YouTube channel during my time there. A presenter conducted his initial interview for his book while I handled production and publishing. In the interim before the debate, the accommodations extended further—when Tutt requested stronger censorship and moderation of ad hominem attacks in the comments, I willingly complied.

However, in the ensuing weeks and amid online tensions, Tutt sent Repeater an emphatic email abruptly withdrawing from the proposed debate. Appearing increasingly fixated on the dispute, he took on the role of an inquisitor, eventually questioning the leftist credentials of imprint staff via email and seeking concessions to address his grievances.

Class Focus and The Curious Case of the Vanishing Deleuzians

Tutt suggests in various places that Repeater Books' ideological trajectory was a fatal misstep, arguing that its embrace of certain theoretical trends has attended to the imprint’s downfall. In his blog, Tutt writes that Repeater Books is emblematic of a problematic position in contemporary left-wing politics. The imprint’s alleged contradictions underscore a key tension on the left—between class-first Marxism and Deleuzian left-liberalism—that must be actively confronted and tested through open intellectual engagement rather than censorial control. But this thesis and many of the claims attached to it don’t hold up to a broader scrutiny. For example, the notion that Repeater Books, as an entity, has functioned as an avatar of a censorial “Deleuzian left liberalism”—a recurring specter in Tutt’s personal pantheon of ideological foes, one set against a more class-oriented Marxism—is patently absurd. Indeed, such a claim is not only misleading but also likely an affront to the many predominantly Marxist authors whom Repeater has supported in recent years. To even entertain seriously this supposed Manichean split is to buy into a both a false conceptual dichotomy and a material lie, a notion that serves only to sow division on the left.

A more accurate picture of Repeater’s orientation during my tenure could be found in the conceptual framework shared by its many authors and presenters. Class struggle and class war were not marginal themes, but dominant threads woven into many book titles and videos on the channel. Many authors and presenters—including myself—were deeply invested in the issue of class, especially as we navigated precarious incomes, with some of us managing slightly better depending on our respective support networks. In an email forwarded to the imprint, Tutt has directly accused Acid Horizon of erasing class from the conversation—but as evidenced by our popular podcast series and various publications, our engagement with class has been both direct and nuanced. One only needs to look at our book Anti-Oculus, which demonstrates how class issues are intricately woven into the fabric of surveillance institutions and biopolitical apparatues. Beyond that, our many conversations with thinkers like Jason Read, Patrick Eiden-Offe, Jacob Bluemfeld, Tommy Sissons, John Medhurst, Jon Greenaway, Billie Cashmore, and others further illustrate this complexity. Moreover, Acid Horizon has ensured most of these discussions on class reached their widest audience by publishing them on Zer0/Repeater, where they could have the greatest impact.

One way to perhaps quantify any perceived ideological disparity is to examine the content published on the Zer0/Repeater YouTube channel after the two imprints were merged in late 2021. Among the videos posted from December 2021 onward, seventeen featured the word “Marxism” in the title, while—wait for it—not even one contained the words “Deleuze” or “Deleuzian.” Not one fuckin’ video on a channel with more than 90,000+ subscribers. The last time Deleuze’s name appeared in a title on the channel was during Doug Lain’s tenure, when he published four videos explicitly mentioning Deleuze.

The Hierophant (Karl Marx) and The Hermit (Gilles Deleuze) from The Philosopher’s Tarot by Sereptie (Repeater Books, 2022)

This trend extends to Tutt’s own contributions. One of the videos on Marxism in the post-merger era was Tutt’s own work. In fact, he was given the latitude to create an entire series titled “The Lacanian Left”, in which Tutt interviewed fellow Lacanians on the intersection of psychoanalysis and Marxism. Notably, Tutt was also the very first solicited contributor to the channel after the 2021 takeover, debuting with an interview featuring Jules Taylor on Domenico Losurdo’s work on Nietzsche. Far from being an exclusionary ideological space, Repeater actively paid various contributors like Tutt to produce exclusive videos, aiming to foster a broad tent of left-wing perspectives. While many of the presenters and others involved disagreed with aspects of Tutt’s position, we nonetheless remained committed to this inclusive model.

If Deleuzian thought had truly held such an imperious and pervasive influence over Repeater, one would expect the imprint’s Deleuzian faction to push their agenda more explicitly in the press’s most public-facing venue. So, tell me—how did the Deleuzians manage to pull off this act of subterfuge against the Marxists?

In the end, Tutt seems to conflate the research interests of a diminutive number of Repeater staff with the truly nonsectarian ethos at Zer0/Repeater, a disposition that was clearly reflected in the general approach to curating the YouTube channel. And if it were true that imprints suffered because of pronounced ideological bent, we should take seriously the fact that a focus on Marxism in the raw might be among the culprits responsible for the imprints’ alleged financial woes. But all of this is utterly ridiculous—and dare I say, it verges on ‘idealist,’ considering a more determinative set of dynamics at the imprints.

Political Publishing is Political—And That’s the Point

One of the reasons I have recounted these details is that Acid Horizon has repeatedly been the target of Tutt’s accusations of censorship. When it comes to Tutt’s own contributions to Repeater, nothing could be further from the truth. In Tutt’s most recent screed (detailing his exchange with Ilfield), he takes aim at the supposedly censorious hand of “Deleuzian left liberals” at Repeater Books.

As an avid researcher of Deleuze and Guattari (and perhaps at one time the closest thing to a resident Deleuzian at Repeater), perhaps a few words about my own former editorial privileges are in order: during my time at Zer0/Repeater, I served as the creative director and head of programming for the YouTube channel, a role that gave me broad discretion to feature nearly any video essay or interview I felt aligned with the channel’s direction. My programming decisions evolved in response to shifting trends, priorities, and the imprint’s broader goals, but ultimately, I always had the final say on what was published on the YouTube channel (however, this privilege did not extend to any print publications). I’ve turned down a few videos—sometimes due to budget considerations, but occasionally because they didn’t match a trend we were developing or, to be frank, on a rare occasion, they didn’t align with the political values many of us presenters were committed to featuring on the platform. In the end, it was a mixture of these factors.

I also faced some pushback from media personalities adjacent to Tutt and who broadly share his political outlook for deactivating nearly all the videos produced during the Doug Lain era of Zer0 Books—but this decision had nothing to do with censorship. The primary reason was that after a few months some of Lain’s videos had begun receiving retroactive copyright strikes and content claims for works containing proprietary footage or music. These intermittent violations put the entire channel at risk. This is common for YouTubers resourcing work with vague usage rights, as YouTube’s Content ID crawlers lag behind newly restricted material. In any event, Lain’s videos were not deleted—they remain intact but unpublished to safeguard the channel. Plus, no longer having to moderate the abysmal comments directed at Lain on the old videos was an absolute relief. For better or worse, I have inadvertently ended up preserving Lain’s archive rather than letting it evaporate. As I am no longer with Zer0/Repeater, I can’t say if any successor has followed suit in maintaining Lain’s archive.

I have no regrets about removing the old content or rejecting proposed submissions. As Repeater alumnus Mattie Colquhoun, a.k.a. Xenogothic, aptly puts it, “Political publishing is political.” It would be bad faith on my part to cling to some vacuous notion of political neutrality when that was never the mission of the imprints to begin with. Hell—that’s exactly why I am writing this! Anyway, had even a commissioned author proposed a video that blatantly violated my set standards or those shared by our presenters, I wouldn’t have published it. Fortunately, no such material ever crossed my desk during my tenure. Setting my role aside, it’s important to note that Zer0/Repeater’s creative and administrative apparatus did not mirror Acid Horizon’s distinct values and interests. Like all successful left-wing publishers, the imprint had individual authors from all over the left and was in service of no one orthodoxy.

From Platformed to Perfidious

Daniel Tutt’s censorship allegations are a brazen distortion, given the substantial access he was granted to a platform managed in my stead. I never expected the privilege to be reciprocated, but it’s remarkable that no one from the Acid Horizon podcast or the broader collective was ever invited to Tutt’s media channels. The appalling ingratitude of it all, however, is secondary to what many of us feel was a betrayal of our solidarity.

The two of cups and the three of cups from The Philosopher’s Tarot by Sereptie (Repeater Books, 2022)

Amid Goddard’s departure from the imprint, several of us worked to bring authors up to speed on key developments—most notably, the conspicuous disappearance of the imprints from the solidarity statement. Almost every Zer0 and Repeater author who learned of this was immediately dismayed. Tutt, however, seemed to see it differently. When he became aware of what had transpired with the statement and the surrounding events, he seized upon the wreckage of what he saw as a “left Nietzschean” publishing outfit that had, in his mind, mishandled the promotion of his book. According to former imprint staff, despite the multiple attempts to explain to Tutt the stakes involved, it seemed he remained fixated on a factional struggle, a framing that continues to define his recent writings on the matter.

Moreover, despite Tutt’s “aww shucks” persona online, the version of him I encountered in numerous debriefs came across as calculating, self-serving, and eager to escalate internal disputes among those involved with the imprint. On social media he has hedged at various points on his disposition towards Acid Horizon and Xenogothic; however, his opinions were clearer in behind-the-scenes maneuvering and messaging, as was evident in email correspondences which called me to account. I’ve often joked about “the Marxist who calls your boss,” a nod to Tutt’s relentless probing that often had me fielding accusations in early morning meetings. But things took a more serious turn when it came to light that he discussed internal matters with the CEO. The question remains: why did Tutt correspond with Ilfield more than a year after the initial complaints he made about the treatment of his book?

A January 2025 online dust-up began with Tutt criticizing a shitpost from the Acid Horizon account but quickly spiraled into a broader clash involving the usual combatants. Amid the chaos, Tutt notably gestured to Repeater’s initial support for Palestine and the events that ensued. However, while also signaling his ongoing grievances, he renewed efforts to probe past and present Repeater staff. According to Xenogothic, Tutt allegedly lobbied the imprints to pressure them into retracting critical tweets. Xenogothic (often mistaken for Acid Horizon) was quick to highlight this move as ironic, raising questions about Tutt’s selective understanding of censorship. Perhaps his skewed sense of criticism explains why he has also framed Acid Horizon and Xenogothic’s past denunciations of various media entities that had been friendly with Tutt as acts of suppression rather than engagement. In any case, the episode in view was the clear catalyst whereby Tutt seemingly sought to rectify perceived slights to his reputation.

I hope readers recognize these glaring contradictions not just as reasons to question the credibility of Tutt’s claims, but also as a call to critically examine the information he has put forward, which gives the impression of him aligning with ownership’s interests. Multiple Repeater authors and former staff have corresponded with me about Tutt’s recent blogposts and social media output, all expressing the same sentiment: Tutt’s communication with Ilfield not only seemed opportunistic; to many of us, it also raised serious ethical concerns. Worse still, he crossed a line that many of us feel no author or worker in good faith would—exchanging sensitive information privately with the ownership in the wake of a diffused solidarity action and other subsequent questionable events.

What deepens our collective sense of betrayal is that, despite being made aware of Repeater workers’ solidarity efforts, Tutt appeared to disregard their significance, turning his back on the very individuals who once supported his projects. In his blog, the attempts to paint himself as an advocate for the imprints’ future are as cynical as they are hollow— whatever his intent, his recent alignment with Watkins’ narrative ultimately serves those who already see the imprints as doomed. The questionable claims he now repeats about financial mismanagement and censorship seem only to reinforce the talking points of someone scrambling to justify an inconsistent story.

While the consequences of that decision remain, so will the publishing legacy of the imprints that will survive those who have chosen to diminish it. The authors, activists, and creators who built Repeater are now fighting to preserve its legacy. Losing this home for independent voices would be a calamity for left-wing publishing. What matters now is reaffirming our commitments, forging new paths, and continuing the struggle where it counts.