Partisan podcasts failing at comedy

Comedy has long been one of our most effective tools for speaking truth to power. The weapon of satire is capable of humbling even the revered and the royal, when wielded effectively. Wit and insight combined have the unique capacity for cutting through dogma, laying bare the truth that humans are preening primates who take the social mores we have contrived for ourselves far too seriously.

So it has been a grating experience to witness the rise of the podcast bro edgelord as a strain of popular comedy — exemplified by the extended Joe Rogan cinematic universe, including figures like Andrew Schulz, Tim Dillon and the rest of their clones.

Not only have they lost the plot when it comes to comedy, there is also much to be said about their shortcomings as interviewers when they stray into the territory of journalists. The way they are always “just asking questions” while conveniently evading information that might lead them to real answers.

Perhaps the most egregious example of this was when the Canadian podcasters known as the Nelk Boys recently interviewed Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. The hosts of this supposed comedy podcast acknowledged that they had little understanding of the conflict in the Middle East and were ill-equipped to conduct such an interview. Yet they proceeded on the weak premise that somehow speaking with Netanyahu personally would provide some sort of clarity, as if conversing directly with a propagandist is an avenue to truth.

Unsurprisingly, the result was an unchallenged Netanyahu selling his war in Gaza to an audience of millions. The only pushback he received from his interviewers was when he contended that Burger King is better than McDonald’s. This, the Nelk Boys contended, was Netanyahu’s “worst take” of the interview. Never mind being effective journalists, I’m not sure the Nelk Boys can be trusted near stairs unless there’s a baby gate in place.

But what all these podcasters will tell you is that they aren’t trying to be journalists or pundits. They are, first and foremost, comedians. It’s an excuse that was weak when Jon Stewart first contended it decades ago, but has grown fully laughable when these podcast bros push it. Because while Stewart undeniably strays into the territory of punditry, he remembers a rule of comedy that these podcasters have seemingly never learned.

George Carlin was master of this lesson. Carlin understood that comedy suffers when you allow yourself to become a partisan. During this past American election cycle, many of these podcasters conducted interviews with members of Donald Trump’s political team, including Trump himself. These were uncritical interviews, entirely credulous of everything the Trump team said, and in many cases ended with outright endorsements from the podcasters for Trump’s presidency.

Carlin was the greatest satirist of his age because he understood all the things wrong with this. Firstly, he understood that as soon as you throw your lot in with a politician or a political party, you can never be taken seriously again as a pure comedian. Many of these podcasters are understanding this now, far too late, and speaking out against Trump’s brutal policies. Somehow they had failed to foresee what a Trump term would bring, astute social analysts that they are.

But even if Trump had been having an unlikely milquetoast term, think of the corner these comedians had painted themselves into through their sycophancy. For years they had established themselves as edgy truth-sayers as they mocked the Democrats in power, cultivating an audience of aggrieved Republicans. But now their guy is in power. What were they going to do on their edgy truth-saying podcast, talk about what a good job the president is doing for an hour?

But even beyond the simple tenuous nature of their partisan branding, Carlin understood that most of the problems our society faces are systemic. His greatest bits were all about breaking down institutional power and traditional hierarchies. Subverting cultural norms and poking fun at our sacred cows.

Did he have jokes about specific politicians and culture figures? Sure, tons of them. But he never fell into the trap of letting the news cycle du jour run his entire analysis. He satirized everyone who held power in a fashion that always let you know that the power itself was the target, leaving himself credible to go on the attack again when a new hand took the reins. And he would certainly never let himself become what these podcasters have become: at best duped mouthpieces for partisan propaganda, and at worst propagandists themselves.

Distinctly choosing a side and selling yourself out to become a champion for one brand of institutional power effectively reduces you to a proponent of the system that satire is meant to undermine. A disastrous position for a would-be comedian.

I think we have come to an impasse though. In our current political climate, the lines of morality and power have grown stark enough that even the typically wilfully blind are being forced to see light.

And so I have hope the blueprint for effective satire will become the norm again as well, and that we will remember there is more to good comedy than making a room full of fools fawn over how politically incorrect one can be.

Maybe we can even turf all these partisan mouthpieces for the hacks that they are.

» Alex Passey is a Winnipeg writer. This column previously appeared in the Winnipeg Free Press.