Why does everyone have a podcast?

If you, like myself, cannot exist in silence with your thoughts for more than two minutes and are hence an avid podcast listener, you have probably noticed that the podcasting industry has dramatically changed in the last few years. What used to be a space for smaller creators to discuss their niche interests or share knowledge about a particular topic has been flooded with superficial drama, celebrities, and toxic alpha males—and the waters are rising.

People will have a moment of virality and try to capitalize off of it with a podcast. And yet, they contribute nothing more to the digital media sphere other than talking about their rise to fame, their big move to LA, and the Alo Gym… But don’t we have enough of that already?

There are over 6 million podcasts on Spotify and the podcasting industry has been oversaturated with the same type of content: a multimillionaire celebrity interviewing another multimillionaire celebrity, half a dozen misogynists body shaming women, and influencers discussing TikTok drama. This prompts the bigger questions of how the podcasting landscape got to this point, why we—as internet consumers—allowed this to happen, and what, if anything, can be done to give platforms to creators who truly deserve them.

The podcasting industry has morphed into a space for those who already have a large following to promote their brand, products, or other social media ventures. Many people who went viral for a short period of time start podcasts to hold on to their internet relevancy. The most recent example of this is Haliey Welch, the girl behind the “Hawk Tuah” meme who two weeks ago created a podcast called “Talk Tuah” (wow, what a time to be alive).

It has become a meme to speak about “Talk Tuah” like it is a revolutionary piece of media, but I think this is poking fun at the underlying truth of the show: that Haliey really has nothing groundbreaking to say. I have spared myself the pain of listening to an episode, but a quick Google search revealed that, unsurprisingly, the podcast is incredibly one-dimensional. Just because someone like Haliey went viral for an absurd catchphrase does not mean that they have thoughts or opinions worth listening to.

The problem, however, is that people do think she is worth listening to, as “Talk Tuah” shot up the charts to Spotify’s third most popular podcast. Whether people are watching as a joke or because they really want to hear about Haliey’s crush on Matt Rife (seriously?) is hard to say, but regardless, the internet is rewarding Hailey with its listenership. As a result, she and “Talk Tuah” are likely here to stay until we move on to the next meme.

What’s more is that podcasts have increasingly become a way for people with pre-existing audiences to make a quick buck. And this has rapidly dissolved the creativity and quality of the content. It feels like ad reads now take up about 25% of an hour-long podcast, but because creators are making substantial sums of money from these brand partnerships, there is an incentive for them to continue. However, when a podcast host stops their show to tell you about SeatGeek for the 17th time or to promote their own line of supplements that is probably a pyramid scheme, it begins to feel like your time is not valued and maybe, just maybe, your favorite podcaster only views you as a number in their analytics. Consumers can’t help but feel cynical toward this plethora of content—self promotion with a side of whatever the podcast is supposed to be about– which destroys the relationship between creators and loyal listeners, creating a sea of unauthentic and superficial podcasts.

The same harm that comes from an overemphasis on self-promotion in podcasting can be seen in almost any artistic industry, especially music and writing. In order to make sales, musicians and authors need to dedicate themselves to forming a personal brand online which detracts from the inherent value of their creativity. “Next thing you know, it’s been three years and you’ve spent almost no time on your art,” says Ricky Montgomery, a musician with nearly 2 million TikTok followers. “You’re getting worse at it, but you’re becoming a great marketer for a product which is less and less good.”

Large podcast platforms like Spotify have claimed that they are “democratizing” culture, but in fact, the opposite is true. While in theory anyone can start a podcast—and clearly way too many people seem to think this is a good idea– it is incredibly hard to garner a sustainable audience and income when the podcasting space is so saturated with content. The inner workings of the algorithm on podcasting platforms still remain a mystery to most creators, so those who are most successful from the beginning are people who already have a fan base. This means that the only ways to become a famous podcaster are to (1) already be famous, or (2) rely on drama and shock value to get views, which just creates more toxic and superficial podcasts.

There are also many hidden barriers to entry that make it difficult for people with new perspectives to enter the podcasting space. “You have to know how to present yourself and how to create content that is widely appealing,” states Christina Scharff, a gender and media studies scholar at King’s College London. “It’s harder for racial minorities, women, trans people, or other minoritized groups, because if you’re already vulnerable in one way or another, that can backfire.” The only people who are rewarded for “putting themselves out there” in both podcasting and across social media are the same people that society already rewards: the attractive, popular people with nothing substantial to say. As these people continue to become more popular, those who don’t fit this archetype are often pushed to the sidelines, creating a media landscape that largely reflects the thoughts and opinions of one group.

So how do we break this cycle? Well, in the age of the internet where viewership is a commodity that is bought and sold at a profit, who we give our attention to matters. The most important thing to do is to mindfully consume content, even if, like me, podcasts are just a thing you put on in the background while folding laundry.

This does not mean everything you consume has to be mindful in itself—I too like to indulge in brain rot content once in a while—but that we should make conscious decisions about who we allow to have a platform. Next time you open your podcast app because you have to complete a task that will take more than two minutes, instead of catching up on the newest episode of Bobbi Altoff whispering into a mic, consider these options instead—after all, there are over 6 million you can choose from.

One of my favorite podcasts is the “Broski Report”. Hosted by Brittany Broski, more widely known as “the Kombucha girl,” her podcast is a perfect example of someone who created a podcast after becoming a meme. Yet, she has used her platform as a force for good. Each episode is a hilarious blend of Brittany’s inner monologue and discussions of people and art that interests her, which is almost always coupled with a deep dive into some random topic ranging from municipal water grids to the Sistine Chapel.

If you want to educate yourself, you can get bite-sized news stories from podcasts like “The Foreign Affairs Interview”, “Economist Podcasts”, and “The Daily” by the New York Times. Lastly, because it is too good not to mention, check out the “Northwoods Baseball Sleep Radio”. The episodes are fake 2-hour baseball games narrated by a man with an old radio voice that will send you into the most peaceful slumber of your life.

Our time and attention is the most valuable currency in all digital spaces, especially in podcasting. Every day we are faced with a choice, some may call it the eternal question: to Talk Tuah or not to Talk Tuah? Hopefully this piece will help you make the right decision.