A slow media built for depth
The rise of think-casters—and why that may just save the republic
We’ve all heard of the manosphere and the rise of digital misogyny. We are seeing firsthand the very real dangers of misinformation spreading across a largely unchecked medium. But there’s another side, a more intellectual and constructive side. And that side isn’t pushing AG1 and vaccine lies; they’re discussing the ideas that will shape the next two—or maybe twenty—years of American life.
Podcasting remains one of the fastest-growing media platforms. While video, social media, and AI-generated content continue to dominate, podcasting retains something unique: depth. Unlike platforms optimized for quick, consumable content, podcasts allow for real ideas to take root, fostering meaningful conversation beyond surface-level discourse.
This is why I remain deeply skeptical about the push for video in podcasting. Video has its place, but podcasting’s strength lies in its ability to cultivate deeper listening—an experience that doesn’t rely on algorithms or visual spectacle. When podcasting is done right, it thrives in the intimacy of audio, where listeners engage fully rather than passively consuming through a screen.
There’s a reason podcasting grew out of journalism—it was built on integrity. But that integrity has been challenged. The manosphere and other bad actors leveraged the medium’s accessibility, but they didn’t respect the artform. They didn’t even realize they had to. And they definitely don’t care. They treated podcasting as a tool for influence, rather than an avenue for critical thinking, meaningful discussion, and understanding.
But podcasting’s original promise—just a mic and an idea—still holds power. It’s what makes podcasting resilient. While some try to force it into a rigid capitalist framework, the heart of podcasting remains independent, exploratory, and resistant to mass commodification. It’s not inaccurate to say podcasting played a role in Trump’s rise, but a counter-movement is brewing.
Live podcasting and intellectual gatherings
Podcasting’s impact is now extending beyond the feed. Live events—real moments with real people and trusted speakers—are becoming cultural touchpoints. Thinkers, not just podcasters, are gathering audiences eager for in-person engagement. Douglas Rushkoff, Sam Sanders, PJ Vogt, Dane Cardiel from Good Tape, Tristan Harris at Your Undivided Attention, my pal Jess Thomas (just wait y’all), the Endless Thread crew—and a friggin’ bearded Ezra! These aren’t political rallies, nor are they spectacle-driven influencer events. They are spaces for intellectual exchange, where ideas take center stage over brand sponsorships and social clout.
Don’t get me wrong—I work in the branded podcast space. There’s a lot of room for organizations to organically speak their truth without it sounding like a mattress commercial. In fact, I’d bet you listen to a branded show or two without even realizing it. The best branded podcasts don’t just sell; they build trust. They tap into the same thing that makes podcasting powerful in the first place: authenticity. It’s when brands respect the medium—when they enter with something to say, rather than something to push—that listeners actually engage.
The rise of think-casters
Podcasting has given rise to a new class of voices—not influencers, not pundits, but something different: think-casters. These are the podcasters who prioritize critical thinking over clicks, exploration over provocation, and substance over spectacle. They aren’t just reacting to the world; they’re shaping how we understand it. While the manosphere and engagement-hungry content creators have exploited the medium for influence, think-casters are reclaiming it as a space for deep conversation, intellectual exchange, and genuine connection. And in a time when distraction and division dominate, that might just be what saves the republic.
Connection is the key
We are drowning in distractions—designed to steal our attention, designed to make us consume. What if we cut ninety-five percent of that out? What if we reclaimed our focus?
To save this country—and maybe the planet—we need deeper connection. We need to step back from our digital obsessions and return to people, to friends, to neighbors. We need hyper-local awareness. Genuine community. Real conversations.
Attending a podcast live event isn’t about idolizing a host. It’s not another influencer-driven spectacle. It’s about thinking together, engaging in meaningful dialogue, and reconnecting as humans. Solving fucking problems.
We don’t need more consumption. We need collaboration. Grow your own food. You don’t need to be a homesteader to plant a tomato plant. Share resources with your neighbors instead of buying more. Everyone on the block doesn’t need their own lawnmower. Let yours sit idle in someone else’s shed when you’re not using it. Play music outside. Let your kids dance in the grass while you jam with a bunch of dads (Ok, that one is for me). Toast to the birth of the new baby down the street. Bring over a meal. Introduce yourself. Offer an old crib instead of buying another one. The world doesn’t need more SHIT. It needs more generosity. Focus on building relationships, not just wealth. What else do we really need to buy?
The case against influencer culture
True story: I knew Andrew Schulz when I lived in NYC. Not well, but I spent a good bit of time around him. He was chill—almost reserved back then. A comic, an incredibly privileged one, grinding away to make a name for himself in the City. Well, shit, he certainly did. But he let it bend him. He let it manhandle him. And now? What does he stand for?
He’s not a thinker. He’s a performer. But the jokes on us; he always was simply that: a performer. A reaction machine. A Youtube thumbnail. His audience will turn to the next thing just as easily because his tool isn’t thought—it’s attention. And the Zoomer generation is ripe for burnout. They’ve been living off cortisol-fueled digital crack for far too long, and that model is about to break. It’s about come undone, friends.
We don’t need more Andrew Schulz types—we need less. Sorry, old pal. We need more thinkers who see the bigger picture, who are willing to wrestle with complexity rather than distill everything into a punchline or a hot take. We need people who challenge us, who ask hard questions, who make us sit in discomfort long enough to actually learn something. Thought leaders, not just content creators. Conversation shapers, not just engagement hackers. The internets are already crowded with performers who thrive on provocation, keeping audiences hooked without offering anything of real depth— just a quick bump. We need less performance and more depth. Less spectacle, more substance.
It’s time to listen again.
Podcasting, at its best, is an antidote to the attention economy. It isn’t built for endless scrolling or fleeting dopamine hits. It’s slow media. Deep media. A space that values intelligence over impulse, conversation over clicks. If we want to save this country, we need connection. We need to listen—to real ideas, from real people, in real conversations.
And then? We need to raise our hand. Speak up. Be courageous. Add to the dialogue. Because right now, more than ever, we need all the ideas we can get.
100% to this: "Podcasting, at its best, is an antidote to the attention economy."
Back in 2018, Jon and I put the idea of valuing "slow, mindful media" in our original founding documents.
"We value mindful technology. Audio is slower, more mindful, and easier to turn off. We don't want to optimize for people being addicted."
https://github.com/TransistorFM/handbook/blob/master/values.md