Netflix Keeps Mainstreaming Misinformation and Panic Through Joe Rogan

Comedy, much like favorite routines, often compels me to revisit certain journalistic pieces. One such piece is Lindy West’s 2013 essay on Jezebel, written after her debate with Jim Norton about comedy’s role in perpetuating rape culture. The aftermath, filled with a torrent of hatred, drove West to release a YouTube video reading the threats she received merely for suggesting comedians should be more thoughtful. In her essay, she stated, “I believe that the way we speak about things and the type of media we consume profoundly influences how we think about the world.”

Emily Nussbaum’s 2017 New Yorker essay “How Jokes Won the Election” complements West’s views by examining the far-right’s weaponization of humor in Donald Trump’s ascent to the White House. Nussbaum posed a critical question: “How do you fight an enemy who’s just kidding?” This remains pertinent as Netflix frequently announces new stand-up specials from celebrities who often reduce queerness to punchlines.

Rewind to Joe Rogan’s last episode on NBC’s “Fear Factor” in 2012, he discussed his refusal to challenge contestants to drink donkey semen, citing that even he had a line he wouldn’t cross. This sentiment parallels Netflix’s current state, where his recent special, “Burn the Boats,” premiered as a live event.

Netflix remains the premier platform for stand-up specials, releasing over 150 in 2023 alone, overshadowing competitors like Amazon’s Prime Video, Hulu, and HBO in terms of volume. Each has its niche: Amazon features clean comedians like Nate Bargatze and Jim Gaffigan, while Hulu and HBO take a more selective approach.

In the past, Comedy Central specials or sitcom deals were the pinnacle for comedians. HBO was the ultimate dream, later joined by Showtime. Today, Netflix has taken over as the golden ticket. Lesser-known comics can fill clubs or theaters, while successful ones, like Taylor Tomlinson, can rise to broadcast network gigs after securing Netflix specials.

Live specials, however, are reserved for the top-tier comedians. Examples include Chris Rock addressing the Oscars incident and Katt Williams’ post-New Year’s special. John Mulaney’s variety show and Tom Brady’s roast are other instances where Netflix melds brand establishment with entertainment.

Rogan’s recent special is a testament to his substantial influence. With a new multiyear contract with Spotify potentially worth $250 million, along with opening Comedy Mothership in Austin, he’s creating a new comedy epicenter powered by successful podcasters. Austin has attracted many comedians, strengthening his pull in the booming live performance market.

However, Rogan, known for spreading pandemic misinformation, represents an inevitable element of modern popular culture. His influence is acknowledged even by major publications, and his arena-sized audience cultivates some controversial ideas. Noteworthy comedians like Tom Segura and Shane Gillis align with Rogan, pushing boundaries and sometimes forwarding odious ideas under the pretense of humor.

Segura, for example, has hosted controversial figures like Andrew Tate, while Gillis has faced backlash for racist material. Rogan, in his special, even praises notorious conspiracy theorist Alex Jones, asserting that Jones was “right about a lot of things,” although conceding his major fallacy about Sandy Hook.

The overarching issue is how such personalities, bolstered by platforms like Netflix, normalize dangerous rhetoric under the guise of humor. Comedy, as West pointed out, influences cultural attitudes. Jokes about sensitive subjects like transgender issues or conspiracy theories can contribute to harmful ideologies gaining mainstream acceptance.

The mantra of not watching if one isn’t interested holds some truth. Still, significant viewership statistics show the extensive reach of these platforms. Netflix alone accounted for 8.4% of TV usage in June, with streaming making up 40.3% of total TV time. There’s a vast audience, and Netflix’s promotion of various comedians shapes cultural dialogues.

The balance Netflix tries to strike includes offering diverse voices. Comedians like Hannah Gadsby represent progressive standpoints, contrasting the controversial figures. While there’s a market for problematic content, as evidenced by Spotify’s stance with Rogan, it’s essential to question what normalization these platforms drive.

To understand this dynamic, we return to Nussbaum’s observation that jokes can shrink a “Big Lie,” treating extreme as normal. Saturating the stream with such humor risks making fringe nonsense seem normal.

Source: Salon, New Yorker