By Phil Huber, ADVANCE COLUMNIST
The Wall Street Journal’s analysis of conservative podcasts earlier this week offered an interesting political story: Some online personalities who helped Donald Trump reach voters in 2024 may be talking about him less often now.
The civic lesson is that in the age of podcasts, influencers, algorithmic feeds, and political clips passed from phone to phone, we have more responsibility for deciding what deserves our trust.
I say that as a 79-year-old bro.
I may not be the fellow most people picture when they hear that word. I do not use social media as my regular source of news. I do not take political instruction from a man in headphones who may be selling supplements, gold coins, or survival gear between opinions.
But I understand why people listen.
Podcasts can be lively, personal, funny, revealing, and sometimes genuinely informative. They can introduce voices that traditional news organizations overlook. They can allow citizens to hear directly from candidates, experts, and people who have lived through an issue. A long conversation can provide context that a 30-second campaign commercial never will.
Still, a long conversation is not necessarily an interview. That is where civic responsibility begins.
I have spent enough years in the military, federal service, and civic life to know that a confident speaker is not necessarily a competent leader. In government, the questions that matter most are often the ones someone would rather not answer.
What will this policy cost? Who pays? Who benefits? What authority allows it? What happens when the plan fails? What happens to the people who bear the burden but never receive the benefit?
A candidate can spend two or three hours with a friendly host and still avoid every one of those questions. The conversation may feel authentic. It may even be entertaining. But length is not scrutiny, familiarity is not evidence, and access to a candidate is not the same thing as accountability.
That does not make every podcaster dishonest or every listener gullible. It means that citizens should understand the difference between an interview and an appearance designed to make a politician seem like a friend at the next barstool.
Pew Research Center found that 21 percent of U.S. adults—and 37 percent of adults ages 18 to 29—said they regularly get news from news influencers on social media. That does not mean younger people are careless or older people are immune from misinformation. It means political information increasingly reaches citizens through a system very different from the local newspaper, the network interview, or the public-affairs program.
Pew’s examination of 500 popular news influencers found that 77 percent had no current or past affiliation with a news organization. It also found that 59 percent monetized their online presence through subscriptions, donations, merchandise, or similar means. Those facts do not make influencers dishonest. Traditional news organizations make mistakes, too. But they should lead us to ask: Who checks the facts? Who corrects the record? Who discloses a financial stake? Who benefits when an audience stays angry, afraid, or constantly coming back for more?
That is not a partisan problem. It is a citizen problem.
The Wall Street Journal reported that an internal AI tool examined nearly 70,000 hours of programming from 147 conservative political podcasts. According to their data, Trump mentions declined from roughly 39 per hour near the 2024 election to about 11 per hour by September 20.
That finding is not voter polling, nor does it prove that Trump supporters have changed their minds, and it does not predict an election result.
But it should remind us how quickly the attention marketplace moves. The story changes when a host’s audience, a sponsor’s interests change, a war begins, a cultural fight erupts, or the next outrage promises more engagement.
Politicians do not own the microphone. They rent it. Citizens, however, should not rent out their judgment.
It is our responsibility to separate political performance from evidence, outrage from information, and a familiar personality from a public servant. The fact that someone sounds like the person you would enjoy having a beer or a coffee with does not tell you whether that person is telling the truth, understands the Constitution, has a workable policy, or will use power responsibly.
The answer is not to abandon podcasts, social media, or online creators, but to treat them as a starting point, not a stopping point.
When a clip catches your attention, find the full conversation. Then find a source that challenges it. Check whether the claim rests on actual data, legislation, a court decision, an official document, or simply a confident assertion. Look to see whether the same story appears in outlets with different viewpoints. Notice what the candidate did not answer.
In other words, bring it to the kitchen table.
Before you repeat a claim, forward a clip, or decide a candidate has earned your vote, ask questions. Who is speaking, and who checks their facts? What hard question did the candidate avoid? What evidence can I check for myself? Who benefits if I stop asking questions?
None of us has time to investigate every claim. But before we repeat one, we can take five more minutes to find the original source. We can see whether someone credible tells a different story. If the claim affects your family, your community, your pocketbook, or your country, it deserves more than a quick clip and a thumbs-up.
So, this 79-year-old bro has one request of every younger bro and every one of us who thinks we already know whom to trust: Do not let a good microphone, a confident voice, or a familiar grievance do your thinking for you.
A podcast can entertain. It can educate. It can introduce an important issue. But it cannot do our civic homework for us.
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Phil Huber is a retired Army Reserve colonel, federal civil servant and consultant who writes on civic education. He lives in Fredericksburg.
