Old School. Biblically Independent.
By Dustin Rowles | Celebrity | January 15, 2026
There is something deeply satisfying about a podcast purge, which I finally got around to this week. After a month of episodes piling up faster than I could possibly listen to them, it became clear that a thinning was necessary, not just for my sanity, but because the medium has crossed from “abundance” into “obligation.” Just this week, Netflix announced new podcasts from Pete Davidson and Michael Irvin, on top of absorbing a chunk of the Ringer, Barstool Sports, and iHeartMedia ecosystem as those shows migrate from YouTube to Netflix. As many people have pointed out, they’re not really “podcasts” anymore. They’re just shows, packaged to slip into whatever app you’re already doom‑scrolling, with RSS as more of a legacy checkbox than a delivery system.
And honestly, why would I want to watch Pete Davidson ramble for an hour when I could be watching The Pitt or Riot Women?
The numbers are staggering. Reporting suggests the number of podcasts jumped from roughly 259,000 in 2024 to more than 534,000 in 2025. Podcasts are the new Facebook accounts. Apparently, everyone has one (including me!*). Meanwhile, video podcasts are chopped into thousands of clips for TikTok and Instagram, because long-form podcasts increasingly feel less like the product and more like an excuse to sell ads against short-form content.
No one can reasonably be expected to listen to or watch this many podcasts, but platforms and publicists keep behaving as though there’s infinite time and infinite enthusiasm. The more that launch, the more the market feels saturated, draining the novelty from the entire medium. Celebrity shows debut with a parade of famous friends, then run out of famous friends, and eventually devolve into a carousel of people promoting something. And Spotify just announced another price increase, probably to pay for more podcasts that we don’t need.
I actually miss the old seven-minute late-night interviews. I don’t need to hear Sarah Sherman appear on ten separate one-hour podcasts to promote a stand-up special. By the end of that circuit, whatever celebrity mystique might have existed is gone. We’ve replaced mystery with hours of parasocial chatter, and the trade hasn’t been worth it.
There was a time when checking my podcast feed in the morning felt like looking under the tree for presents. Who would I get to know better today? Now I know too much about everyone. After doing the interview rounds, they start their own podcasts, invite the podcasters who interviewed them, and the whole thing becomes a closed loop of the same voices talking about the same childhood stories, creative processes, near-miss roles, and hypothetical reboots. You can pick almost any episode at random and reliably hear some combination of childhood trauma, the creative process, and a nostalgic bit about a beloved ’90s sitcom. Somehow, I blame Jimmy Fallon.
We are clearly at peak interview podcast, just as podcasts that actually do journalism are being crowded out. Everyone says they loved Heavyweight, yet it was cancelled for lack of support. It came back because it’s what people said they wanted, in the same way everyone says they love independent media while letting their actual listening time drift to celebrities talking about their dogs. Everyone seems too busy with Amy Poehler’s charming but ultimately superficial conversations with friends, Seth Meyers chatting with his brother about family vacations, or Cher telling Dax Shepard that he’s not good enough for Kristen Bell.
It’s too much. I don’t know about everyone else, but while I still listen to a small handful of favorites (This American Life, Radiolab, Search Engine, and Mike Schur’s podcast), I’ve mostly retreated into audiobooks and television. They’re easier to keep up with in this post-peak-TV era, and they feel more rewarding. An audiobook gives me an experience, a portal to another world, an escape. That feels more substantial than listening to the same hundred celebrities rotate through each other’s podcasts, rehashing stories I’ve already heard three times. There are more podcasts than ever, but it increasingly feels like there’s less to say, or at least fewer people with the time and edit button to say it well.
(*For what it’s worth, our six-year-old podcast, which followed a three-year-old podcast we did with Joanna back in the day, isn’t ad-supported and is mostly just an excuse to hang out with friends and occasionally brainstorm post ideas. That anyone listens is gravy. In other words, it’s a group chat with RSS, which might be the most honest use of the medium left.)
