If Joe Rogan were truly remorseful for the role he played in helping elect 45 and normalize the reelection of 47, he wouldn’t be rebranding—he’d be retreating. He’d shut down his podcast, step away from the microphone, and reckon with the damage he’s done. Instead, he continues to posture as a curious everyman, an “expert in nothing” with a platform that has amplified conspiracy theorists, misogynists, anti-vaxxers, and white nationalists under the disingenuous banner of “just asking questions.” Rogan didn’t just host controversial figures—he legitimized them. He gave them hours-long, unchallenged airtime to launder their ideologies into the mainstream, all while cultivating a fanbase that treats skepticism of science, empathy, and accountability as punchlines. He profited handsomely from this chaos, becoming a cultural juggernaut by feeding grievance, distrust, and manufactured outrage to millions. Now, as the political tides shift and the consequences of his influence become harder to deny, Rogan wants to pivot—casting himself not as a propagator of disinformation, but as someone who was “betrayed.” It’s a familiar playbook: the arsonist returns to the scene of the fire, claiming to be a victim of the smoke. Like Rush Limbaugh before him, Rogan has done incalculable harm under the guise of entertainment. And like Limbaugh, he will likely never be held accountable in any meaningful way. But let’s not mistake his self-pity for growth. Redemption requires more than regret—it demands silence, reflection, and a willingness to stop doing harm. Rogan has shown no interest in any of the above.
