Steven Crowder isn’t Joe Rogan, and The Daily Wire shouldn’t want him.

And they certainly shouldn't pay him $50 million.

Comedians, actors, musicians — well, mostly all of us — deep down, sometimes (or often) want to be somebody else. Except Bono.¹ It’s the human condition. Bound by time, we are infinite souls cast in a finite body, walking the planet, held down by gravity — all the while we’d rather be cruising Jupiter on a Triumph 1200, with loud pipes and a jet-pack strapped to the back, blasting “Won’t Get Fooled Again” and toking on a non-toxic unfiltered Lucky Strike. No? Just me, and Elon? But here we are, bound by days, paying the mortgage and wanting to kick the shit out of Joe Biden when you see the price of eggs. 

But anyway — Steven Crowder. 

I’ve always liked the guy. Decent comedian, for someone who wishes they were a Fox News analyst. Decent news analyst, for someone who kind of wishes they were a comedian. Good debater. Good (albeit show-off) boxer and jiu jitsu practitioner, for someone who wishes they were a Navy SEAL. And a pretty rad Canadian — for someone who wishes they were American. 

But Crowder’s weird mix of cross-dressing comedy and dead-serious debate is his shtick. And he’s good at it. 6 million subscribers and millions of dollars of YouTube money good. And while that’s not Floyd “Money” Mayweather money — it’s a hell of a lot more than upper management at your local Fortune 500 makes. All while having a heck of a lot of fun, getting into near-fistfights with college kids, and wearing a double leather shoulder holster while you sit at a desk, smoke a cigar and rant with your buddies about how the world’s going to crap. Not a bad gig. 

Tim Pool speculates Crowder probably makes in the low 10-millions a month from all his monetized channels. That blew my mind. I knew YouTubers made money if they were Logan Paul — but a conservative commentator, albeit a successful one, making…NBA money?! To me that is wild. But good for him.

Now here’s the news: currently, Crowder is in between contracts. So he’s out playing the free agent game. He gets offers. Big ones. As we now know, one from the Daily Wire. 

The Daily Wire apparently thinks Crowder is worth north of 50 million dollars. (Recall, Spotify paid Joe Rogan — JOE ROGAN — $100 million). 

That wasn’t common knowledge. Until yesterday, when Crowder put out a 20-minute podcast where he proceeds to do what’s made him millions: he creatively, convincingly, emotionally, and un-comedically bitches. 

He proceeds to read through the contract offer the Daily Wire (we now know) sent to him. Accuses them of being greedy. Accuses them of being in the pocket of big tech. Says they do a disservice to creators and young come-ups by offering nasty, sinisterly binding terms that promise to violently punish him and immediately put his family in the poor house and ship his children to the gulags if he happens to call in sick one day. 

He talks about how “Big Con” (mainstream or popular Conservatives) have sold him out — him, the golden child, the fortunate son, the self-supposed poster boy of the free-thinking YouTube movement. He is starting a website to combat this Neo-con, con man swamp. He is outraged. He’s been hoodwinked, bamboozled, taken for a ride on the long black train to a no-name town (read that in Daniel Craig’s Benoit Blanc voice). He is besotted with vindictive fury. 

Meanwhile, like John Stewart once joked about Comedy Central and Dave Chappelle, I’m just sitting here thinking: The Daily Wire has 50 million dollars?? 

And they’re offering it to Steven Crowder?! The guy who sports a pistol double-shoulder holster on air, like he’s expecting to have to go John Wick on Ezra Klein mid-show? It definitely does not make him look like a wannabe 1920’s FBI agent / Texas Ranger. 

That guy? Getting offered NFL starting-QB money? Actually, better than that. Joe Burrow, perhaps the next great quarterback of this generation — Heisman trophy-winner, 2022 Super Bowl contender — has a reported 4-year contract value of $36 million. Crowder would be getting almost double Joe Burrow money…

And he’s BITCHING ABOUT IT?

I mean, hey if you think you’re worth it, man, negotiate. Turn down the deal. Monetize that subscriber Mug Club you’ve got. You’re clearly worth — or think you’re worth — more than some of the most famous athletes on the planet. But don’t come crying to me (aka, all of us listeners — many of whom probably happen to be listening to you while we’re at work), wringing your hands for justice. Like Russell Crowe tells Paul Bettany in Master and Commander, “You’ve come to the wrong shop for anarchy brother.” 

Crowder has always been a blow hard. But I’ve liked a lot of it. In 20-minute increments. Hell, I think he’s pretty funny and clever, and damn creative. But he runs his mouth like a windmill. Like someone who hasn’t ever really been hit (filming getting punched by your staff doesn’t count). Like someone, deep down, who has never truly proved himself, to himself. His humor is kind of like that Christian youth pastor who thinks he’s a lot funnier than he is, and still makes fart jokes because saying “Why did the woman cross the road…” isn’t kosher with the kids. Crowder sort of bullies his laughs. He yells when he should be making a pause and a soft punchline. He’s just not that funny — unless you’re a conservative youth group kid, in which case I guess he’s fucking hilarious. 

$50 million isn’t funny either. That’s serious money. But Crowder’s not a serious guy. He’s a jester who apparently thinks that the rules don’t apply to him just because the king’s laughing. But he’s a member of court, same as everyone else. 

In his video response to Crowder, Daily Wire CEO Jeremy Boreing points out that their $50 million offer is likely to be closer to $100 million, all-in cost, after negotiation, marketing, promotion, etc. goes into Crowder. 

$100 million — now where have we heard that before in the podcast space recently? That’s right —  it’s what Spotify paid Joe Rogan. Joe Rogan, the biggest media voice on the planet, bar none. Rogan is a household name in Romania for petessake.²

Crowder is to podcasts like Eric Church is to country music. He’s huge. But Joe Rogan is Taylor Swift co-headlining with U2. 

Crowder’s ego is, and always has been — and this is obvious if you listen to him for more than five minutes — more inflated than the Stay Puft marshmallow man at the end of Ghostbusters. Again, I don’t dislike him, I listen to the guy. He’s smart and clever and occasionally truly funny. About 1/10 rants he delivers are Dennis Miller-quality clever and worthy of a crowd. But he’s not Joe Rogan, or Burrow. He sure as shit ain’t Bono. 

But let’s stick with like-to-like. Let’s imagine Crowder is a player like Rogan. 

Here’s the difference:

We’ve all got several kinds of friends. Let’s pick two: we’ll call them the Hearer and the Teller.

We all know the Hearer. This is the friend who comes over and sits at the kitchen table and commiserates with you over a couple beers for a few hours — the guy who just hears you out about your shitty day, or aggravation with your wife and kids, nodding along, not really offering much but the understanding sighs and “Man, that is rough,” nods of emotional support. He cracks a few jokes but you know he gets exactly what you’re talking about, and even though it’s getting late and you know he’s got stuff to do, he asks if you want to hit the pub down the road for one more. The hearer is the guy who asks good questions. He isn’t afraid to tell you the truth, but he often hides it in a good story about a time he screwed up or an understanding slap on the back. But above all — you know the hearer just quietly has your back. He’s been there before too. He gets it. 

That’s Joe Rogan. And we all know it. He’s the kind of guy 11 million daily listeners want in their living rooms. 

Ok, now same situation, except you invite friend B over. The Teller. We all know this friend too. He’s a good guy — smart and capable. But he comes over and starts talking fast about his day and what project the company he’s the regional vice president of is working on — and then he goes, “But hey, what’s going on with you man?” So you start in about your rut, and after about five minutes of fidgety listening, he hits you with: “Dude, it sounds like what you need to do is…”, and proceeds to diatribe about the bigger picture societal problem that your personal problem is a part of; and he tells you what he thinks you should do (thinking he’s truly being useful, offering his well-researched advice and all) — and you should read this book, and watch this video — and then he asks you, checking his watch, as if you’re wrapping up a corporate meeting or something, “Hey, let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”  And he leaves, patting himself of the back that he’s helped you out, the good problem-solving friend that he is. And he means well, he thinks. And he really is smart, but he’s the guy who talks to you and the rest of the friend group like he’s teaching you something. You know the kind — the accidentally condescending friend. Meanwhile he left a half-drank beer on your table, and can’t pick up your call now because he’s coaching soccer practice with the kids. You should hear his bit on why soccer really is the world’s greatest sport and how the economics of third world countries actually contribute to its popularity. He read about it in a book about it. That’s the Teller. 

That’s Steven Crowder. 

So despite all his listeners and fans and subscribers, and people he’s won petty arguments with whilst sitting at a white table on a college campus with “Change My Mind” written on the banner; despite all his views and sketches and shares and publicized beefs with YouTube; despite all the different people he wishes he was — and gets paid pretending to be — Crowder is at heart, a loudmouthed malcontent, and he knows it. 

Crowder shouldn’t join the Daily Wire. And they shouldn’t want him. Follow the age old rule of journalism and follow the money, and do what Spotify did. If you’re the DW, Find yourself a Rogan, and if you can’t, at least find someone with that one-in-a-million skill of listening — truly listening. Because people don’t tune in to hear you talk, they tune in to listen — and to somehow, through your voice, hear themselves heard. 

Turns out, like a biblical paradox come to $100 million fruition, in the podcasting world of the blowhard, it’s the hearer who actually wins.  

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1. Joke: “What’s the difference between God and Bono? …God doesn’t think he’s Bono.” 

2. See, Tim Dillon podcast episode 330 referencing a gig in Romania where a guy stood up in the crowd, pointed at him and yelled “Rogan, Joe Rogan!” because he’d seen Dillon on Joe Rogan.