There’s a curious energy humming through today’s media landscape — a sense that the volume dial is stuck on “max.” Whether you’re scrolling through your favorite social feed, flipping on a sports talk show, or dipping into the world of podcasts, it’s hard to ignore: brashness and audacity have become the currency of attention.

It’s not just politicians or reality stars — look at the rise of sports media personalities like Stephen A. Smith or Pat McAfee, whose bombastic styles have turned commentary into a kind of performance art. Their voices ring out, not just above the crowd, but often in place of it. In this new ecosystem, quiet credibility and fact-based nuance seem to have faded into the background, replaced by the magnetic pull of the bold and the outrageous.
This isn’t about nostalgia for a simpler time or a veiled critique of any one personality. Instead, it’s a reflection on a cultural shift that’s hard to ignore. We live in an era where the loudest voices don’t just get heard — they get rewarded.
It’s a shift that touches sports, news, entertainment, politics, and even the way we learn and interact online. And it’s enough to make you pause and wonder: how did we get here? What does it mean for the way we understand our world? And, perhaps most importantly, can we do anything about it?
The Bold Get Clicks: Why Eyeballs Flock to Audacity
Let’s start with the central question: why do today’s “viewer eyeballs” and online attention gravitate toward the loudest, most provocative content? On any given day, the trending topics on Twitter, viral TikToks, or the most downloaded podcasts often feature personalities who are unafraid to shout, provoke, or even antagonize.
Whether it’s sports debates that devolve into shouting matches or news feeds packed with clickbait headlines, the digital marketplace rewards those who can cut through the noise — by making even more noise.

Take Stephen A. Smith, for example. His signature style is unmistakable: rapid-fire delivery, emphatic gestures, and a willingness to say what others might only whisper. Pat McAfee, too, has built an empire on candor, high-energy banter, and a kind of performative authenticity that feels tailor-made for the YouTube era. Their shows aren’t just about sports — they’re about spectacle. But the phenomenon extends far beyond the sports desk.
Of course, I can’t write a piece about shameless self-promotion without mentioning the most obvious example: Donald Trump. Like it or not, Trump is the quintessential embodiment of the bombastic, self-serving performer archetype. His success, both in business and politics, stems not from subtlety or detail but from relentless visibility, misdirection and audacity.

He may not always be “wearing clothes,” so to speak, but he understands, perhaps better than anyone, how to command attention and dominate the cultural conversation. Trump’s approach is less about the substance of what’s being said and more about ensuring that it’s impossible to look away — an artful mastery of the spectacle that has, for better or worse, become a template for others seeking the spotlight.
Of course, this raises a challenge: I promised that my blogs wouldn’t be political musings, and yet, here we are — acknowledging a figure whose influence on the “loudness economy” is undeniable. It’s a bit of a box, isn’t it?
Even when we try to keep things apolitical, the characters who best embody the era’s appetite for audacity often come from the world of politics. It’s a reminder that the lines between cultural commentary and political observation are blurrier than ever. Perhaps that’s part of the point: the loudest voices don’t just shape one sphere — they infiltrate them all, making it nearly impossible to keep the conversation neatly compartmentalized.
But let’s not stop at sports and politics. The modern media landscape is filled with larger-than-life personalities who have built their brands on a foundation of volume and bravado. Gordon Ramsay, for instance, has turned abrasive theatricality into a culinary empire — his sharp tongue and explosive reactions are as much a part of his appeal as his recipes.

Simon Cowell, the reality TV antagonist, has made a career out of blunt, often harsh critiques that draw as much attention as the talent he’s judging. Jim Cramer, with his energetic, almost frenetic delivery of financial news, transforms market analysis into a kind of performance art. In each case, the spectacle of personality often overshadows the content itself, drawing viewers in with the promise of drama, conflict, or catharsis.
It’s not that thoughtful, well-researched reporting or commentary has disappeared. But let’s be honest: when was the last time a calm, fact-based podcast episode or a measured news article went viral? When did you last see a nuanced, quietly delivered commentary rack up millions of views? The reality is that our attention is drawn to what stands out, and in a crowded digital marketplace, what stands out is often what’s loudest.
Why doesn’t quiet, fact-based content leave the same impression on society as it once did? Part of it is the way our brains are wired: we’re drawn to novelty, conflict, and emotion. Bold statements and heated debates trigger reactions — outrage, excitement, amusement — that are easy to share.
Algorithms, which are designed to respond to our behavior, pick up on this, amplifying what gets engagement and pushing it to even wider audiences. Somewhere along the way, the metrics of engagement — likes, shares, comments — became the measure of value, and the algorithmic gods decided that boldness is best.
The result? A feedback loop where the most provocative voices rise to the top, and the quieter, more nuanced perspectives get drowned out. It’s a system that rewards spectacle over substance, and it’s reshaping not just what we watch and listen to, but how we think and interact with one another.
Outrage as Fuel: It’s Not Just Politics

It would be easy to pin this phenomenon solely on politics — after all, political discourse has become infamous for its polarization and performative outrage. But the “outrage as fuel” model now powers everything from sports and entertainment to online education and wellness content.
Consider the world of fitness influencers. Scroll through Instagram or TikTok, and you’ll find no shortage of trainers promising miraculous results in 30 days, or self-help gurus offering tough love with a side of viral catchphrases. The most successful personalities aren’t necessarily the most qualified — they’re the ones who can deliver a message with maximum impact, whether that means shouting into the camera, making bold (sometimes dubious) claims, or staging elaborate stunts.
Even the realm of online education isn’t immune. YouTube and TikTok are filled with educators competing for attention, often resorting to ever-bolder claims and personalities to stand out. The quiet, methodical explainer video is often overshadowed by the teacher who can turn a math lesson into a viral meme or a history lecture into a dramatic narrative.
Entertainment, too, has embraced the spectacle. Reality TV thrives on conflict and confrontation; late-night talk shows reward the host who can deliver the sharpest zinger or the most outrageous take. Even in the world of literature and film, controversy and audacity are often more marketable than subtlety and depth.

Of course, media has always had its provocateurs. There have always been shock jocks (e.g., Howard Stern), sensational headlines, and personalities who built careers on being larger-than-life (e.g., Christopher “Mad Dog” Russo). But the scale feels different now — supercharged by algorithms that reward engagement above all else. If it’s true that “the medium is the message,” then today’s message is clear: be loud, or risk being invisible.
The numbers back this up. Recent studies have shown that social media algorithms are designed to maximize engagement, and engagement is most easily sparked by content that provokes strong emotions — anger, surprise, or amusement.
A 2022 Pew Research Center study found that posts expressing outrage or extreme opinions are far more likely to be shared and commented on than those that take a more balanced approach. In other words, the system is built to amplify the bold, the brash, and the controversial.
A Brief Aside: Loud vs. Annoying in Meme Culture

It’s worth pausing for a moment to consider the difference between “loud” and “annoying,” especially in the world of memes. While bombastic performers actively demand your attention, memes — especially political ones — often feel more like background noise, quietly circulating through your feeds.
Maybe it’s the passivity of sharing or the repetition of the same joke that makes them less “loud” and more grating. Unlike the in-your-face energy of a Stephen A. Smith monologue or a Gordon Ramsay tantrum, memes can be annoyingly persistent without ever raising their voice. There’s probably a whole essay to be written about why this kind of digital repetition feels different from the spectacle of performance. Maybe I’ll save that for another day.
Am I Just an Old Fuddy-Duddy?
Perhaps I’m just showing my age. Maybe every generation feels like the world is getting noisier and less thoughtful. There’s a chance I’m morphing into that “old fuddy-duddy” who shakes a fist at the clouds, longing for the good old days of Walter Cronkite and calm, reasoned debate. My younger self might roll his eyes at my nostalgia, pointing out that every era has its own brand of sensationalism.
However, I can’t help but wonder if there’s something deeper happening here. Is it just me, or are we losing our appetite for nuance? Is our collective attention span shrinking, or are we simply adapting to a new kind of media environment — one where being noticed is more important than being right? Maybe it’s a bit of both.
I’ll let you decide. But I’d encourage you to take a look at your own media habits — what grabs your attention, and why? When was the last time you shared an article because it was quietly insightful, rather than because it made you laugh, gasp, or fume? Are we, as consumers, part of the problem — or can we be part of the solution?
Gentle Remedies for a Noisy World

If you find yourself craving substance over sensationalism, you’re not alone. The good news is, there are ways to gently push back against the tide — without unplugging entirely or retreating to a cabin in the woods.
First, try supporting quieter voices. Seek out podcasts, newsletters, or YouTube channels that value depth over drama. There’s a growing movement of creators dedicated to long-form interviews, thoughtful analysis, and in-depth reporting. Subscribing to their work, sharing it with friends, or even just leaving a positive comment can help amplify voices that might otherwise get drowned out.
Second, consider subscribing to long-form journalism. Yes, it takes more time and attention, but the payoff is worth it. Outlets like The Atlantic, The New Yorker, or, often, your favorite local newspaper, still produce in-depth stories that prioritize substance over spectacle. Supporting these publications — whether through subscriptions or donations — helps ensure that thoughtful journalism continues to have a place in our media diet.
Third, practice a little digital mindfulness. Next time you’re tempted by a clickbait headline or a “you-got-to-be-kidding-me” commentary, pause for a moment and ask yourself: is this really worth my attention? Is it informing me, or just provoking a reaction? Taking a breath before clicking can help break the cycle of outrage and impulsive engagement.
Finally, talk about this with others. Share your thoughts with friends, family, or online communities. The more we acknowledge the problem, the easier it becomes to seek out and support alternatives.
It may be a small step, but each of us can help nudge the culture toward a little more balance — one thoughtful click at a time. Hope, after all, is contagious. And who knows? Maybe the next big trend will be a return to quiet credibility.
Closing Thoughts: The Power of Choice
The world isn’t going to get quieter on its own. The incentives that drive our media landscape — algorithms, ad dollars, and the ever-present quest for attention — aren’t going away anytime soon. But that doesn’t mean we’re powerless. Every click, every share, every subscription is a vote for the kind of content we want to see more of.
We may not be able to turn down the volume on the entire culture, but we can curate our own media bubbles. We can choose substance over sensationalism, depth over drama, and curiosity over outrage. In doing so, we send a signal — to creators, to platforms, and to each other — that there’s still a place for quiet credibility in a noisy world.
So here’s to the thoughtful voices, the careful researchers, and the storytellers who take their time. Here’s to the readers, listeners, and viewers who crave more than just the next viral moment. The journey back to balance won’t be easy, but it starts with a single, simple act: choosing to listen, even when the world is shouting.











Gary McCorkle
Great sentiments, Reed.
Lee, as I read your blog I kept thinking of an old James Brown song — the lyrics said, “… just talking loud, and saying nothing!”
Reed Sprague
This blog post is an example of why I enjoy your writing so much, Lee. Quality, thoughtful and thorough writing like this has gone the way of the dinosaur, but you are holding the standard. You are on the high road.
It used to be that headlines were accepted by all if they were misleading and even a little trashy; however, the articles under the headlines were required to be solid, fact filled and reasonable.
No more. Today’s articles are worse than the headlines, and the headlines are worse than ever.
I was personal friends with a fairly well-known columnist (now deceased) who wrote a questionable article with a grossly misleading headline. I saw him at a conference and gently challenged him about the headline (which unfairly stereotyped a particular group of men as potential Nazis). I was shocked that he told me he was not responsible for headlines and that was the nature of the writing profession at the time … and “that’s actually good” because it gets people to read “the story!”
I then asked him if the particular group of men mentioned in the headline and article were, in fact, as he portrayed them? His answer: No! But that does not matter. The warning to the readers about the men’s potential behavior was more important than the facts and reasonableness of the content of the headline and article!
Bottom line: This headline and article, which was in a well-known American newspaper, was no different than any run-of-the-mill headline and article in the National Enquirer or The Globe or any other tabloid paper!
Reed Sprague
Reminds me of the story of the preacher who was drafting one of his sermons. It was a good homily except for one paragraph that the preacher just could not seem to get right. For hours he scribbled all over the pages trying to get that paragraph right, but nothing worked. He gave up. Finally, exasperated, he crossed out the entire paragraph with a red pen and wrote in large red letters in the margin: “Weak point, scream loud!”