Joe Rogan is one of the most influential voices in podcasting today — and that influence is rarely a good thing. His platform regularly amplifies misinformation, intellectual laziness, and conversations that lean more towards performance than genuine inquiry. Yet understanding his popularity can offer valuable insight into the cultural landscape we're all navigating, especially for those of us working in therapy, education, or the broader mental health field.
This blog post explores how Rogan became a cultural force and recommends some excellent critical podcasts that unpack the ideas — and dangers — embedded in his work.
I started listening to The Joe Rogan Experience back in 2009, long before it became the global juggernaut it is today. In those early days, the podcast seemed to offer something different: a raw, informal space where guests let their guard down and opened up. For a time, it even felt refreshing. Rogan's style wasn't polished, but he had a knack for getting people to talk.
But the more I listened, the more I noticed how little substance there actually was. Rogan often brought conversations back to his favourite topics — psychedelics, masculinity, conspiracy theories — regardless of what his guests had to offer. When guests challenged him, he'd steer the discussion back to safer ground, or simply talk over them. Over time, it became clear that the show was less about curiosity and more about maintaining a particular worldview.
Rogan's success is often misread as a sign of intelligence or open-mindedness. In reality, his power lies in his charisma — a specific kind of masculine charisma that resonates with many men — and in the aura of success that surrounds him. But his arguments lack intellectual rigour. They rely on anecdote, gut feeling, and the illusion of inquiry rather than careful reasoning. There's no real follow-through, no interest in being wrong, and little respect for nuance.
This might seem obvious, but it's exactly what makes his platform so insidious. He creates a space where misinformation can flourish — often under the guise of "just asking questions." And because his guests know they're speaking to Rogan's audience, they rarely push back. What results is a theatre of compliance, not conversation.
For anyone wanting to understand the contradictions and ethical failures at the heart of Rogan's brand, I highly recommend the Knowledge Fight episode "1031: An Unpleasant Sushi Date."
Knowledge Fight, hosted by Dan Friesen and Jordan Holmes, is a podcast dedicated to dismantling the lies and strategies of Alex Jones. Their research is meticulous, their commentary razor-sharp, and their perspective grounded in both lived experience and political awareness.
In this particular episode, they dissect an appearance Jones made on a documentary being made in which Rogan is being interviewed about comedy by someone who has a connection to the late comedian Bill Hicks. Jones, for some reason, is there and makes himself very known for the duration of the filming, at times even attempting to direct the show.
After openly accusing Jones (on camera) of habitually lying in order to win arguments, Rogan continues the conversation as if nothing happened. Jones, for his part, downplays his usual fire-and-brimstone worldview in order to appeal to Rogan's listeners. There's no ideological coherence, just a transactional relationship: Jones wants the audience, Rogan wants the entertainment value.
The interaction reveals a lot about Rogan himself. He positions himself as a "truth-teller" while giving airtime to someone he openly admits fabricates evidence. That's not neutrality — it's complicity.
If you're interested in podcasts that look critically at Rogan and his influence on masculinity, media, and misinformation, here are two more I recommend:
The Know Rogan Experience
This show provides detailed, often satirical breakdowns of The Joe Rogan Experience episodes. It's one of the few places that looks systematically at the patterns in Rogan's content and what those patterns reveal about his worldview — and his audience.
Behind the Bastards
Journalist Robert Evans uses deep research and biting humour to explore the worst people in history — including contemporary media figures. If you want a broader context for understanding the kinds of narratives Rogan promotes, this podcast delivers.
As a therapist, I'm interested in the ways people form beliefs, how they respond to authority, and what kinds of stories they internalise about themselves and the world. Media figures like Rogan don't just entertain — they shape worldviews, model interpersonal dynamics, and normalise particular kinds of behaviour.
It's not enough to ignore this just because it feels like "not our world." It is. Our clients live in it. We live in it. Understanding the appeal of a figure like Joe Rogan — and being willing to interrogate it — is part of the work.
If you want to engage with this critically, these podcasts offer a great place to start.
You're in the final stretch. Your time studying in Paris — whether it's been months or a year — is coming to an end. It's a strange, chaotic limbo of finishing exams, packing boxes, and navigating a complex swirl of feelings… or perhaps, a kind of numbness.
The first moment I can remember thinking like a conspiracist, I was seven years old. I was watching The X-Files.