If you tuned into the red carpet for the Academy Awards, you may have seen actress Julia Fox being interviewed by social media influencers Quen Blackwell and Jake Shane, who were at the awards show reporting for Vanity Fair.
In a bit that completely misses the mark, Shane quipped several times about the “annoying” child character in If I Had Legs I’d Kick You, which earned Rose Byrne a nomination for best actress. After being asked by Shane repeatedly about the “annoying” kid in the movie, Fox politely and appropriately steers the conversation to the more important tenor of the movie: that it’s meant to depict the unforgiving pressures of motherhood. In fact, the identity of the child is intentionally obfuscated in the film to focus on Byrne’s emotional journey.
The moment has received residual backlash this week—not only for Shane’s flippant remarks, but for what it might indicate about the current state of entertainment journalism and where it’s headed. It raises the question of why media outlets keep hiring internet personalities to do jobs typically done by journalists.
As the media industry is laying off professional journalists en masse, a new kind of landscape and interview style is emerging. In many instances, journalists are no longer steering the conversation. Instead, we now have what I’ve been calling “besties journalism,” wherein big influencers who’ve made a name for themselves turn an interview with a notable figure into a gabfest.
And in our new attention economy, it makes some business sense. Influencers like Shane and Blackwell come with millions of zealous parasocial fans, and their appearance at a major event will inevitably create excitement and engagement online. Plus, many celebrities, politicians, and other high-profile subjects would prefer a softball interview over probing questions about tough issues or controversies. Mixed with an influencer’s propensity or need to be liked and to come across as friends with all their guests, what results is an exchange that lacks depth.
Shane’s time on the red carpet was just a hyper-visible moment for a phenomenon that’s been taking place for years—where the opportunity for virality that benefits both the influencer and the interview subject supersedes all.
Alex Cooper’s steadfast branding as a media mogul and her Call Her Daddy takeover of media can account for much of this shift in recent years. While her show can be entertaining—and has corralled a cult-like following, particularly among young women—it has diluted the sit-down, long-form interview.
Cooper has developed a reputation for chumming up to her guests while rarely following up with questions to their curious answers or demonstrating a deep knowledge of their work. Her 2024 sit-down with then-presidential hopeful Kamala Harris was essentially a well-dressed marketing campaign about palatable women’s issues. Her sit-down with Chappell Roan failed to get into the singer’s complicated relationship with fame and paparazzi. Instead, listeners got—and often get—a wishy-washy mosaic of vibes, affirmations, reactions, quips, people-pleasing, and performing personality.
The rise of influencer culture over the last 10 years that I’ve been reporting on it has been fascinating and bewildering to watch: Nobodies (respectfully) have become household names, creating fortunes and opportunities from sharing their unfiltered thoughts and lifestyles. But beyond everyday people just chasing the bag, I’ve been more disheartened by newsrooms and big brands also chasing after it. I think Shane’s Oscars mishap has created a record-scratch moment of reckoning for so many of us who feel protective of either journalism or the art that journalism helps scrutinize or situate.
And to be clear, Shane and Cooper are good at what they do. They are entertainers and, first and foremost, are hustlers of self-branding and creating many revenue streams for that brand. But the lack of depth in some cases underscores a need for a different approach when it comes to journalism.
Confronting someone more powerful, wealthy, and famous than you about sticky issues that may create an uncomfortable moment is the name of the game, and it’s quite difficult to do for a reason. It is not a job for everyone—and requires a real, principled commitment to the craft. (Shane has said that he allows all his interview guests to vet their appearances, which is a big no-no as far as maintaining ethics and independence goes.) And it also takes real gumption and an obsession to delve into the meaty material of something (research, sitting with a piece of work to understand it holistically and profoundly, and an interrogation of your own personal biases).
This is all to say that there is absolutely space for a third thing that isn’t quite journalism, and is maybe somewhere in the ether of an influencer collab. And that not all traditionally trained journalists are good at the job, either. We’ve seen our fair share of bad questions and engagement from them, too—it’s a tough job. But I do hope we have a referendum on these industry shifts before we are forced to watch another missed opportunity, or a potential conversation between Shane and . . . Martin Scorsese (can you imagine?).
For the gag and the viral soundbites, sure.
For the arts, no. We can do better.
