The Man Who Killed "Crossfire"

Jon Stewart is back. He's bringing jokes. But comedy is not where the strength—or the potential—of his new show lies.

The Man Who Killed "Crossfire"

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Remember “Crossfire”?

The show in its original form aired on CNN from 1982-2005 (it was revived briefly in 2013-14).

By the time comedian Jon Stewart appeared on “Crossfire” in 2004, it had already become nothing more than a blowhard screamfest, the “precursor to all the worst things on cable news today.”

In a now-legendary appearance, Stewart told hosts Tucker Carlson and Paul Begala: “Here’s what I wanted to tell you guys: Stop. Stop hurting America.”  He slammed the show for the partisan hackery it indulged in, and called the still-bow-tie-wearing Tucker Carlson a “dick.”

Two months later, Crossfire was cancelled.

The show’s cancellation showed the cultural power wielded by Stewart, five years into what would become a 16-year-stint at the anchor desk of “The Daily Show.”

One appearance by a truth-telling comedian was enough to force CNN, “the most trusted name in news,” to abandon one of its most recognized programs. As CNN President Jonathan Klein said at the time, “I agree wholeheartedly with Jon Stewart's overall premise.” Klein also asserted that, post 9/11, viewers were more interested in information, not opinion.

Klein was wrong, of course. Axing “Crossfire” did nothing to improve our world or our politics.

Viewers, it turned out, were not that interested in “information.” As Fox News and a little Harvard website founded in 2004 called “thefacebook” would prove time and time again as the years unfolded, Americans were ready to be manipulated by opinion and misinformation—willing to consume a constant diet of propaganda as long as it reinforced the things they “knew” to be true, facts be damned.

In fact, the real problem with Jon Stewart is that, in wielding his cultural power, he didn’t just humiliate Tucker Carlson. He changed Tucker’s career trajectory. Sixteen years after “Crossfire” was cancelled, the now openly white supremacist Carlson is a marquee star at Fox News, encouraging violence, spreading death and disease, embracing authoritarianism, and accelerating America’s slide toward fascism.

The Problem With Jon Stewart

Stewart, after a six-year absence, is now back with a new show on Apple TV called “The Problem With Jon Stewart.” In Episode One, he immediately acknowledges that he’s older and more grizzled-looking. But by reverting to a “Daily Show”-like format, he seems unsure if his audience has aged—and matured—along with him. He’s like a rock star who feels compelled to play his greatest hits even though it’s obvious the only thing he’s truly passionate about right now is his new material.

Each episode of the new show takes a deep dive into a single “problem,” allowing those most affected by it to tell their stories—and then discuss what it will take for the problem to be fixed. After that, Stewart interviews a powerful figure who (theoretically at least) has the clout to actually do something about it.

In a New York Times interview, Stewart says he—and we—should keep any expectations that his show will effect real change in check:

Don’t be fooled that this momentary boost is somehow akin to change or effective activism. If it gives those individuals a quick boost and it helps them get over the hill, boy, that would be amazing but those hills — I don’t know if you’ve noticed, we’re all Sisyphus. I’d rather feel like the person pushing someone up than the person kicking them back down.

Stewart also acknowledges that, for all his “cultural power,” the man who killed “Crossfire” achieved very little in the actual corridors of power, saying:

There’s probably not a thing on “The Daily Show” that I advocated for over all those years that came to pass.

Stewart justifies his return to TV, in a world now full of “Daily Show”-style spinoffs,  by telling interviewer Dave Itzkoff:

Imagine saying to someone who plays guitar, “Lotta guitarists out there, man.” There’s no question, but this is a song I want to sing.

So he’s back doing what he wants to be doing, using his platform to puncture hypocrisy, call out injustice, and speak truth to power. He’s driven, he says, by the ethos of “The Emperor’s New Clothes”:

The idea that when there was a group delusion or a spell to be broken, that you could break it with an honest assessment or a funny dagger or something along those lines. And you would say, “Hey man, this [expletive] is naked.” And everyone would go, “Oh my God, that’s right, the tyranny is over.” You never expect that you live in a world where the boy would say, “But the emperor is wearing no clothes!” And everyone would turn and say, “You’re the enemy of the people! That’s fake news! You run a pedophile ring out of a pizza shop!” You’re like, wait, what? You’re not prepared for that moment to have no impact.

In other words, even when you’re Jon Stewart, the biggest power you have in declaring the emperor has no clothes is in maybe getting a TV show like “Crossfire” canceled.

And the fact that Trump remains the Emperor of the Republican Party after two impeachments, an insurrection, the worst pandemic in American history, and a phone call to Stephanie Grisham to go over in minute detail what he looks like with no clothes, kinda proves Stewart’s point.

Stewart’s new show won’t make you laugh. But it may make you cry.

Episode One of “The Problem With Jon Stewart” has gotten, at best, mixed reviews. But for me, the problem with the show was more in terms of its groan-worthy comedy than in the amplification of the issue at hand: demanding justice for U.S. veterans exposed to toxic burn pits. It’s hard to make jokes after talking to a war hero’s widow or a veteran suffering from stage 4 colon cancer.

As the tweet at the top of this article makes clear, Stewart and his team are planning on sticking with the jokes. But that’s not where the strength—or the potential—of his new show lies.

Personally, I’d prefer to see Stewart ditch the clowning and embrace his more obvious later-in-life calling: simply play it straight and take a full hour to shine a light on a solvable issue that needs to be tackled, offering viewers a level of detail and insight that no other show can offer.

Maybe Stewart is right and he won’t change anything. Or maybe he could, at least for his own post-Trump, Covid-fatigued, and slightly more grizzled audience, replace CNN as America’s most trusted name in news—and point the way forward for people who really want to make change happen.


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