Podcast Thoughts

The Louis Theroux Effect: Podcasts and Theoretical Empathy

August 10, 2021 12:47 pm

A common trope within the podcast realm, particularly in the British podcast circuit, goes something like this: A British man, usually upper-middle-class or related to aristocracy, usually having grown up in a private school, and usually hailing from London, sits down to interview someone about their life, which is diametrically opposite to that experience. They sit, much like Louis Theroux does on his own podcast, and participate in ‘theoretical empathy’, interviewing their subject with a veneer of understanding and engagement, when in fact, their privileged circumstances only allow them to participate theoretically in the ideas and feelings that their subject has experienced.

Ultimately, hosts like Louis Theroux are thrown in to represent an intellectual Everyman. For the most part, Louis is deemed as someone remarkably similar to the listeners, but with an added intellectualism that grants him access to foreign spaces. When encountering a new subject or culture, he is intelligent enough to know the parameters of a subject, but will still ask leering and ignorant questions, creating a false persona of naivety. This naive charm often has varied consequences, with guests either politely indulging his questions, or slyly playing off feelings of anger or annoyance. The intellectual Everyman format goes beyond just Theroux, and can similarly be seen amongst a whole group of British podcasting men, with the likes of Adam Buxton similarly upholding this same, detached naivety when interviewing individuals on similarly serious subject matter.

Empathy and Grounded with Louis Theroux

A recent example of this false naivety backfiring is a recent interview with Michela Coel on his podcast Grounded, where after repeated questioning from Louis, Coel turns the interview on its head. Whilst discussing her most recent TV show, I May Destroy You, which covers the sticky morals of consent and sexuality, Theroux flippantly asks, “What are the rules?”, with an expectation that Coel will dogmatically and strictly describe specific sexual rules.

Resisting this expectation, she instead asks Theroux what she thinks her intentions are as a writer, and whether he believes she is trying to purposefully sway someone towards a specific conclusion, or if she is merely presenting a realistic moral dilemma:

“It’s not that I’m saying ‘okay, this is good and this is bad’ because, as we’ve discussed, I don’t have those labels. What I think is really interesting is how we look at the actions of somebody else. And based on our experiences, we see it’s a certain way. And depending on our trauma, we deem the person bad, good, right or wrong. If we look at that really complex thing, which I just love so much, there’s a lot going on.”
Michaela Coel on Grounded with Louis Theroux

What Michela expertly picks up on is that trauma is complex, but it colours our understanding of the world in ways that someone who has not experienced that same trauma would realise. In fact, it’s this naivety towards how trauma shapes us that plays into the heart of Theroux’s problematic nature, and why his theoretical empathy can be so damaging.

Naturally, this isn’t to say that privileged people can’t also experience trauma; however, Theroux’s work never quite allows for him to personally share in his own experience. There is always a strange, and unnerving sense of distance, particularly in his episodes interviewing Black women.

For many podcasts, be that investigative or interview-based, much of the content relies on addressing past trauma, with much of that discussing gender, race and class. How, therefore, can those topics be fully and properly dissected under the scope of one of the most privileged sets of people in society?

Although Theroux may have unsuccessfully explored his own privilege, many other podcasts are able to successfully explore privilege in relation to trauma, with many giving unflinching, raw accounts of honest, lived experiences.

Moving Past Theoretical Empathy

In The Heart’s “Race Traitor” series, producer and host Phoebe Unter, a Jewish Lesbian, is confronted by her own participation in upholding white supremacy culture. Over the four-part series, Phoebe asks difficult, sometimes painful questions of how her whiteness has come to affect her friendships with Black people and people of colour, and how she navigates the world differently as a result of her race. With questions such as, “Who taught you to be white?” and recorded testimonials of Phoebe’s friends describing their struggles to reconcile with her whiteness, The Heart digs deep into what it truly means to confront your own participation in racism.

By centering the experiences of others in relation to Unter, the “Race Traitor” series aptly begins to undo the damage of theoretical empathy, forcing Unter to sit in the discomfort of how her privilege affects others, but also working through solutions to begin to undo the damage of white supremacy within her surrounding community.

Another podcast which shies away from theoretical empathy, exposing the true, unfiltered experiences and histories of indigenous people through indigenous voices is This Land. Framed around the assassination of a Cherokee leader in 1839, and a 1999 murder case, This Land documents one of the most significant moments in indigenous history to date, as the fate of indigenous ownership of ancestral lands hangs in the balance. Hosted by Oklahoma journalist and citizen of the Cherokee Nation, Rebecca Nagle provides a genuinely insightful and sympathetic look into the histories and perspectives of indigenous people.

Unlike hosts like Theroux, Nagle enters these private indigenous spaces with a noticeable care, and respect for these communities, an approach which is so rarely viewed in other investigative series. Rather than merely exploiting these individuals for their stories and perspectives, Nagle has vested interest in these people’s lives, which is clearly reflected in the quality of her story-telling.

In considering This Land’s clear-eyed, meticulous structure, it’s become clear that, when we rely on an intellectual Everyman like Theroux, we miss out on an important aspect of quality. Of course, generic, disattached podcast hosts can tell an adequate story, but there is always likely to be something missing.

It could be in key terms and phrases, which are so obvious and apparent to experts, but can be easily misappropriated by outsiders. It could be that quiet confidence in the voices of interviewees, as it is instead replaced by exasperated individuals trying repeatedly to explain, and failing to get through. It might even be losing out on those endearing, forgetful moments, where subjects are less poised, and more honest, failing to give into the fake grandeur of a podcast and its host.

A podcast which similarly benefits from the more relaxed, confident outlook of inclusive hosts discussing a subject they know intimately is Griefcast. Examining the human experience of grief and death, host Cariad Lloyd (someone who has also previously dealt with loss) creates a safe space for guests to express their grief in whatever way feels most comfortable, be that through humour, or through frank honest conversation about losing someone.

Through Griefcast, we see the importance of these collective emotional experiences, and the fulfillment it brings even to those going through their own unique journey through grief. When setting out to host podcasts like this, it is podcasts like Griefcast that demonstrate why we need representation across all forms and subjects.

A Takeaway for Listeners

In the same way we should allow indigenous people to retell their histories and narratives on their terms, we should similarly allow people who have dealt with loss and other trauma to tell that on their terms, with the host being a confident, and inclusive representative of these experiences.

In spite of its shortcomings, Theroux’s model is a popular one, and one that has remained a mainstay of British podcasts for many years. It’s a model which dominated the 90s documentary scene, and has quickly seeped into the investigative podcast realm too. However, it is ultimately a model of imagined empathy which belongs to a different era.

Although Theroux remains a comforting, familiar face to many, a podcast cannot solely rely on someone’s personality or likeability. It has to upkeep a quality and an interest which is difficult to maintain when relying on such a tired format. As podcasting continues to expand, and celebrities continually make half-hearted attempts at interviewing strangers, theoretical empathy will soon become a glaringly obvious aspect of podcasts to come.

Rather than giving in to the facade, it’s important for us to patronise the podcasts which actively fight this. The podcasts which bring in experts when it’s necessary, the podcasts which are honest about where their expertise lies, and the podcasts which feel nuanced and complex in their storytelling, rather than just a man in a room asking too many questions, and not listening nearly enough.