The Guide #257: What we lose when a medium built for the ear surrenders to the camera
In this week’s newsletter: As platforms chase subscribers, podcasts are losing their off‑screen charm, leaving listeners to wonder whether the intimacy of audio can survive the studio lights
This has been the year that podcasting properly, unapologetically “pivoted to video”. Yes, it’s been a progression that has been in the making for quite a while, arguably ever since Joe Rogan first trained a webcam at himself and whichever guest he was smoking weed with in his studio back in 2009 – but in 2026 the medium’s transformation from purely aural to audio/visual (often with more of an emphasis on the visual) is truly complete.
In January, Netflix started broadcasting video versions of popular podcasts from The Ringer, iHeartMedia, Barstool and more, as well as continuing to make video pods of their own. That landgrab was a slightly desperate response to YouTube’s phenomenal success with visualised pods; after becoming the preferred podcast platform for most Americans in 2024, it managed the same feat in the UK in 2026, overtaking Spotify. No wonder, then, that Spotify has – as part of a wider push to get people sticking to its platform for pods – continued to bolster viewing capabilities for its own pods too.
Meanwhile, more and more podcast creators are running into the arms of video, wheeling cameras into studios that often resemble an Ikea showroom circa 2008, with their felt throw cushions and chairs that are absurdly poorly suited to facing someone and having an actual conversation with them. (I’m concerned about what all this pivoting to video is doing to these poor podcasters’ backs; they all seem to be sitting so uncomfortably, swivelling between guest and camera.)
You might have guessed from the slightly sniffy tone that I’m not entirely on board with podcasting’s video pivot. Podcasts have long had a clearly defined role in my life: they are there for when I’m ironing, on my commute, at the gym or the ever-shrinking bit of time not glued to a screen. Adding video complicates that. If people are performing to camera as much as to microphone, you start to feel like watching them is the only way to get the whole picture. And some podcasters are just not suited to camera: I don’t want their true gift for audio to be diluted by them having to constantly think about the lens pointed squarely at their face. Let podcasts be podcasts, I say!
But lately I’ve realised that my King Canute stance against this tide is futile. I need to learn to stop worrying and love – well, tolerate at least – the video pod. This is a permanent revolution – and one that does have its advantages. Making a show visual as well as aural allows podcasters to clip up their best bits and share them for potential new fans on social media, a crucial arrow in the quiver of smaller podcasts that lack the marketing budgets of their bigger competitors. It feels a bit churlish of me to deny them that out of sheer podcast purism.
Worse still for my militant anti-video pod stance, I have to shamefully concede that some of them work pretty well visually. Who would have thunk it, but it turns out that comedians, in particular, are good with a camera pointed at them: I’ll regularly try to catch a good moment from Elis James and John Robins that I enjoyed in audio form on video later on – just to see the redness of John’s face (pictured above), and the reality of his contempt as he embarks on a white-hot rage at having a less than perfect credit score rating, say.
Other podcasts, for example some of the Ringer stable, are starting to skilfully knit in clips and stills from the shows and films they are talking about, which is definitely an improvement over watching two people talk at each other over a desk for an hour. (The Rest is History’s own attempts – flashing up the odd picture of a historical figure mid chat – is a little less slick but just about does the job.)
I still have quibbles. Many of these video podcasts will never look to me like anything other than bargain-basement daytime chatshows, causing them to shed the aura of their audio form. And I will never stop being infuriated by podcasters who forget that they have a listening audience as well as one watching on a screen. Gesticulations are completely useless to those who can’t see them, and please, if something funny happens in the studio, explain it to listeners rather than just bursting into guffaws and moving on. Maddening!
What I’m trying to say is: I still want most podcasts to stay podcasts, nattering away amiably in my ear while I’m at the supermarket. But I will concede that the video podcast isn’t a totally terrible idea, particularly when set against, say, AI-generated podcasts. But that’s a rant for another newsletter …
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