Millionaire Hosts, Left-Wing Takes: ‘The View’ Exposed as Media Echo Chamber

Paul Riverbank, 12/21/2025"The View" exemplifies the blurred line between news and opinion, serving both as entertainment and a battleground for polarized commentary—leaving audiences divided over whether they're receiving clarity or just more noise in America's political landscape.

“Landman,” a new drama with a Texas twang, wasted no time poking this particular bear. One of its characters jabs, not so delicately: “The View” is just a “bunch of pissed off millionaires bitching about how much they hate millionaires, Trump, and men, and you, and me, and everybody else they got a bee up their ass about.” For some viewers, that’s a straight shot of amusement. Others might bristle—perhaps both, in the span of a few seconds. Such are the times: today’s zinger is tomorrow’s talking point, never quite landing in the exact same spot twice.

To be clear, the show’s big names—Whoopi Goldberg, Joy Behar, the rest of the panel—aren’t exactly hurting for rent money. Forbes has publicly estimated their salaries in the multimillion-dollar range; these hosts sit comfortably atop the economic ladder. They’re quick to weigh in on everything from Trump’s latest musings to income injustice, gesturing toward the camera as if telegraphing directly to anyone who’ll listen (or argue). The question lurking in the margins—Who gets to speak for whom?—rarely gets answered, and rarely gets ignored. Viewers sense the irony, as did the “Landman” writers, and perhaps it’s the friction between privilege and protest that keeps the ratings buoyant.

Yet, this isn’t just a comedy of errors. “The View” attracts more than two million viewers on a typical day, eclipsed only by the likes of “The Price Is Right” in its time slot. With that reach comes influence—and a fair bit of criticism. Take, for example, Goldberg’s skeptical take on Trump’s military bonus pledge. She floated the idea (on live TV, no less) that his offer amounted to little more than a bribe: “If I make sure that the soldiers have what they need they’ll back me and what I want, see?” Elsewhere, Behar has warned—sometimes with a trembling urgency—that Trump could “end democracy” or manipulate the National Guard for personal power. She’s even suggested Wall Street conspiracy, arguing that Trump might tank the market so “his billionaire friends can swoop in and buy everything low.”

Oddly, reality rarely pauses to conform to commentary. The stock market, as anyone with a portfolio knows, soared past 48,000 back in December. That contradiction—between what’s worried aloud and what’s lived—rarely gets more than a muted acknowledgment on air.

The targets aren’t limited to the GOP. On one particularly spirited St. Patrick’s Day show, Goldberg mused that “any one of us could find ourselves being deported to some country we’ve never been.” It’s a heavy claim, left fluttering on the studio air, seldom pinned down by rigorous fact-checking or substantiated detail. Perhaps it’s fitting that “The View” can feel like two entirely different shows, depending on whether you tune in for the outrage or the punchlines.

Not that everything on set is camaraderie and coffee cake. Alyssa Farah Griffin, who tends to represent the conservative point of view, has admitted the strain of her position—confessing, at one point, that the stress has brought her to tears. That’s not a detail you’ll find in the show’s official synopsis, but it hints at the jagged air behind the bright set lights.

The bigger debate—shared facts, or the withering thereof—finds a sort of laboratory here. Beckoned in, audiences watch not to learn something new, but to see their existing opinions reflected, validated, or perhaps delivered as a joke. Critics call “The View” a warehouse for left-leaning misinformation; loyalists on the left, in a familiar refrain, insist the right is the real culprit. In truth, both rhetoric and reality suffer when a platform becomes an echo chamber instead of a town square. The “Landman” comparison—likening the viewing experience to enduring an embarrassing mishap in church—rings truer the more divided audiences become.

American TV isn’t shrinking from its reputation for noise and spectacle. “The View” operates both as a daily mirror and a blaring bullhorn, for better or worse. The hope might have been insight; the effect is often just more commentary. Still, millions keep their remote poised, waiting—maybe in vain—for the moment when clarity cuts through. Until then, the laughs and the groans will continue.

Somewhere between a headline and a punchline, American talk shows like “The View” have learned to embrace the chaos. The line separating news from spectacle has all but disappeared; it’s now a playground for hot takes in sharp suits, where facts share the stage—uneasily—with wisecracks that glide through the television’s glass barrier, electrifying millions sipping their second cup of morning coffee.“Landman,” a new drama with a Texas twang, wasted no time poking this particular bear. One of its characters jabs, not so delicately: “The View” is just a “bunch of pissed off millionaires bitching about how much they hate millionaires, Trump, and men, and you, and me, and everybody else they got a bee up their ass about.” For some viewers, that’s a straight shot of amusement. Others might bristle—perhaps both, in the span of a few seconds. Such are the times: today’s zinger is tomorrow’s talking point, never quite landing in the exact same spot twice.To be clear, the show’s big names—Whoopi Goldberg, Joy Behar, the rest of the panel—aren’t exactly hurting for rent money. Forbes has publicly estimated their salaries in the multimillion-dollar range; these hosts sit comfortably atop the economic ladder. They’re quick to weigh in on everything from Trump’s latest musings to income injustice, gesturing toward the camera as if telegraphing directly to anyone who’ll listen (or argue). The question lurking in the margins—Who gets to speak for whom?—rarely gets answered, and rarely gets ignored. Viewers sense the irony, as did the “Landman” writers, and perhaps it’s the friction between privilege and protest that keeps the ratings buoyant.Yet, this isn’t just a comedy of errors. “The View” attracts more than two million viewers on a typical day, eclipsed only by the likes of “The Price Is Right” in its time slot. With that reach comes influence—and a fair bit of criticism. Take, for example, Goldberg’s skeptical take on Trump’s military bonus pledge. She floated the idea (on live TV, no less) that his offer amounted to little more than a bribe: “If I make sure that the soldiers have what they need they’ll back me and what I want, see?” Elsewhere, Behar has warned—sometimes with a trembling urgency—that Trump could “end democracy” or manipulate the National Guard for personal power. She’s even suggested Wall Street conspiracy, arguing that Trump might tank the market so “his billionaire friends can swoop in and buy everything low.”Oddly, reality rarely pauses to conform to commentary. The stock market, as anyone with a portfolio knows, soared past 48,000 back in December. That contradiction—between what’s worried aloud and what’s lived—rarely gets more than a muted acknowledgment on air.The targets aren’t limited to the GOP. On one particularly spirited St. Patrick’s Day show, Goldberg mused that “any one of us could find ourselves being deported to some country we’ve never been.” It’s a heavy claim, left fluttering on the studio air, seldom pinned down by rigorous fact-checking or substantiated detail. Perhaps it’s fitting that “The View” can feel like two entirely different shows, depending on whether you tune in for the outrage or the punchlines.Not that everything on set is camaraderie and coffee cake. Alyssa Farah Griffin, who tends to represent the conservative point of view, has admitted the strain of her position—confessing, at one point, that the stress has brought her to tears. That’s not a detail you’ll find in the show’s official synopsis, but it hints at the jagged air behind the bright set lights.The bigger debate—shared facts, or the withering thereof—finds a sort of laboratory here. Beckoned in, audiences watch not to learn something new, but to see their existing opinions reflected, validated, or perhaps delivered as a joke. Critics call “The View” a warehouse for left-leaning misinformation; loyalists on the left, in a familiar refrain, insist the right is the real culprit. In truth, both rhetoric and reality suffer when a platform becomes an echo chamber instead of a town square. The “Landman” comparison—likening the viewing experience to enduring an embarrassing mishap in church—rings truer the more divided audiences become.American TV isn’t shrinking from its reputation for noise and spectacle. “The View” operates both as a daily mirror and a blaring bullhorn, for better or worse. The hope might have been insight; the effect is often just more commentary. Still, millions keep their remote poised, waiting—maybe in vain—for the moment when clarity cuts through. Until then, the laughs and the groans will continue.