Where'd your audience go?

There was a time not long ago when the entire country, no matter your politics or profession, could share a common reference point. You knew who was on Letterman last night. You probably caught the monologue from Leno or Carson. Even if you didn’t watch it live, it was part of the conversation. It anchored the culture.

That era is officially over.

The news that The Late Show with Stephen Colbert is facing cancellation didn’t come as a shock so much as a confirmation. Late night, a show that was THE focal point for pop culture just a decade or two ago, is now something most people don't spend a lot of time thinking about. Colbert still won his time slot and booked A-list guests. But somehow that just doesn’t matter anymore. The landscape is just too fragmented to support a $100mln a year budget, and being the biggest fish in a shrinking pond isn’t a viable business model.

As Nate Silver recently put it,  “Outside of sports and perhaps Taylor Swift, there’s really no mass culture anymore.”   We're not all watching the same shows, not reading the same papers, not listening to the same voices. Instead, we’ve entered an era of decentralized information and culture that is wildly different from the landscape that existed when I was a kid.

That’s not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, it’s opened the door to some of the most interesting and original voices we’ve ever had access to. The most influential interviews in America aren’t happening on network TV anymore,  they’re happening on podcasts hosted in spare bedrooms. Dozens of independent creators now command audiences larger than any of the late shows. But with the shift to a more fragmented, decentralized media landscape comes a problem we haven’t solved yet: how do we fund the kind of meaningful, deeply researched content we used to rely on institutions to provide?

The traditional media model — ad revenue plus bundled subscriptions — isn’t built for today’s ecosystem. And the big tech platforms that replaced it are optimized for short-form, high-frequency, algorithmically supercharged content that prioritizes engagement over depth, spectacle over substance.

The bottom line is that social media platforms are amazing for growth, but terrible monetization engines for the vast majority of creators. A YouTube channel with 5,000 subscribers might earn you $8 a month. A viral post with 100,000 views might cover lunch. And if you do decide you want to slow down and spend a week on a single story, the platform gets to decide who sees your work.

Creators are stuck grinding out disposable content just to keep the algorithm’s attention, instead of being able to take a breath and go deep. And readers, in turn, are stuck scrolling through noise when they’re desperate for something more credible and informed.

At LedeWire, we’re betting on a simpler, more honest model - give readers a way to access the information they want, and support the writers they trust. No subscriptions. No bundles. No ads. Just a clean, direct exchange of value between curious readers and creative minds.

Social platforms still have a vital role to fill as lead generators and a way to reach a broader audience. But when a creator decides to pause the content treadmill and actually build something lasting, there needs to be a home for that. That’s what we’re trying to build. A place where important work gets the support it deserves and where independent voices don’t have to sacrifice depth to survive.

The struggles of mass media isn’t just a story about network TV. It’s a story about what comes next.