PRIMARY
SOURCE
What I Learned About Media Rage After Getting
Fired From Fox
I was fired from my job on Decision Desk after calling
the election for Biden in 2020. The funny thing is I should have seen it
coming.
By CHRIS
STIREWALT
08/28/2022
07:00 AM EDT
Updated:
08/28/2022 02:49 PM EDT
Chris
Stirewalt is a senior fellow at the American Enterprise Institute. Previously,
he was political editor of Fox News Channel.
https://www.politico.com/news/magazine/2022/08/28/fox-news-trump-journalism-00053991
My first
meeting in Roger Ailes’ boardroom of doom was on Election Day 2010.
At the
time, I was the network’s new political editor. Republicans were poised to
deliver a serious walloping to President Barack Obama and roll back the
Democrats’ doughty majorities in both houses of Congress. The GOP was in a
position to score major wins in governors’ mansions and statehouses from coast to
coast.
The second
floor of the News Corp headquarters on Sixth Avenue in New York was a hive of
excited optimism. With Republicans looking forward to big wins, we knew
viewership would be enormous that night. I was invited to the regular afternoon
executive meeting for the first time so I could lay out the expectations we had
on the Decision Desk and the politics team for what would transpire that night.
I had only been with the company for about four months, and I was sweating it
hard as I sat there at the far end from Ailes at a conference table roughly the
size of a World War II aircraft carrier. The meeting was packed. Not only were
executives from New York crowding in, but people like my boss Bill Sammon, who
would have ordinarily joined the afternoon meeting by phone, were attending in
person.
It felt
like a steam bath in there, and I was running on about two hours of sleep and
too many energy drinks. I had been up all night finishing the cards that we
would use on the desk and the anchors would use on-air for quick reference
guides on each race. They all had to be perfect (they still weren’t), but I
couldn’t make my colleagues look foolish quoting my bad data. Plus, these were
the five-inch by eight-inch little life rafts that I could hold on to as I
tried to run the rapids of the many, many calls we were going to have to make
that night. How many Republican votes in 2004 in Ozaukee County? When did the
incumbent win his first term? What did the last polls say? Didn’t her husband
used to have that seat?
After four
straight days and nights of data obsession and rehearsals, I had to now appear
to be a normal human in front of a room full of New Yorkers to whom I assume I
appeared to be a sweaty bumpkin.
By the way,
TV networks rehearse election nights with dummy numbers. The Decision Desk
makes calls based on the pretend results to simulate the workflow and pinch
points of the big night. If you’re making 100 calls, the hours between 9 p.m.
and 11 p.m. are bound to be chaotic. Then the election night team uses the
practice calls to test the graphics, lighting, anchor and guest positions, and
communications. After six cycles of working with that crew at Fox, we really
learned how to make it hum by the end of my time at the network. But in 2010, I
was clueless.
So there I
was, exhausted, tweaking on taurine and looking around the room at people who
had been with the company from the beginning. I was feeling very
self-conscious. There was even one guy who dyed the temples of his hair white
like Paulie Walnuts from The Sopranos. The smell of aftershave and coffee was
making me queasy. But I was the only one feeling that way.
The mood
was jocular, and Ailes was having fun doing what he liked best in the world:
busting balls. The language of Fox News in those days was definitely
locker-room swagger. Men and women alike tried to match Ailes’s tough-guy
energy. His top lieutenant, Bill Shine, carried it off perfectly. He grew up on
Long Island, the son of a police officer. Shine didn’t talk too much, but he
made the words count. And like Ailes, he never missed a chance to crack on
someone, usually in an avuncular way. Razzing people over their teams, their
neighborhoods or whatever was at hand was the language of belonging on Ailes’s
crew. Bill O’Reilly was the avatar for these folks: suburban New York, Roman
Catholic, traditional values but not necessarily socially conservative — the
New York Post, not the New York Times.
I was
definitely out of place. I had never been to New York as an adult until I
started going up for Fox. I knew about as much about the TV business as a horse
knows about making a saddle. It’s possible I was wearing a bow tie. As the execs
went around the table offering the boss their updates, I rehearsed my lines in
my head. Sammon teed me up, and I started racing through time zones and
expected times for calls and generic ballot trends until Ailes interrupted to
say, “What’s your number?”
The number,
of course, was how many seats I forecast Republicans to win that night. “Our
best guess is 64 seats, sir.” Ailes, mouth set like a bulldog and eyes staring
through the back of my head, said, “Dick Morris says it could be one hundred.
Why is yours so low?”
I figured
Ailes, a smart man, knew that Morris, a network contributor at the time, was a
joke. Morris had not yet reached the comic heights in his pronouncements that
he would in 2012 and beyond, but the former Clinton advisor turned Republican
Pollyanna was already pretty clearly making stuff up.
In 1874,
after Republicans lost the whole South at the end of Reconstruction and during
a financial panic and with a scandal-plagued GOP administration in the White
House, they lost 96 seats. Obamacare was unpopular and all, but there just
weren’t enough competitive seats on the post-1994 map to make such a number
possible.
Morris said
goofy stuff like that, I assumed, because it got him on TV. Sean Hannity in
particular would bring Morris on to say that the red wave was a Krakatoa-sized
tsunami that would change politics forever. They, and some other analysts who I
previously thought were more principled and smarter than Morris, used the same
routine for the 2012 presidential election. That time they made preposterous
claims not only that Mitt Romney was obviously going to win, but that it would
be by a landslide. The best I could say for Romney in that cycle was that he
had a path to a narrow victory by picking off a couple of Blue Wall states if
he could turn things around in Ohio, where he had been sucking wind all summer.
But a landslide? Pish posh.
That
100-seat number in 2010 was just hype to juice ratings, and Ailes had to know
that. Right? He was messing with the new guy. Right?
But I
wasn’t sure. I didn’t say what I thought: Morris is feasting on the carcass of
journalism like a lamprey eel on a dead nurse shark. But maybe Ailes believed
the hype. I instead carefully explained how I had worked with the all-stars in
our then-great Brainroom to check every seat and every estimate to make sure we
were on the money. Ailes left me with “You’d better hope you’re right ...” and
I walked out in the herd of suits in a haze.
I had just
disputed the maximum leader of Fox News and talked down Republican chances in a
room full of people flying high on the thought of a ratings bonanza. I would
eventually learn to say what I was thinking, lampreys and all. It served you
better with Ailes, who in those days appreciated honest disagreement on his team.
It was partly his scorpions-in-a-bottle management style, but also that he
genuinely seemed to think it was better to air out disagreements. Bust balls or
be busted.
I sat on
those House races like a mother hen all night until we were able to make the
call for the 64th net pickup for Republicans sometime in the wee small hours.
We hit the number right on the screws, and I had delivered on my called shot in
the boardroom. I rode adrenaline through a day and a night of on-air hits and
then slept the whole way home on the train.
The lesson
I learned was that Hannity, Morris and the rest of the crew of the crimson tide
were certainly engaging in wishful thinking, but certainly also motivated
reasoning. The story they were telling was good for ratings or the frequency of
their appearances. They wanted it to be true because they wanted Republicans to
win, but keeping viewers keyed up about the epochal victory close at hand was
an appealing incentive to exaggerate the GOP chances. It was good for them to raise
expectations, but it wasn’t good for the party they were rooting for.
Early in an
election cycle, crafty partisans want to play up their side’s chances. It helps
their candidate recruitment and fundraising and may lead vulnerable incumbents
on the other side to just go ahead and retire. But at the end of a cycle, the
preferred message whenever possible should be that the race is
tight-tight-tight — every vote could be the winning vote, so don’t forget to
cast your ballot. Ask Hillary Clinton how overconfidence can depress turnout as
marginal voters opt to stay home. It occurred to me in 2010 and was confirmed
to me in 2012 that despite all that Fox’s detractors said about the network
being a mouthpiece for the Republican Party, the two organizations had fundamentally
different aims.
Good
politics is often bad TV. As much as we rightly lament the decline of the
American electorate’s aspirations and expectations, at least a plurality of
voters still clearly prefer competency, cooperation and decency. And what could
be more boring than that?
As a
journalist, I believe that what is wrong with my vocation and the industry in
which I work is harming Americans left, right and center. Major players in the
news business are abusing their privileges and shirking their duties, and we
all pay the price. The agenda at many outlets is to move away from even
aspirational fairness and balance and toward shared anger and the powerful
emotional connections it can create.
Unable to
sell large, diverse audiences to advertisers, news outlets increasingly focus
on developing highly habituated users. To cultivate the kind of intense
readers, viewers or listeners necessary to make the addiction model profitable,
media companies need consumers to have strong feelings. Fear, resentment and
anger work wonders. It helps news outlets create deep emotional connections to
users not just as users of a product, but as members of the same tribe.
Reporters
increasingly disdain the old virtues of fairness and balance as “bothsidesism,”
reimagining the ancient vice of bias as something honorable. Opinion pages
become more homogeneous. Story selections become more predictable. Most
ominously, post-journalism produces stifling groupthink inside news
organizations and serious consequences for journalists who dissent.
What we
think of as “bad news” can score like gangbusters if it is scary and
anger-inducing. But news that is bad for your audience’s ideological in-groups
is clickbait kryptonite. In such a competitive marketplace, riling people up
against the other side isn’t enough. You’ve also got to create a safe space for
consumers to plop down and contentedly contemplate ads for beet-based nutrient
powders, reverse mortgages and copper underpants. If you challenge their
assumptions or suggest that their avatars in the culture war are wrong or
losing, they may leave for competitors who offer more complete protection from
harsh realities.
Despite a
successful decade as politics editor at the Fox News Channel, I got canned
after very vocal and very online viewers — including the then-president of the
United States — became furious when our Decision Desk was the first to project
that Joe Biden would win the former GOP stronghold of Arizona in 2020. (A FOX
News spokesperson at the time said the layoff was a part of post-election
restructuring, but would not comment specifically on Stirewalt’s role, citing
employee confidentiality.)
The call
was the handwriting on the wall for Trump’s chances, and it delighted Democrats
almost as much as it infuriated MAGA land. Regardless of who won, we were proud
to have beaten the competition yet again and defended the title network promos
had given us as “the best-in-class Decision Desk.”
But even in
the four years since the previous presidential election, Fox viewers had become
even more accustomed to flattery and less willing to hear news that challenged
their expectations. Me serving up green beans to viewers who had been spoon-fed
ice cream sundaes for years came as a terrible shock to their systems.
When I went
on-air in 2020 to defend the Decision Desk’s call that Joe Biden would win
Arizona, I was supremely confident. The Decision Desk team that director Arnon
Mishkin had built was the best in the business. And we had better survey data
than the competition, thanks to our partnership with the Associated Press and
the National Opinion Research Center.
Former Fox
News politics editor Chris Stirewalt is sworn in at a hearing by the House
select committee investigating the Jan. 6 attack on the U.S. Capitol, Monday,
June 13, 2022 on Capitol Hill in Washington. | Jonathan Ernst/AP Photo
The irony
for Fox was that the call that so infuriated Trump and so many viewers was
possible only because Rupert Murdoch had four years earlier yanked Fox out of
the consortium of other networks paying for exit polls. He sure wasn’t wrong.
The exit polls were bad and getting worse.
So Arnon
& Company built a better mousetrap, and that was even before we found out
that the coronavirus pandemic would increase the share of mail-in ballots by as
much as 50 percent. You can’t do an exit poll if nobody is exiting the polls,
so while our competitors were scrambling to put together a system to
accommodate the change, we had already tested our superior product in the 2018
midterms. It turned out to be a capability that the network would regret
developing.
Amid the
geyser of anger in the wake of the Arizona call, Senator Kevin Cramer,
Republican of North Dakota, called for my firing and accused me of a
“cover-up.” Covering up what, exactly? We didn’t have any ballots to count and
we didn’t have any electoral votes to award. We were just some guys with a cool
computer, lots of polling data, and a lot of nicotine gum and coffee. But if
you’ve been living comfortably in the climate-controlled emotions of post-journalism,
when the real thing comes along, it’s a shock to the system.
There are
lots of books and articles that talk about how the news media is hurting select
groups: Republicans or Democrats or populists or minority groups or the family
or whatever suits you. But that kind of blame-casting just alienates us
further, replicating the core defect of the news media that critics are
attacking. There is no trophy for being more harmed by our lazy, alienating
press.
We’re all
losers in this one.
Excerpted
from Broken News: How the Media Rage Machine Divides America and How to Fight
Back by Chris Stirewalt. Copyright © 2022. Available from Center Street, an
imprint of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
CLARIFICATION:
This report has been updated to reflect that a FOX News spokesperson at the
time said Chris Stirewalt was laid off as part of post-election restructuring,
but would not comment specifically on his role, citing employee
confidentiality. The headline has also been updated.

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