Another day, another headline about a high-profile Black man echoing conspiracy theories or cozying up to right-wing ideologies that actively harm the very communities he claims to represent. Whether it’s praising white supremacists, questioning the shape of the Earth, or sharing antisemitic rhetoric, the pattern is clear—and it’s deeply troubling.

Most recently, Ish went head-to-head with his fellow co-host, scholar Marc Lamont-Hill on a recent episode of the wildly popular Joe Budden Podcast about a myriad of topics, whether phrenology is a legitimate science that was used to measure Black people’s intelligence, gender wars and even the legitimacy of the Earth’s round shape (Ish claims to think there’s credence to flat earth theories).  

Why does this keep happening? The go-to explanation is often political confusion or misinformation. But the truth is far more layered. This recurring behavior has roots in fame-fueled ego, patriarchal entitlement, and a specific kind of misogyny that makes many of these men vulnerable to right-wing radicalization.

Let’s start with the obvious: celebrity status often creates isolation. The higher one climbs, the fewer people they have around them who are willing—or allowed—to hold them accountable. Surrounded by yes-men and disconnected from the real-world consequences of their actions, many Black male celebrities become particularly susceptible to content that validates their perceived victimhood. This is particularly evidenced on the Joe Budden Podcast where when the men, namely Ish, are challenged with fact-based arguments, he yells, diverts or even shuts down completely like a petulant child. 

Right-wing conspiracy rhetoric also offer exactly that: stories in which they are the persecuted heroes, misunderstood geniuses, or rebels “speaking truth” to liberal agendas.

But what’s rarely discussed is how misogyny acts as the gateway. Much of this rhetoric is rooted in deep resentment toward women, especially Black women. It’s no coincidence that many of the exact public figures parroting conspiracy theories also dismiss feminism, promote dominance over women, or claim to be “protecting” masculinity from imagined threats. Once misogyny is accepted as truth, other dangerous ideas—about government, race, history, and identity—are quick to follow.

Then there’s the role of social media. Algorithms are designed to feed users increasingly extreme content based on their interests. A celebrity expressing frustration with mainstream media or feminism can quickly be funneled into conspiracy-laced videos and radical communities that validate and intensify those beliefs. These platforms reward outrage, and misinformation cloaked in empowerment spreads quickly.

What makes this particularly dangerous is the influence these men wield. Their voices shape narratives for millions. When they align with hateful ideologies—whether intentionally or through ignorance—they normalize them. And in doing so, they create a ripple effect that reaches young, impressionable Black boys who see them as role models.

So, where do we go from here?

First, we name the issue: this isn’t just about politics or press freedom. It’s about unchecked misogyny, algorithmic radicalization, and the failure of fame to protect, not distort—the responsibility that comes with a platform. We also need to create more intentional spaces for Black men to confront grief, alienation, and insecurity without falling prey to harmful ideologies masked as empowerment.

If we don’t, the next generation will continue to conflate rebellion with recklessness—and “truth” with toxic masculinity.

This is more than a culture war. It’s a crisis of accountability. And if we’re serious about protecting our communities, we can’t keep looking the other way.