Since the first hit podcasts 15 to 20 years ago, it has been almost impossible to track the exact size of your audience. Now Bill Simmons, the “podfather” himself, calls out dishonesty in the industry.
Simmons would know. Since 2020, Simmons has contributed to leading Spotify's expansion into podcasting and was promoted this year for the head of the conversation strategy for the Swedish audio streaming company. At Spotify and Grantland before, Simmons has long been one of the most important believers in podcasting as the future of digital content consumption. Simmons also cut their teeth out of one of the most popular shows in space that goes back to ESPN.
As part of The Hollywood reporter'S “Podcast Power Players” series this week, Simmons is quoted accuses “some of the larger shows” to “publicly lie” about the size of their audience and the scope of their corporate partnerships.
“I would say some of the larger shows lies publicly about their shops, lies about their podcast numbers and lies about their YouTube -Subs (by paying these U -boats),” said Simmons to Simmons Th. “I can't believe how many people about this stuff are dishonest.”
For years, the top votes in the young industry have asked for a trustworthy metric to evaluate their space. The medium (and its name) began as a reference to RSS feeds that beamed audio on Apple iPods. From there, RSS publishing platforms and audio players came out at almost every large tech company. The audience migrated from the radio and about talk television in podcasts over time, but they have applied them everywhere: Spotify, Apple, Google, Amazon. Far from Nielsen's stop on television habits there is no technology that follows the podcast consumption of people.
Since Tikok stormed on the scene with a vertical video, many of the aspiring shows have shown a strong video component on YouTube. This enables them to become viral through social media algorithms and to loyal to a new audience. YouTube seems to be a specifically measurable platform. The number of subscribers is right there on the landing page of every channel and under each of its videos.
However, Simmons does not buy these numbers either. Long before podcasting grew up on YouTube, large content manufacturers on the platform were accused of buying subscribers. It is not difficult to find websites on which you can pay bots for a channel with fake subscribers. Of course, these bots will not watch the complete videos. Instead, it is about inflating numbers for potential advertising partners and get the YouTube algorithm to prioritize their channel in the users by looking as if a channel is more popular than it is. A large podcaster that pulls this stunt as Simmons suggests would hardly surprise.
Combine all of this together and large corporate networks fly a little blind. You probably have access to more metrics than the average reporter or industries insider, but even a more trusting company like Edison measures his podcast diagrams by questioning the listeners about the shows they consume. So companies such as Siriusxm, Iheartmedia or Amazon who have spent Fortune licenses in recent years have been working in recent years. When the offers, as Simmons determines, are signed, like any other contract that is reported publicly, they have to be inflated from a Star Quarterback to a film director.
None of what Simmons says has not been whispered in business for years. However, it is remarkable to see one of the greatest voices and managers in the area of the recording to call them.
The irony is, of course, that Simmons' bosses at Spotify were also accused of playing their app to artificially placing their podcast diagrams and the competition for reducing them on the wrestling shows. Without a central clearing house in which podcasts are distributed or pursued, this problem continues. And since the industry becomes recognized and licensed by large companies in the mainstream, the tensions among managers such as Simmons will continue to be continued.