Gatekeepers are a Cheat Code

Last week Shannon Sharpe uploaded a great interview with Dave Portnoy, it was one of the few times I've heard Dave talk about Barstool's early days and where he thinks media is headed.

One thing really stood out to me: even in the age of algorithms and direct-to-audience content, gatekeepers still play a crucial role in launching creators to the next level.

Barstool is a perfect example of how this works. They keep losing their biggest stars, but that's actually the point.

Jenna Marbles, Alex Cooper, Pat McAfee, and now Taylor Lewan, Will Compton, and Caleb Presley.

When these creators leave, they get huge deals from Sirius, ESPN, gambling companies, and other major players.

Portnoy straight up admits: "We go into it knowing we'll find talent that's not getting enough attention, help them blow up, and then they get stolen away. It works for everyone."

He hates losing them because finding hidden gems is hard. But here's what's interesting: Barstool isn't trying to be the final destination. They're the bridge.

The money is obviously huge, but there's something deeper happening: gatekeepers provide credibility at scale.

Being successful on social media just doesn't carry the same weight as having a major platform vouch for you. You can have millions of followers, but you're still "just" an online creator until someone with real institutional power says you're worth investing in. That's what separates you from the endless sea of people trying to make it online.

Look at Jake Paul: he went from making YouTube videos to fighting on pay-per-view boxing. Think about comedians with huge TikTok followings. What's their real goal? A Netflix special. Even though Netflix isn't traditional TV, it's still a gatekeeper that can take you from "internet famous" to actually famous.

Most creators start with rejection stories, then go "Fine, I'll just do my own thing," like Shane Gillis after the SNL situation. But even after their falling out, he was still willing to come back and host the show years later, after he'd already become successful on his own.

There are tons of funny TikTok comedians, but very few get Netflix specials or SNL spots. Getting there proves you've crossed from "talented person with a phone" to "professional entertainer." A SoundCloud rapper might be incredibly talented, but signing with a label transforms how the industry and fans see them.

Today's algorithms have totally changed things. If your content is good, it will find an audience. But here's what algorithms can't do: they can't give you the infrastructure, resources, and credibility that established platforms and networks provide.

While more people can build audiences independently, most will reach their goals faster with backing from someone who handles the business & ops (selling ads, editing content, making clips). There's so much work behind quality content. Being able to focus just on creating lets you perfect your craft without drowning in logistics.

Even ESPN is adapting to be more talent-friendly. Look at Shannon Sharpe and Stephen A. Smith. These guys have ESPN deals AND their own shows where they can be unfiltered with their own advertisers.

It's brilliant because ESPN gets their talent during work hours, but doesn't lock them into exclusivity that kills their personal growth.

I'm honestly shocked that from a business perspective, ESPN doesn't just say, "You represent ESPN, so any podcast you do belongs to ESPN."

But, when you're a super star who brings in viewers, you ultimately get to write your own rules.

In the end, people want creative freedom but they also want to be seen as legit. Nobody wants to stay in that amateur category forever. Despite all the disruption and independence we celebrate, it's this basic desire for approval that guarantees gatekeepers and tastemakers will always matter.

Stay tuned for my next article, where I'll break down another aspect of the show that stood out: Every podcast is optimized for clips, how long can this format last?