Some Thoughts on Podcasting
I’ve approached podcasts, until now, entirely as a listener. And, I suppose, that’s how most people–or, at least, most of us who listen to podcasts–think about them. (I have to say, I find non-podcast people increasingly difficult to understand.)
I, on the other hand, have so much self-confidence and am so certain that I can do anything I want, that I find it hard to hear a podcast without thinking to myself “You know, I could do that.”
And, before I even get around to trying to start a podcast, I wanted to take this opportunity–and this space–to formalize my thoughts on podcasts as a listener. Listeners are, after all, the people who decide if a podcast is good. . . or not.
So, let me say I listen to a lot of podcasts that are professionally produced radio shows from NPR or PRI, but balance them with completely amateur productions. (One that I’ve just recently started enjoying, The Extra Mile, is moderated by a guy who makes his recordings while he jogs and consists just of recordings that listeners make and send in.) So, we’re not talking only about radio shows here.
Here’s what I think I’ve figured out about what makes a podcast good:
- A podcaster who knows how to stay in the background. I still don’t even know the name of the guy who does My History Can Beat Up Your Politics, and love the show. In contrast, the guy who does Run, Run, Live isn’t able to interview notable personalities without talking about himself. Guess which of the two podcasts I’m still subscribed to?
- A healthy dose of personality. There’s something intimate about having a person’s disembodied voice in your ears, or in your car. So, while I’m generally not too interested in what’s happening in your life, I want you to let your personality come through. The History of Rome does a genius job of blending dry, objective history with enough personality to make you welcome his voice back. . . without knowing anything about him at all.
- A real sense of focus. I’m a topical podcast listener. I listen to podcasts because I’m interested in whatever it is that they’re going to tell me. That’s part of why I want the podcast host to keep him or herself in the background. And that’s why I’m still angry that the geeks of the Geeks in Running Shoes podcast have quit running for the winter, apparently. Not because they’ve quit, but because they continue podcasting. . . but inevitably about other things. I did not invite them into my head to discuss their personal lives, and I think it’s rude of them to do it. (The guys from The Sporkful are also guilty of ranting off-topic.)
- A sense of what they know. . . and what they don’t. I don’t have the ‘negative examples’ that seem to pepper the other items for this, because, so far, I’ve been lucky. I really enjoy, though, when people say “I suppose” or “I don’t know, but I think. . .” Because I’d rather have a BS answer that’s clearly recognizable as one than a BS ‘fact.’ Tom and Ray of CarTalk are great for this. ”We don’t know anything about this, but that won’t stop us from giving an answer. . .”
- A sense of fun, a positive feeling. I’m only adding this because I still listen to Common Sense with Dan Carlin. . . but get frustrated at the feeling of pessimism that pervades the show. After most episodes–unless I listen while jogging, because that burns stress faster than the show produces it–my personal level of stress is higher than at the beginning of the show. Really exemplary in this category are CarTalk and The Sporkful. I’d love for any podcast I do to have as much fun as theirs do.
So, as I think about starting a podcast–and I have a number of ideas–I at least seem to have a recipe for what would make me the perfect podcast. Does anyone have any factors to add? Have I forgotten or overrated anything?


