How Podcast Hosts Became Our Relationship Experts

At 23 years old, Mackenzie Jaquish moved into a spacious apartment in Seattle with her long-term boyfriend. "We were dreaming about the future, planning the next 20 years of our lives together," she says. One night while doing dishes in her new home, Jaquish discovered the relationship podcast "Call Her Daddy," hosted by Alex Cooper.

Jaquish was dazzled by Cooper's stories about her single life in New York. "I was living vicariously through her," she says. "I remember her telling this story about taking the C train uptown to this clinic to get tested for chlamydia. At the time, I thought, 'That's hilarious, what a different life.'"

The more she soaked in the comedic (and sometimes crude) gospel of Cooper and then-cohost Sofia Franklyn, however, the more she began to question whether her partner was "the one."

The episode that changed everything was titled "Why They Won't F*ck You," and it laid out various answers to that very question. "It opened my eyes to the fact that something was wrong in my relationship," she tells PS. "After that episode, every step I took was with the awareness that there is no world in which I finish my 20s with this person. I needed to get out."

So, she did. Now the 28-year-old comedian is living a life reminiscent of the one she heard on Cooper's show. "I'm single, living in New York, and, yes, I have taken the C train to get tested for chlamydia," Jaquish laughs, adding: "For the record, I was negative."

Moraya Seeger DeGeare, MA, LMFT, is a relationship expert, couples therapist, and co-founder of BFF Therapy.

Corey Yeager, PhD, LMFT, is a psychotherapist and relationship expert.

In her own words, "a random blonde girl with a podcast" changed the trajectory of Jaquish's life — and she isn't alone. Podcasts that dole out relationship advice are topping charts, and, sometimes, changing lives.

The first relationship podcast I ever listened to was "U Up?," hosted by comedian Jared Freid and Jordana Abraham-Marinelli. The podcast's initial format consisted of the hosts answering emails from love-sick listeners. It started in 2017, and the market for that kind of advice has only expanded since.

Cooper's podcast broke records when she landed a $60-million Spotify deal and, as of this writing, her show has been hanging out in the top ten on the streamer's top podcasts chart. "The Viall Files" with former Bachelor Nick Viall has exceeded 250 million downloads, according to a rep, and Vulture recently described it as "'Meet the Press' for reality TV."

Shows like "Couples Therapy" and "We're Having Gay Sex" serve as shiny solutions to problems like the loneliness epidemic and the state of dating apps. The formats vary, but matters of the heart are always the crux. For many, these hosts have become close parasocial confidants and trusted counsel.

Yet, none of these people are licensed therapists or have robust psychology backgrounds. So, how did they become so trusted? And what happens when we take their advice instead of a therapist's?

This question has plagued couples therapist Moraya Seeger DeGeare, MA, LMFT, for a while now. She's studied the science and psychology of relationships for years, yet reality stars and comedians are out here spitballing and getting clicks on clicks. But honestly, she gets it. "These people who are not licensed, they can share their life experiences and guidance, but they can also act like a hot mess in a way that a so-called 'expert' wouldn't normally present themselves," DeGeare says. Essentially, they can talk about their own mistakes without losing credibility. This helps listeners feel "less shame," she says.

If you feel someone is in the relationship trenches with you, it gives you permission to look more closely at your own struggles. "If a therapist gives you that same advice — even if they say 'I've been there, too' — it can feel like they're these perfect beings coming down to us humans," DeGeare says. But, with a non-professional, that same kind of sentiment feels more natural.

"Vulnerability sparks vulnerability," Freid tells PS. The "U Up?" cohost says combining personal experience with empathy is how you build trust. "Knowing that you're not alone is valuable; I let people know that I've had experiences that I wish I'd handled differently," he adds. "Any letter I get, I can understand why they're going through what they're going through, because I'm going through those things too."

So often, when people make perceived mistakes in dating, shame may overtake accountability or introspection. But when someone they trust has made those same mistakes, it mitigates shame and grants permission to assess the situation — and that's when real change can happen, DeGeare says.

Jaquish agrees that this relatability is a game-changer. "Every therapist I've ever had, I've never been able to say, 'Oh, you're falling apart in the same way I am,'" Jaquish says. "Whereas Alex Cooper is constantly falling apart. She's always failing and trying new things publicly."

Cooper's story about getting tested for chlamydia normalized the experience for Jaquish. Similarly, when she heard Cooper open up about avoiding sex with a long-term partner, it let her know it was OK to unpack her own feelings on the subject and, in turn, open up to others about it too. "If she can say it on a podcast where millions of people are listening to her, then I can definitely talk about it with my best friend," Jaquish says.

Another reason these podcast hosts are eclipsing experts? They're entertaining.

The shows have a brain-candy effect that even DeGeare has experienced. "I love Esther Perel's podcast and she gives such great advice — but I listen to a few episodes, and I'm good," she says. "It doesn't have the same feeling as a Netflix binge."

The shows sometimes share deep wisdom, but through through the lens of comedy and pop culture references — a concept that isn't new, but is effective. Freid notes that humor is a good vehicle for sharing messages people may not want to hear. But it takes artistry to land the punchline. It's easy to come off as belittling or sexist, especially if you don't take the person seeking dating advice seriously.

"You have to lead with respect, knowing that someone is writing to you with a very real problem happening in their lives," Freid says. Once trust is established, however, listeners can "begin to have fun with a subject that's not been fun for them in the past," Freid adds.

It's a difficult balance to strike, especially when you're recording multiple episodes a week in a competitive market, and it's a fair estimation to make that all of these podcast hosts have missed the mark at one point or another. Although you can glean entertainment and maybe even enlightenment from these podcasts, there are limitations.

Podcast advice is crafted with broad audiences in mind, which is fine — but it may never feel like a perfect fit.

"These pop-versions of relationship advice remind me in some ways of a horoscope," says relationship expert Corey Yeager, PhD, LMFT. "If I'm concerned about a problem I'm having with my partner, and you give me generalized advice, that's not always a bad thing. If you see your struggle represented, you may tune in more deeply and think, 'That's exactly what I needed to hear.' There's a level of confirmation bias."

That can work well for standard makeups and breakups, but if you're having a more complex problem in your relationship — like you're struggling with anxiety or you're with someone who is emotionally or physically abusive — "you may need a deeper, more professionalized version of understanding," Dr. Yeager says.

Of course, you don't always have to take your cues from a professional, but, Dr. Yeager says, "any time there are psychological issues blossoming related to your relationship, you may want to pause."

Similarly, a professional may be more equipped to fully contextualize any struggles you may be facing, as they've done their homework in a way most podcasters haven't. Intuition and life experience can only take you so far, and blanket statements simply can't speak to all experiences. Many of these relationship podcasters are middle-to-upper-class and white, so their worldviews — and therefore the range of their wisdom — may be limited.

"How you form attachments is so dependent on the culture you grew up with," DeGeare says. "Having a white male, even if it's a well-educated white man, give you advice when you are not a white man? What can be missed is this underlying anxiety, loneliness, and lack of belonging that's mixed into relationships of people who aren't white. When I'm helping a client who's a Black woman, I'm not just giving them general dating advice, I'm validating how they've navigated rejection from spaces — not even romantic rejection, but just being 'other.'"

Still, Dr. Yeager suggests a "both/and" approach with these shows, which have the perk of being easily accessible. You might hear some advice that isn't half bad (at the very least, it'll be more nuanced than most of what you'll find on Dating TikTok), but he recommends being clear about "where you stand and what your struggles are, and when you may need an extra layer of understanding from a professional."

All of these podcasters will give intermittent reminders on their podcasts that they're "not experts," and it can be easy to brush past the disclaimers, but they're there for a reason.

Freid says there have been listeners who've written into "U Up?" with dating stories that feel more serious, dealing with issues of mental health or abuse. "When we get an email that's above our pay grade, so to speak, what seems to be happening is: they felt more comfortable sending a faceless email to a random podcast host than talking to their friends," he says. "We always try to say to them, 'Don't keep this a secret. Tell your friends and family. You need to see their concern.' They're avoiding seeing that when they write to us."

Freid says the podcast's team has followed up in the past with these emailers to check in and suggest they look for support from a professional. He says he can only hope that hearing that from relative strangers is the push they needed to seek out help.

That said, there have been success stories. "My goal was always to talk about dating and make people laugh," Freid says. "We've been sent wedding invitations, and I've had people come up to me who've said, 'You're the reason I'm with this person right here.' That's the cherry on top for me."

You shouldn't expect a podcast host to solve your problems, but they might end up giving you the nudge you need. Jaquish credits Cooper for switching the direction of her life, all thanks to the episode that spurred her breakup. "She needed to open the door so I could walk out of it," she says. "If I had stayed in my past relationship, right now, I absolutely would be married with a kid on the way with that guy . . . I never would have left if she didn't show me that path was possible."

At this point, for better or worse, Jaquish says she feels more connected to Cooper than any mental health professional. "Every therapist I've ever had has said something along the lines of, 'This is just another tool in your toolbox.' Like, what does that mean, Karen?" she says. "I don't have a fucking toolbox." But she does have headphones.

Molly Longman is a freelance journalist who loves to tell stories at the intersection of health and politics.