Why Are We Still Listening to Chris Christie?

Why Are We Still Listening to Chris Christie?
Republican U.S. presidential candidates participate in their fourth debate of the 2024 U.S. presidential campaign in Tuscaloosa, Alabama

Chris Christie, once a brash Republican governor with a knack for straight talk, has become a perplexing fixture in American media.

His presence on outlets like ABC feels less like political analysis and more like a reality TV spectacle—a click magnet who thrives on stirring the pot and reminding people that he’s still very, very, very upset with his former boss, President Donald Trump.

But with his relevance waning and public disdain growing, why does the media keep handing him a microphone?

The answer lies in a toxic mix of sensationalism, betrayal narratives, and Christie’s own willingness to play the provocateur for hire.

Let’s be clear: Christie’s political star has long faded.

His 2016 presidential run fizzled, his tenure as New Jersey’s governor ended with approval ratings scraping the teens, and his brief flirtation with Trump’s inner circle ended in predictable exile. Yet, the media—ABC in particular—can’t seem to quit him.

Why? Because Christie delivers what they crave: red meat for ratings. He’s a former GOP insider who’s now a reliable critic of the party, Trump, and even his home state of New Jersey.

Every appearance is a guaranteed soundbite, dripping with the kind of inflammatory rhetoric that fuels X posts and cable news chyrons. He’s the gift that keeps on giving, a one-man outrage machine who’ll say something stupid or divisive on cue.

The media’s obsession with Christie isn’t about his insight; it’s about his utility. He’s a turncoat, and turncoats sell.

His willingness to torch his former allies—calling out Trump’s legal troubles or slamming GOP policies—creates a narrative of betrayal that’s catnip for audiences already polarized to the hilt.

It’s not that he’s saying anything profound; it’s that he’s saying it with a Jersey accent and a scowl, which apparently passes for authenticity. Meanwhile, his critics on X and beyond see through the act, lambasting him as a has-been desperate for relevance.

A quick scroll through posts on X reveals a near-universal sentiment: Christie’s a punching bag, loathed by both the MAGA crowd and moderates who view him as opportunistic. Used as a wilful idiot for the left.

So why does ABC keep trotting him out?

It’s simple economics. Christie’s appearances drive engagement, even if it’s hate-watching.

His predictability—dishing out anti-Trump zingers or taking swipes at the GOP—makes him a safe bet for producers who need to fill airtime. He’s not there to inform; he’s there to perform.

And Christie, ever the political animal, is happy to oblige. His new gig as a pundit lets him stay in the spotlight, even if it’s as a caricature. He’s traded governing for grandstanding, and the media is complicit in amplifying his voice far beyond its actual weight.

But here’s the rub: the more we see Christie, the less he matters. His critiques, once sharp, now feel rehearsed, like a stand-up comic recycling old material.

The public’s patience is thinning—X users regularly mock his sanctimonious tone and question his motives. He’s not shaping the discourse; he’s just noise. By giving him a platform, outlets like ABC aren’t elevating the conversation; they’re cheapening it, prioritizing clicks over substance.

It’s time to move on. Christie’s story has been told, his bridges burned, his relevance exhausted.

But he still delivers clicks, so, maybe we’ll keep an eye on him, because we like clicks too!

The media needs to stop treating him like a sage and start asking why they’re still booking a man whose biggest contribution is controversy for its own sake.

As for the audience, they’ll do well to change the channel and banter about the next anti-Trump talking head waiting to take his spot in the lineup.