He champions “common sense” and rails against the “woke mind virus,” yet cuddles up to the very figures who embody the divisive rhetoric he claims to oppose. He professes a deep-seated Christian faith, yet his public pronouncements often seem at odds with its core tenets. This is the paradoxical world of Piers Morgan, a media personality who has built a career on straddling fences, a man who talks out of both sides of his mouth, leaving a trail of confusion and accusations of hypocrisy in his wake.
Morgan, who identifies as “slightly left-of-centre,” has cultivated an image as a straight-talking journalist unafraid to challenge the powerful. He is a vocal critic of what he deems the excesses of progressive ideology, frequently taking aim at “cancel culture” and identity politics on his show, “Piers Morgan Uncensored.”1 Yet, for a man who claims to be a voice of reason against extremism, his long and storied friendship with President Donald Trump presents a glaring contradiction.
Their relationship, forged in the fires of reality television on “The Celebrity Apprentice,” has weathered numerous storms. Morgan has often defended his access to Trump, portraying it as a journalistic coup. However, this “friendship” goes beyond mere professional courtesy. It’s a chummy, back-patting affair that has seen Morgan champion Trump’s “strong” leadership while occasionally offering mild rebukes that carry the weight of a gentle tap on the wrist. This association allows Morgan to present himself as a bridge-builder, someone who can engage with the right. But to many conservatives, this alliance appears opportunistic, a way for Morgan to maintain relevance and access to power, rather than a genuine alignment of values. He is not a friend to conservatives; he is a friend to Trump, and there is a world of difference.
This duality is not confined to his political associations. On social issues, Morgan often adopts a posture of bewildered traditionalist. His frequent and often inflammatory comments on transgender rights, for instance, have positioned him as a defender of “biological reality” against the “woke agenda.” He will rail against what he sees as an erosion of traditional values, a message that resonates with many on the right.
However, a closer examination of his broader views reveals a more muddled picture. The man who champions free speech can be notoriously thin-skinned when faced with criticism himself. He decries “cancel culture” yet has a history of calling for people to be fired. He presents himself as a champion of women, yet his public feuds with figures like Meghan Markle and his often-dismissive tone towards female guests who challenge him tell a different story.2
Then there is the matter of his faith. Morgan has spoken of his Catholic upbringing and his belief in God, often invoking it when discussing morality and ethics.3 In interviews, he has stated he takes comfort from his faith. However, his public persona, characterized by a relentless pursuit of conflict, a penchant for personal attacks, and a seeming delight in the downfall of his perceived enemies, sits uneasily with the Christian virtues of humility, forgiveness, and love for one’s neighbor. For many, his brand of Christianity appears to be more of a cultural identity than a deeply held theological conviction, a convenient shield to deflect criticism rather than a guiding principle for his conduct.
Ultimately, Piers Morgan is a man of contradictions. He is a progressive who appears to have little time for progressive causes, a self-proclaimed Christian whose public life often seems to run counter to the teachings of his faith, and a friend of Donald Trump who wants to be seen as a credible journalist by all sides. He is a symptom of a media landscape that prioritizes conflict over coherence, and personality over principle. By attempting to be everything to everyone, he risks being nothing to anyone, a man perpetually on the fence, a part of the problem, not the solution.
R-Rated Religion 