Tucker Carlson, Ben Shapiro, and the Test of True Friendship

I remember a well-known slogan from my youth: “Friends don’t let friends drive drunk.” It captured the essence of true friendship: stepping in when someone else’s choices could cause harm.

That slogan came to mind this week when “friendship” became the excuse and defense for standing by those who platform antisemites and disseminate hate.

Tucker Carlson was one of highest-rated hosts in network news.  His shift to independent media has only expanded his global reach and influence, with views for his episodes on X often in the tens or hundreds of millions.  He has faced repeated accusations of spreading antisemitism, amplifying conspiracy theories, and promoting extremist views.

The controversy reached its peak when Carlson hosted Nick Fuentes, a far-right figure known mostly for extreme antisemitic rhetoric and Holocaust denial. While Carlson framed the interview as an attempt to understand Fuentes’ perspective, it was hard to see it as anything other than giving legitimacy to hate speech and normalizing extremist ideology, particularly as Tucker failed to ask difficult questions, condemn deplorable comments, or challenge Fuentes or hold him accountable for his views.

While Carlson flirted with the line of anti-Israel bias and antisemitic beliefs for the last couple of years, several recent comments, coupled with the Fuentes episode, have undeniably put him over the line and raised real questions. Was he always filled with this latent hate, or did his views and opinions change over time?  Can he still be brought back, or is he hopeless and irredeemable?

Many praised Shapiro for his clarity and conviction, while others, especially those aligned with Tucker, Fuentes, and their ideological circle, reacted with hostility.

Whatever the answers to those questions, it has become clear that it is time for those who align with him politically to call out and confront Carlson, and that is exactly what Ben Shapiro did last week on a special episode of his podcast.  Using clips from Carlson and Fuentes themselves, Shapiro called Tucker an “intellectual coward” and an “ideological launderer,” someone who softens “hideous ideas” and gives them wider audiences. He did not call for cancellation but instead issued a call for moral clarity and accountability, a line drawn that others had been hesitant to draw.

The popular episode quickly became a flashpoint within the conservative world. With moral lines now unmistakably drawn, many praised Shapiro for his clarity and conviction, while others, especially those aligned with Tucker, Fuentes, and their ideological circle, reacted with hostility.

His decision to speak out may appear straightforward and a low bar, but it demanded genuine courage. Speaking out against someone from his own side of the aisle comes with risks that are not theoretical, and challenging powerful figures and entrenched audiences comes at a cost: to one’s safety, reputation, and professional influence alike.

In an era when moral equivocation has become the easier path, we should be both proud and profoundly grateful that one of the most visible Jews in public life, a man whose yarmulke is as recognizable as his voice, is using his platform to articulate moral clarity when so many others remain silent.

Shapiro didn’t stop there.  In the last few days, he has risked relationships by confronting conservative colleagues and challenging them on their silence surrounding the Carlson-Fuentes episode. Megyn Kelly had Shapiro on her show to discuss these developments and when he confronted her on failing to speak out against people like Candace Owens, she defended herself by saying, “My position is it’s really none of my business,” and “I’m not mother of the internet.”  When pushed on Carlson, Kelly defended her friendship and spoke about loyalty.

I don’t envy Megyn Kelly and others in the conservative world who have been caught between prominent, popular, and highly influential friends.  They express that this isn’t their fight, they aren’t responsible to police everything that everyone says or monitor who they host.  They argue that when it comes to friends, criticism and reproach should be shared privately, never in the public sphere.

This tension between loyalty and moral responsibility is not unique to public figures, though for them it is a different calculation and conclusion. The truth is we all face these issues in our private lives: friends who make ethical missteps or betray trust, loved ones who engage in harmful or criminal behavior. How far should friendship go? Does standing by someone implicitly condone their actions or associate us with their behaviors? Is silence a sign of loyalty, or a betrayal of our own values?

Real friendship is caring so much that you are willing to confront and call out when you are concerned your friend has lost his way.

Certainly, there are differences between public figures and private friends.  There are support roles for rabbis and professionals to play and that often differs from how individuals should navigate these complicated decisions.

The Mishna teaches: “Rabbi Yehoshua ben Perachia taught, make for yourself a rabbi, acquire for yourself a friend and judge every person favorably” (Ethics of the Fathers, 1:6).  The Rambam notes that it doesn’t say make for yourself a friend or befriend other people.  It specifically says “acquire” because when it comes to friendship, one cannot be casual or complacent.  We have to bring the same attention, critical thinking and seriousness in searching for a friend who will bring out our best and hold us accountable, that we bring to major acquisitions.

Perhaps with the choice of that word, our rabbis also intended another subtle message about friendship.  K’nei, acquire also has a similar root as the Hebrew word l’takein, to repair.  Real friends reproach and seek to repair one another.  Real friendship is not loving someone so much that you let anything they do slide.  It is caring so much that you are willing to confront and call out when you are concerned your friend has lost his way.

It’s time for a modern update to my childhood PSA: “Friends don’t let friends embrace antisemites.” Antisemitism, like any form of hate, clouds judgment, endangers others, and corrodes the soul. Standing by those who embrace it is not friendship, it is enabling. Moral courage, even at the cost of discomfort or confrontation, is the highest expression of care.

Friendship, loyalty, and ethics intersect in complex ways, but one thing is clear: love and loyalty do not absolve hate. True friends hold each other accountable and protect the moral health of their community and of their movement.