A RadioGPT version of Rick Jensen would be a huge improvement

Jensen is a clunky beta version. He is only programed to do one thing – listen the Sean Hannity each night and regurgitate that nonsense during the day – whereas an up-to-date AI version could listen to Hannity each night and regurgitate that nonsense during the day in the style of Tennessee Williams.

Replacing Humans “Is the Furthest Thing From Our Mindset,” Says the Company Selling an A.I. Radio Host

RadioGPT can talk. It can research. It can take your calls. And it could be coming to your market.

The humble broadcast-radio host, whether a disc jockey or interviewer or reporter, has been going through it for decades now. The 1996 Telecommunications Act fueled the consolidation of local stations, decimating their staffs. The explosion of online radio, music and video streaming, and podcasting have upended ratings for shows on public airwaves. Phones and computers and smart speakers increasingly supplant radio sets. Funding for public radio is notoriously unreliable. It isn’t the best time for your modern-day Wolfman Jacks, or for any media profession.

On top of all that, your local DJ was already on the losing end of the artificial-intelligence revolution. Before the A.I. hype from last year, and even before the COVID recession demolished media ad markets, broadcast networks were gutting on-air talent at the both the national and collegiatelevel to trim budgets and automate programming: syndicating well-known shows and brands, prerecording and prearranging late-night broadcasts, training a roboticized voice to fill in the space when needed. Coupled with major streaming services’ dependence on algorithms and automation to curate playlists and make user recommendations—often with bizarre side effects—these developments make clear that the music industry anticipates the need for fewer humans down the line.

Here is the paragraph from above in the style of a Tennessee Williams monologue:

(Enter a disheveled and downtrodden radio host, pacing back and forth on an empty stage.)

You know, folks, it ain’t easy being a radio host these days. It ain’t easy at all. The world’s changin’, and it’s leaving us behind.

It started with the 1996 Telecommunications Act, and it ain’t stopped since. Local stations, once the heart and soul of our communities, consolidated and cut staff. The explosion of online radio, streaming, and podcasting has taken our listeners away. People don’t even use radio sets no more; they got phones and computers and smart speakers.

And it ain’t just that. No, sir. We was already losin’ out to the machines. Artificial intelligence they call it. Before the COVID recession, before the A.I. hype, networks were cuttin’ on-air talent left and right, automatin’ everything from syndicated shows to late-night broadcasts. And now, even the music industry is getting in on the action, usin’ algorithms and automation to pick playlists and make recommendations.

It’s like they don’t need us no more, folks. They don’t need our human touch, our personality, our soul. They just need a voice, any voice, to fill the silence. And that ain’t right.

We’re the Wolfman Jacks of today, and we’re bein’ left behind. It’s a tough time for any media profession, but it’s especially tough for us. We gotta fight to keep our place in this world, to keep our voices heard.

But damn it, we will. We’ll fight for every second of airtime we can get. We’ll fight for every listener, every fan, every soul out there who needs a voice in the night. We may be down, but we ain’t out. Not yet.