Jimmy Kimmel Should Be Fired, But Not for His Trump Jokes - He’s Just Not Funny
In a parody White House Correspondents’ Dinner skit just days before a gunman attempted to force his way into the actual event, late-night host Jimmy Kimmel spoke to a mock image of First Lady Melania Trump and quipped that she had a “glow like an expectant widow.” President Donald Trump and the First Lady have since responded, calling for Kimmel to be fired for what they describe as hateful and corrosive rhetoric in the wake of the shooting, of which the President is presumed to have been the primary target.
At a time when our nation’s political discourse is so charged, Kimmel’s “jokes” come across as incitement - not entertainment - and yet, for all the outrage that they’ve generated, those bits are not the reason for this piece. The real reason is simpler and more damning: he’s not funny.
The same goes for his late-night colleagues. Stephen Colbert, Jimmy Fallon, and Seth Meyers have turned what was once a great showcase for sharp cultural observation into something closer to partisan press releases delivered with laugh tracks. Their “jokes” are predictable rhetoric dressed up as comedy, and the audience knows the punchline before it lands because the setup is always the same: Republicans are the problem, Democrats are the solution, and the studio claps on cue. That isn’t comedy - it’s confirmation bias with a house band.
Compare it to the late-night hosts my parents grew up watching. Steve Allen, Jack Paar, and especially Johnny Carson - men who built empires on actual jokes. Carson, who hosted The Tonight Show from 1962 to 1992, regularly drew 15 to 17 million viewers a night at his peak - roughly six to eight times more than what today’s top hosts manage. His monologues skewered the absurdities of the day, from politicians and celebrities to everyday life. But he did so with wit, timing, and a light touch that invited everyone, and Carson rarely leaned hard into partisan combat. He understood late-night comedy’s job was to make people laugh, not lecture them.
When he did touch on politics, it was observational, not accusatory. The audience trusted him because he wasn’t preaching - he was performing - and that trust produced cultural dominance. Carson’s show wasn’t just watched, it was appointment television. People quoted his bits at work the next day.
Today’s late-night programs limp along with roughly 2 million viewers - on a good night. Kimmel’s recent averages hover around 2.1 to 2.5 million - a fraction of Carson’s reach and a sign that the format is culturally irrelevant.
The contrast becomes clearer when you look at comedians who manage to successfully tackle politics today, like Dave Chappelle, whose stand-up specials routinely rack up tens of millions of views while selling out arenas. He wades into topics like race, gender, and cancel culture with layered jokes, surprise turns, and a willingness to punch in every direction. Bill Maher’s Real Time draws strong ratings precisely because he calls out nonsense on both sides instead of reading from a partisan script. Even Fox’s Greg Gutfeld has built a thriving late-night alternative by being irreverent and funny rather than preachy.
These performers succeed because their material is crafted for laughs first. The politics, when present, serve the joke - not the other way around.
Kimmel and his cable colleagues have that formula backwards. Their monologues read like talking points with rim shots from the Democratic National Committee. The laugh track does the heavy lifting because the writing can’t. When every Trump reference lands as “orange man bad” and every left-wing policy gets a standing ovation, you are no longer watching comedy - you’re watching a rally with better lighting.
Don’t mistake my sentiment as nostalgia for a gentler era. It’s recognition that comedy works when it surprises, when it observes human folly across the board, and when it trusts the audience to laugh without being told when. Carson’s genius was making millions feel like they were in on the joke. Today’s hosts just make half the country feel like they are the joke. It’s no wonder viewership has collapsed.
While the networks defend these shows by pointing to their “cultural relevance” and ability to reach younger audiences online, the truth is that relevance without ratings is just noise. The linear audience keeps shrinking, not because America suddenly hates comedy, but because the comedy stopped being funny.
Late-night television once reflected American culture. Now it lectures. If ABC truly wants to save a sinking ship, it should do what any smart business does when a product stops selling: replace the talent. Fire Jimmy Kimmel - not because he dislikes the president or vice versa, but because night after night he fails the one test that actually matters in comedy: he doesn’t make people laugh.
Peter Giunta is a millennial voter and Republican strategist based in New York. He has appeared on Fox News and writes about the issues driving Republican voters from the youth perspective.