By James Williams

Stephen A. Smith has never been shy about speaking his mind, but his latest controversy didn’t come from the world of sports — it came from politics. During his SiriusXM show Straight Shooter, Smith questioned whether Congresswoman Jasmine Crockett’s fiery, combative style actually benefits the people she represents in Texas’s 30th Congressional District.

His comments — particularly his reference to Crockett’s “street verbiage” — set off a storm of backlash. Prominent activists like Tamika Mallory and political commentators Angela Rye and Tiffany Cross called his words “disrespectful,” “immature,” and “part of a pattern.” Smith, however, didn’t back down. He called the criticism “shameful,” insisting that his remarks weren’t about gender — they were about effectiveness. And the uncomfortable truth is this: Stephen A. Smith was right to ask the question.

Crockett represents a majority-minority district that covers South Dallas and parts of DeSoto, Cedar Hill, and Glenn Heights — about 772,000 people who are roughly 40% Black, 36% Hispanic, and 17% White. It’s a young, urban constituency with a median age of 33, a median household income around $69,000, and a poverty rate near 17%. To her credit, Crockett has secured about $10 million in community-funding projects — including upgrades to the MLK Community Center, renovations at the Park South YMCA, improvements to Fair Park and Highland Hills parks, workforce development projects at Bonton Farms, and public-safety investments for Glenn Heights.

Those are meaningful wins. But relative to the scale of her district’s challenges — housing insecurity, educational inequality, and limited job growth — the results are modest. And that’s exactly what Smith was getting at: if most of your energy goes into viral moments and rhetorical battles, how much is left for coalition-building, negotiation, and actual legislation? Smith asked what many political observers — and especially male commentators — are too afraid to say out loud: “Are you serving your constituents, or your social-media following?”

That’s not misogyny. That’s accountability. The job of a representative isn’t to trend on X or go viral on TikTok. It’s to deliver for the people who trusted you with their vote. Crockett’s confrontational style might make for powerful soundbites, but does it move legislation forward? Does it bring more federal dollars, more jobs, or safer streets to South Dallas? Smith wasn’t attacking her identity. He was questioning her impact.

What’s just as telling as the outrage is the silence that followed. Almost no Black men in media came to Smith’s defense — not because they disagreed, but because they feared the reaction. They knew that criticizing a Democratic woman in 2025 carries a social cost that few are willing to pay. The same men who privately admit that politics has become performative stayed quiet publicly, worried they’d be branded as sexist or disloyal. That silence says as much about our public discourse as Smith’s comments do. It’s proof of how fractured the relationship has become between the Democratic Party and the very men who once anchored it.

Stephen A. Smith’s political commentary has exploded in popularity precisely because of this cultural divide. He represents a growing class of men — particularly Black and working-class men — who feel politically homeless. They aren’t conservative, but they no longer see themselves reflected in the Democratic Party either. When Smith challenges figures like Jasmine Crockett, it resonates because it’s not just about her — it’s about every man who feels unheard, undervalued, or misrepresented by modern political culture.

He’s not speaking to Republicans or liberals. He’s speaking to Independents — men who’ve walked away from the noise of partisanship and toward the freedom of independent thought. In doing so, he’s tapping into an emerging market of politically detached men who don’t want echo chambers or talking points. They want results, respect, and real conversation. Smith has mastered what most politicians have forgotten: connection. His authenticity, not his alignment, is what resonates. He’s not leading a movement — he’s reflecting one.

This cultural realignment goes far beyond Smith and Crockett. Gallup polling shows that Democratic identification among men has dropped to 27% — the lowest in decades — while the share of self-identified Independents has surged to 46%. The shift is particularly sharp among younger men and working-class voters, who increasingly view the Democratic Party as preachy, elitist, or out of touch. Many still support progressive policies — on healthcare, wages, and criminal justice — but reject what they see as a culture of scolding and virtue signaling.

As strategist James Carville put it earlier this year, “We’ve got too many preachy females driving the party’s culture. Men don’t want to be lectured — they want to be led.” For years, Democrats built their identity as the party of the working man. But in the Biden-Harris era, that image has eroded. Economic frustration, cultural fatigue, and a sense of double standards — especially around gender and speech — have driven many men away. That’s why Stephen A. Smith’s defiance struck a nerve. He’s not just defending himself — he’s giving voice to a generation of men who feel their opinions no longer matter in public life.

Stephen A. Smith didn’t insult Jasmine Crockett’s intelligence or her service. He asked a question that any voter, taxpayer, or journalist has a right to ask: Is this style of politics actually delivering for the people it claims to serve? The data suggests some progress, but not enough to dismiss his critique. Democracy depends on the freedom to question — even those we admire, even those who look like us, even those who share our politics. That’s not misogyny. That’s civic engagement.

Smith’s rise as a political voice represents something larger — the emergence of a new, post-partisan masculinity. These men aren’t rallying for the right; they’re rejecting the idea that one party owns their values or their vote. They’re not angry for anger’s sake. They’re tired of being talked down to, tired of double standards, tired of being told what’s “acceptable” to think. They want leadership that respects them, not lectures them.

Smith didn’t create that energy — he captured it. And unless the Democratic Party starts listening to those voices instead of dismissing them, it will continue to watch men — especially men of color — walk away. Not necessarily to the GOP, but toward independence.

Jasmine Crockett deserves credit for what she’s delivered. But Stephen A. Smith deserves credit for asking the question that too many are afraid to: representation should be measured by substance, not style. Politics is about power, not performance. And the people — men and women alike — deserve both.