Stephen A. Smith’s Problem Isn’t His Opinions. It’s Accountability

As a sports journalist-turned-media personality with political ambitions, Stephen A. Smith has never met a room he couldn’t fill with the sound of his own voice. 

So when the National Association of Black Journalists handed ESPN’s flagship Black commentator a “Thumbs Down” award last Saturday at its annual conference in Atlanta — citing what it called Smith’s “recurring public pattern of disparaging commentary directed at prominent Black women across politics, sports, and media” — the only shocking part was that anyone expected him to sit with it.

LEARN MORE: Stephen A. Smith’s Non-Apology ‘Apology’ 

Rather than brush it off, defend himself, or pause for a moment of personal reflection, Smith came in hot. 

He posted on X that the award was “the epitome of Christmas arriving early” before promising to “come for” the organization that dared to say publicly what a lot of Black Americans have said privately for years. 

“Let’s see who REALLY deserves a Thumbs Down Award when it comes to the Black Community, after I say my peace![sic]” he wrote. “I’ve shut my mouth for years. Now y’all started something.”

A Gasp, Then Applause

Hard to believe Smith, who’s paid millions of dollars a year to freely speak his mind, has shut his mouth for five minutes, much less years. By Monday afternoon, when the clowning of him on social media reached a fever pitch, Smith took his grievances to conservative white media. 

Proof, I suppose, that when you earn your riches in the attention economy, any publicity is good publicity, even if it shows that your critics may have a point. 

Last Saturday, I was in the banquet hall when NABJ — an organization of professionals dedicated to challenging power and calling out harm — officially put Smith on its “naughty” list. He joined about a half-dozen Thumbs Down “winners,” including Brendan Carr, the Federal Communications Commission chairman; CBS News; and DuJuan McCoy, a Black media mogul. Carr was cited for clamping down on press freedom, while CBS and McCoy, president and CEO of Circle City Broadcasting, both were called out for firings or mass departures of minority staff.

With Smith, NABJ’s leaders looked at his body of work and concluded that his acerbic, borderline offensive commentary about Black women is causing real damage. When his headshot appeared on the jumbo screens, there was a collective gasp from the audience, some chuckling and, then, more than a smattering of applause. 

Remember: this is the same man who spent weeks last fall going after Congresswoman Jasmine Crockett, a Democrat from Texas who ran for the U.S. Senate, because he didn’t care for her “rhetoric for the streets.” Crockett — a combative former civil rights attorney who built her name defending people the system tried to bury, and, during her time in Congress, spoke openly about racism — wasn’t respectable enough for Smith’s taste. 

‘Tearing Down a Black Woman’

In Black America, Crockett is a warrior icon. By Smith’s standards, she was too much: too Black, too Southern, too unbothered by his notion of respectability. So he scolded her on his podcast and questioned whether her style and ambitions were “gonna help your district.” 

The backlash came fast, from commentator Roland Martin to activist Tamika Mallory to rapper Willie D, who put it about as plainly as anyone. “Dude is sitting on one of the biggest mics in America, and instead of using it to uplift, he’s tearing down a Black woman who’s out here putting in real work,” the rapper wrote. 

Smith eventually apologized — kinda — after watching President Donald Trump pile on Crockett with Smith’s own insults. Smith later acknowledged that his words had “given [Trump] ammunition,” but couldn’t resist adding that suggestions he indulged in classic misogynoir was “emphatically false.” 

It’s the same energy Smith brought when he scolded former President Barack Obama for telling Black men to examine their own reluctance to vote for a Black woman for president. It shows up whenever Smith talks about crime, or fatherhood, or “personal responsibility” in the Black community. It’s commentary stripped of thought, perspective, or any meaningful acknowledgment of systemic racism or basic history. 

Nuance isn’t just missing from Smith’s political commentary; it’s been surgically removed. He’s all-in on the kind of “Why can’t y’all just be better?” moralizing that wins the hearts and minds — and dollars — of white people and conservative media. It’s difficult to reckon otherwise when Smith, clearly stung by the NABJ critique, bypassed Black media and served up more bombast to Sean Hannity on Fox News and Chris Cuomo on NewsNation. 

Perhaps more telling: NABJ’s current president, Errin Haines, is a Black woman.

Mirror, or Weapon?

To be clear, Smith has the right to his opinions. Crockett, Obama and other Black public figures aren’t above criticism. Even NABJ has its issues; one wishes it would use its power to fry even bigger institutional fish. But if Smith chooses to spew hot takes targeting influential Black women, he should be held accountable for misogynoir.

Smith’s strong reaction to the pushback, and the brutal online trolling from Black netizens that followed, is telling because it reveals how little self-awareness came with his fame and fortune, and how many people agreed with NABJ’s decision to call him out. 

NABJ didn’t ambush him. This is an organization he has walked into at past conventions with music blasting and arms wide, soaking up the love. Rather than understanding, ignoring or even asking questions, Smith vowed revenge, and did it on white media.

That’s not the response of a man interested in growth. It’s the response of someone who has built an empire on being the loudest voice in the room, cashing fat checks for it and never answering to anyone with power who thinks he’s wrong. 

NABJ handed him a mirror. True to form, Smith wants to use it as a weapon.

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