What a time it is to be an irredeemably awful rich dude. Aside from, you know, the obvious stuff, dudes who should be mocked, derided, and generally excluded from polite society are getting up to all sorts of activities right now. Why, just today, streamer Guy “Dr Disrespect” Beahm and UFC fighter Conor McGregor, both known for being all bluster and no bite, faced the consequences of their respective sexual misconduct allegations – one more so than the other.
Today Beahm, demonetized on YouTube and booted from his own company after he was accused of (and partially confessed to) exchanging inappropriate DMs with a minor, announced that he’s struck a deal with Rumble, the very bottom of the internet’s conspiracy-spackled slop barrel. This follows unsuccessful attempts at bargaining with Kick and YouTube.
“Rumble is in a new era, and I’m laser-focused on expanding into two categories: gaming and crypto,” Rumble CEO Chris Pavlovski said in a statement received by Aftermath. “Dr Disrespect will give a much-needed injection into our gaming category.”
The statement goes on to note that Beahm has entered into an agreement that “includes equity with milestones as a majority of its compensation,” so presumably, Rumble is hoping Beahm will help grow the platform, possibly by using his other channels as a funnel the way many Kick streamers do. Beahm will also “lead Rumble Gaming, acting as an advisor and helping to build the Rumble Gaming community,” which is a funny thing to say, because I can’t think of many instances where advisors were also de facto leaders, but whatever.
This was a predictable outcome, so much so that I predicted it right after Beahm began looking cooked in June. At the time, I wrote:
On Kick, Rumble, and in certain corners of YouTube, there’s something akin to an alternate universe of streamers, one that grew out of Twitch’s earlier, edgier tendencies but which that company has since sought to squelch. The core appeal of these creators is their ability to get away with shit. To harass and bother, to say the most out-of-pocket things they can think of, to push limits until all lines in the sand have eroded.
There’s obvious trainwreck appeal here, but some fans also look to these creators aspirationally, as a sort of avatar. If a big content creator can embrace an unhinged lifestyle and get whatever they want, maybe viewers can too. These sorts of viewers will always support somebody like Beahm, a 42-year-old man who behaves like a 16-year-old boy, because they see themselves in him. And though Beahm will probably lose viewership over this in aggregate regardless of whether he stays on YouTube or ends up somewhere else, the viewers who stick around will likely become bigger fans than ever. Because ultimately, this is not about morals or principles; it’s about people forming such a strong attachment to a creator that they feel like attacks against him are attacks against them as well and platforms that recognize they’ll make more money than they’ll lose by harnessing that ugly energy.
So Dr Disrespect is cooked in that he’s losing deals, sponsors, and an entire company, as well as his reputation as somebody who has not engaged in inappropriate conversation with a minor, a stunningly low bar to clear. He’s cooked in the mainstream sense. But he’s made a calculation that he can step away, take a breather, and return to an online audience large enough to continue supporting him. And he’s probably right.
Since returning to the significantly-dimmed limelight, Beahm has only leaned in to the idea that he’s the victim of a grand conspiracy to undermine his success, so he’ll fit right in on Rumble, a vastly smaller platform than Twitch, YouTube, or even Kick, one where mainstream castoffs like Russell Brand flirt with fascism and The Lord Jesus Christ, and a nonzero number of Trump associates eat dog food.
This will briefly serve as good marketing for Rumble before everyone stops caring in a week, at which point the internet’s far-right sinkhole will be out who-knows-how-many millions of dollars, because a single streamer, no matter how large, cannot generate the kind of revenue needed to make up for these big money deals. If trends hold, Beahm will likely stream on Rumble until the conclusion of his contract and then go elsewhere, to whichever platform boasts the largest livestreaming audience – assuming he’s no longer radioactive in everybody’s eyes by that point. And who knows: Given how companies, brands, and influencers are already acting in the wake of Trump’s reelection, he might be welcomed with open arms in a couple years.
On the other end of the shitty rich dude spectrum, Conor McGregor is at least having a sort-of bad time. The target of numerous assault allegations, one finally stuck last week, with a Dublin High Court jury finding him liable for a sexual assault that took place in 2018. He’s now on the hook for around $250,000 in damages, which is chump change to one of the highest-paid athletes in the world, but at least we get to see him throw a big ol’ baby fit about it. Also, he’s been removed from Hitman, which contained a mission that saw Agent 47 stalk and assassinate the UFC’s gibbering-has-been-weight champion.
“In light of the recent court ruling regarding Conor McGregor, IO Interactive has made the decision to cease its collaboration with the athlete, effective immediately,” Hitman studio IO Interactive said on Twitter. “We take this matter very seriously and cannot ignore its implications. Consequently, we will begin removing all content featuring Mr. McGregor from our storefronts starting today.”
On a long enough timescale, I imagine McGregor’s career prospects will look a lot like Beahm’s, except with many, many more zeroes on his checks. Historically, the UFC has not only turned a blind eye to assault perpetrators but embraced them, offering supposed second chances after athletes paid no meaningful penance. Even assuming McGregor never fights again – an outcome that looks more and more likely with every passing month after his previously-scheduled summer 2024 return was canceled due to a broken toe – he’s still got grubby fingers in numerous other pies. He is yacht-owningly wealthy; he could retire from the public eye and shut the fuck up forever tomorrow, and he’d still be able to support his descendants for the next 1,000 years.
At least we can take solace in the fact that the gaping hole where his soul should be won’t allow him to, and he’ll never find lasting happiness. I just wish that the particular brand of misery embodied by the McGregors and Beahms of the world didn’t love the company of everybody else on planet Earth. That’d be nice.
