I was hired by the 'Tom Joyner Morning Show' to do commentary

In the thoughtful words of Don Lemon, a voice known for both clarity and conviction, we find a principle that echoes through every age of truth-seeking: “I was hired by the ‘Tom Joyner Morning Show’ to do commentary that makes people think. I want my audience to feel like they are learning and not being pandered to.” These words are not merely about journalism or commentary—they speak to the sacred duty of the truth-teller, the one who stands before the crowd not to flatter, but to awaken. For to make people think is a work of courage, and to refuse to pander is an act of integrity in a world that often rewards comfort more than honesty.

In this declaration, Don Lemon reveals the timeless struggle between truth and pleasure, between the noble art of enlightenment and the seductive ease of approval. Many in public life choose the latter—they speak what pleases, they mirror the crowd, they offer applause rather than challenge. But the true teacher, the true commentator, the true servant of knowledge, knows that growth comes not through flattery, but through reflection. To “make people think” is to stir the mind from its sleep, to provoke the heart into questioning its own certainties. It is to risk rejection for the sake of wisdom, to trade popularity for the higher reward of truth.

This idea has ancient roots. Long before microphones and morning shows, there was Socrates, walking the streets of Athens, asking questions that unsettled his fellow citizens. He did not tell them what they wished to hear—he told them what they needed to consider. His words did not soothe; they sharpened. And for this, he was accused of corrupting the youth, for he dared to make them think beyond the traditions they had inherited. Yet through his life and death, he proved what Don Lemon’s words remind us today: that to challenge thought is to serve the human spirit, not to harm it. The greatest gift a voice can offer is not comfort, but understanding.

When Don Lemon speaks of not wanting to pander, he speaks against the very temptation that lures so many who address the public. To pander is to surrender one’s soul for applause—to give the people what they crave, rather than what they need. It is to abandon the sacred responsibility of the messenger in exchange for fleeting approval. The ancients would have called this moral decay—the betrayal of truth for pleasure. But the wise know that the role of the thinker, the commentator, the teacher, is not to echo the world’s noise, but to elevate it. Those who listen should rise in understanding, not sink into satisfaction.

There are those in history who have borne this same burden with grace. Consider Frederick Douglass, who, though once enslaved, rose to become one of the greatest voices for freedom. When he spoke, he did not pander to the comfort of his audience; he forced them to confront the horror of their indifference. His words were not gentle—they were fire. Yet that fire purified the conscience of a nation. Like Lemon, Douglass understood that to speak truthfully is to teach, and to teach is to love humanity deeply, even when humanity resists.

To desire that one’s audience feels they are learning is to see them not as consumers, but as companions on a journey. The speaker and the listener become partners in discovery, walking together through the landscape of ideas. This is what every true communicator seeks—not to manipulate, but to enlighten; not to entertain the mind, but to transform it. The goal is not the applause of the crowd, but the awakening of the individual. The thinker’s triumph is not in agreement, but in the silent pause when someone realizes, “I have never seen it that way before.”

So, O seeker of truth, remember this: never hunger for comfort at the expense of wisdom. Seek those who challenge your thoughts, not those who feed your illusions. When you speak, let your words be like a lamp—sometimes bright, sometimes harsh, but always guiding toward truth. To make others think is the highest form of respect; to pander is the deepest form of deceit. Speak, therefore, with courage. Listen with humility. And live as one who is always learning, for the mind that dares to think becomes a vessel of light in a world that too often chooses shadow.

In the end, Don Lemon’s words stand as a modern echo of an eternal truth: that those who love humanity must sometimes unsettle it. To make people think is to honor their intelligence; to teach without pandering is to honor their potential. Let that be the measure of all voices that claim to guide others—whether they speak from the pulpit, the podium, or the airwaves. For it is far better to awaken one mind than to please a thousand hearts.