Dave Smith’s Gatekeeping Paradox

Demanding Substance While Dealing in Smears

Douglas Murray's debate performance against Dave Smith was a masterclass in bad-faith argumentation. "You haven't been" will be memed until the end of time. Smith correctly pointed out Murray’s hollow non-arguments and attempts to substitute credentials for substance. But this makes Smith's own rhetorical habits all the more glaring.

When discussing critics of Israel, Smith deploys the same evasive manoeuvre he condemned in Murray. The label "online Jew-haters" gets thrown around constantly in his commentary, yet he refuses to define what actually constitutes antisemitic rhetoric versus legitimate criticism. This vagueness serves the same gatekeeping function as Murray's credentialism - it's a way to dismiss opposition without engagement.

The pattern extends further. Smith mocks politicians for "signalling" to elite audiences while carefully positioning himself as the acceptable dissident. His theatrical disavowals of 9/11 "conspiracists" and performative condemnations of unspecified "Jew-hatred" aren't principled stands - they're credibility maintenance for audiences who might otherwise dismiss him as fringe. The man who demands precise engagement from his opponents shows no such rigor when discrediting his critics.

What emerges isn't just hypocrisy, but a recognizable strategy: claim the mantle of open debate while systematically narrowing what counts as legitimate participation in it. The very rhetorical tricks Smith exposes in others become tools in his own hands when convenient. The difference is that where Murray's gatekeeping is clumsy and obvious, Smith's is subtle enough that many of his followers don't even notice it's happening.

The Selective Gatekeeper

Smith’s inconsistency goes beyond mere hypocrisy, it reveals a calculated rhetorical double standard. When he critiques U.S. foreign policy or media narratives, he insists that arguments be judged purely on their merits. But when others critique Israel or question his positions, suddenly the rules change. The substance no longer matters, now it’s about who’s making the argument, and whether they’ve been pre-emptively branded with the right (or wrong) labels.

Take his handling of antisemitism accusations. Smith bristles when critics dismiss him as an ideologue rather than engaging his points, yet he does the exact same thing to those he calls "Jew-haters." He’ll mock establishment figures for smearing dissenters as cranks or bigots, then turn around and deploy the same lazy shorthand against his own critics. The difference? When he does it, it’s framed as righteous dismissal rather than evasion.

This isn’t an accident. By keeping the definition of "Jew-hatred" intentionally vague, never specifying which criticisms cross the line, or how, Smith ensures he can apply the label whenever convenient. The effect is a subtle but powerful gatekeeping mechanism: he gets to decide who’s a serious commentator and who’s just a "hater," with no consistent standard beyond his own rhetorical needs.

Worse, he compounds this by engaging in the very signalling he condemns in others. His obligatory disclaimers—"I’m not one of those 9/11 truthers," "obviously I oppose Jew-hatred"—aren’t just clarifications. They’re strategic concessions, meant to reassure mainstream audiences that he’s still playing by the rules even as he critiques the system. He positions himself as the only acceptable dissenter, the one critic who gets to question the narrative without being exiled from polite discourse.

The pattern is clear: Smith demands open debate, but only on his terms. He attacks credentialism when it’s used against him, then invokes his own gatekeeping authority when it suits him. And all while pretending he’s just calling balls and strikes.

The Credibility Trap

What makes Smith’s manoeuvring particularly effective and insidious is how it exploits the asymmetry of credibility in political discourse. He understands that in today’s media environment, simply being labelled “fringe” or “extreme” is enough to disqualify voices from serious consideration. So he plays both sides: positioning himself as the reasonable sceptic while ensuring his critics remain safely categorized as irrational or malicious.

This explains his careful dance around conspiracy-adjacent topics. When discussing 9/11, for instance, Smith will nod to “unanswered questions” before immediately distancing himself from “the crazies.” It’s a calculated move, he gets to signal awareness of controversial truths to his anti-establishment base, while maintaining just enough plausible deniability to avoid being dismissed by mainstream outlets. The same pattern emerges with antisemitism: he’ll vaguely condemn “Jew-hatred” without specifics, allowing him to appear principled while avoiding any meaningful engagement with actual critics.

The brilliance of this approach is that it lets Smith control the narrative without ever having to defend his gatekeeping. If challenged, he can always fall back on technicalities: “I never said all criticism of Israel is antisemitic”, while still benefiting from the chilling effect the label carries. Meanwhile, his insistence that he’s simply “calling out real bigotry” gives cover for what is, in practice, a highly selective enforcement of debate standards.

What emerges is a self-reinforcing cycle:

1. Smith demands his arguments be taken seriously on their merits

2. He dismisses opposing views through vague labelling rather than engagement

3. When called out, he points to his own “reasonable” posture as proof of good faith

4. The cycle repeats, with his credibility intact and his critics marginalized

The end result isn’t honest debate, but a rigged game, one where Smith alone decides which arguments are worthy of consideration, and which can be safely ignored as the ravings of “haters” or “conspiracists.” It’s gatekeeping disguised as principled scepticism, and it’s far more effective than Murray’s ham-fisted credentialism could ever be.

The question isn’t whether Smith makes valid points, he often does. It’s whether his rhetorical tactics ultimately serve to expand debate, or simply to control who gets to participate in it. The evidence suggests the latter.

The Manufactured Middle Ground

Smith’s rhetorical tightrope walk reveals a deeper truth about political discourse: the most effective gatekeeping often comes disguised as even-handed scepticism. By positioning himself as the reasonable centrist between "establishment shills" and "unhinged conspiracy theorists," he doesn’t just argue his case, he actively constructs the boundaries of what counts as legitimate dissent.

This becomes especially clear in how he handles the most contentious issues. Take his approach to Ukraine: while criticizing mainstream narratives, he’s careful to avoid crossing certain red lines that would trigger outright dismissal from serious platforms. He’ll question aid packages or NATO expansion, but won’t touch biolabs or Nazi battalion stories that might get him labelled "Russian propagandist." It’s not that these topics lack factual basis, it’s that engaging them would cost him his carefully cultivated credibility.

The same pattern applies to Israel discourse. Smith can rail against AIPAC and lobby influence all day, but notice how he never meaningfully engages with the most damning critiques of Zionism as a political ideology. He’ll attack specific policies while carefully avoiding the structural analysis that would force him to either defend the indefensible or risk being branded an extremist himself.

What we’re seeing here is the creation of a manufactured middle ground, a space where Smith gets to appear boldly contrarian while actually staying well within the Overton window’s safer territories. The genius lies in making these constraints appear voluntary, as if he’s simply following the evidence rather than making calculated credibility trade-offs.

This explains his peculiar treatment of sources. Smith will mock mainstream media for ignoring inconvenient facts, yet he’s conspicuously selective about which alternative sources he legitimizes. A Mearsheimer paper gets cited approvingly; a MintPress News investigation gets ignored. The unspoken rule is clear: dissent is welcome, but only from approved, "respectable" contrarians.

The cumulative effect is a discourse where:

• Truly radical critiques get filtered out through self-censorship masquerading as discernment

• The range of acceptable dissent appears broader than it actually is

• Smith maintains his rebel image while avoiding the consequences of genuine iconoclasm

It’s not that his arguments lack merit, many hold up under scrutiny. But by controlling which critiques get airtime and which get dismissed as fringe, he’s not just participating in the debate. He’s subtly rigging its parameters in ways that serve his own credibility maintenance above all else.

The irony is thick: a commentator who built his brand on attacking establishment gatekeepers has become one himself, just savvier about how he wields and conceals his power.

The Art of Strategic Vagueness

Smith's entire critique of establishment debate rests on one core principle: arguments must engage specifics rather than relying on credentials or vague labels. Yet when discussing what he calls "online Jew-hatred," he violates this principle constantly. The pattern is unmistakable:

1. The Demand He Makes to Critics

   • To Murray: "Don't say 'you lack expertise' - engage my actual arguments about Israel's bombing campaigns"

   • To media: "Don't call critics 'Putin apologists' - disprove their NATO analysis"

   • His standard: If you claim someone's wrong, you must identify exactly which facts or logic failed

2. The Standard He Applies to Others

   • On podcasts: "There's so much vile Jew-hatred on Twitter" (no examples)

   • To critics: "You're signalling to the Jew-hating crowd" (no evidence)

   • His loophole: When he makes the same style of dismissal he condemns, it's "obvious" what he means

The hypocrisy crystallizes in what goes unsaid. Smith will:

• Spend 45 minutes dissecting a Pentagon report's paragraph on Ukraine weapons

• But dismiss "Jew-hatred" with a handwave about "you know it when you see it"

• Demand critics specify which State Department claims are false about Syria

• Yet never specify which Israel critiques constitute "hatred" versus legitimate disagreement

This isn't about being wrong, it's about being unaccountable. The vagueness serves three clear purposes:

1. Plausible Deniability: He can claim he's only talking about "real" antisemitism (blood libel, etc.) while using the term's chilling effect on mainstream critics

2. Rhetorical Flexibility: The definition expands/contracts as needed - today it's literal Nazis, tomorrow it's anyone comparing Israel to apartheid

3. Gatekeeping Power: By controlling what counts as "hate," he controls who gets taken seriously

The test is simple: When Murray dismissed Smith's arguments based on credentials, Smith called it evasion. But when Smith dismisses arguments based on undefined "Jew-hatred," suddenly the rules change.

The Gatekeeping Playbook

Smith’s rhetorical manoeuvres follow a distinct pattern when discussions approach Israel’s most sensitive pressure points. The sequence reveals itself most clearly when certain themes emerge:

1. The Threshold
   He comfortably critiques specific Israeli policies—settlement growth, blockade tactics, AIPAC’s influence—establishing his bona fides as an independent thinker.

2. The Pivot Point
   When conversations touch on:

   • The concept of organized "Jewish power" (not just Israeli lobbying)

   • Israel’s racial/religious dimensions as a Jewish state
     His tone shifts abruptly:
     "This is where we start getting into classic antisemitic tropes..."
     "You realize you're echoing Protocols of Zion talking points, right?"

3. The Strategic Ambiguity
   Crucially, he never explains:

   • Where legitimate criticism of ethnonationalism becomes "tropes"

   • How discussing Israel’s Jewish character differs from, say, analysing Iran as an Islamic republic

   • Why references to "Jewish power" are inherently toxic when:

     • He freely discusses "Evangelical power" in US politics

     • He analyses "WASP elite" historical influence

4. The Quiet Conflation
   The implication becomes:
   Any serious examination of these themes = flirting with antisemitism
   Yet when challenged, he retreats to:
   "I didn't say you can't discuss these things!"
   (Despite having just framed such discussion as inherently suspect)

This achieves three strategic ends:

1. Chilling Effect - Discourages exploration of structural critiques

2. Credibility Preservation - Lets him appear "balanced" while silencing certain lines of inquiry

3. Selective Scrutiny - Applies standards to Israel he'd never accept for other nations

The hypocrisy shines when comparing his approach to:

• US Politics: Will dissect "white Protestant hegemony" in detail

• Middle East: Analyses "Shiite crescent" power structures frankly

• Israel: Suddenly structural analysis becomes "trope territory"

The unspoken rule emerges:
You may criticize what Israel does, but not examine what Israel is.

The Illusion

What emerges from Smith’s rhetorical patterns isn’t just hypocrisy, it’s a sophisticated control mechanism. By selectively enforcing standards of evidence, strategically deploying vague labels, and insulating certain topics from scrutiny, he creates the appearance of open inquiry while systematically narrowing its scope. The effect is paradoxical: a commentator who positions himself as breaking free from establishment constraints actually replicates its most insidious censorship tactics, just with different red lines.

The damage this does to discourse becomes clear when we examine the cumulative impact:

1. Asymmetrical Accountability

   • Critics must defend every syllable when challenging US policy

   • Smith dismisses entire arguments with undefined "Jew-hatred" accusations

2. Pre-emptive Silencing

   • The mere hint that a discussion might attract antisemites becomes reason to avoid it

   • (Notice this never applies to, say, avoiding white nationalists when discussing immigration)

3. Circular Gatekeeping

   • "Serious" criticism stays within bounds Smith defines

   • Those bounds are justified by claiming only "unserious" people cross them

   • The system self-reinforces

This explains Smith’s allergic reaction to specificity. Define "Jew-hatred" clearly, and the game falls apart:

• Too narrow? Loses its silencing power

• Too broad? Exposes the tactic as ideological policing

Better to keep it nebulous—able to stretch or contract as needed.

The Real Tell

Compare how Smith discusses two forms of nationalism:

• American exceptionalism: Dismantles it point-by-point as dangerous mythology

• Zionist exceptionalism: Treats its core premises as too sensitive for full interrogation

The difference isn’t intellectual—it’s strategic. One serves his anti-establishment brand; the other risks alienating audiences he needs.

Conclusion: The Controlled Dissident

Smith’s genius lies in making constraints look like principles. By:

1. Demanding rigor from opponents while exempting himself

2. Condemning vague smears... using vague smears

3. Decrying gatekeepers while becoming one

...he gets to play rebel and gatekeeper simultaneously. The result is a masterclass in controlled opposition: just enough dissent to feel subversive, but never enough to threaten real power structures.

The tragedy? He’s not wrong about the establishment’s bad faith. He’s just perfected a mirror of it..

….and when Dave Smith gazes into his personal mirror of Erised, he surely sees the image of his own respectable self as the arbiter of acceptable discourse.