In the volatile world of media, predictions are a dime a dozen. Yet, every so often, a forecast proves so uncannily accurate that it forces everyone to stop and take notice. This is one of those moments. Years before the news sent shockwaves through the industry, former Fox News anchor Bill O’Reilly made a bold and controversial claim: Stephen Colbert’s tenure at CBS was doomed, and the legacy broadcast networks—CBS, NBC, and ABC—were marching toward an inevitable collapse. At the time, many dismissed it as partisan sour grapes. Today, with Colbert reportedly out at CBS and the late-night world in turmoil, O’Reilly’s words echo with the chilling ring of truth. This isn’t just a story about one host’s departure; it’s the story of a media empire facing a potential extinction-level event he claimed to have seen coming all along.

The prophecy was rooted in a simple but powerful observation: you cannot build a sustainable business by deliberately alienating half of your potential customers. For years, O’Reilly has argued that the major networks, once beacons of mass-appeal entertainment, had morphed into partisan echo chambers. He pointed specifically to the late-night circuit, with Stephen Colbert as its undisputed king, as the epicenter of this self-destructive strategy. The constant barrage of what he described as a “liberal agenda” and “hatred of Trump,” O’Reilly insisted, was not just bad politics—it was catastrophic business. While the media establishment may have scoffed, the numbers were quietly telling a different story.

For the first time in American history, traditional broadcast television is no longer the default way people consume content. The statistics are staggering and paint a grim picture for the old guard. Viewership for the big three networks—NBC, CBS, and ABC—has cratered, now accounting for a mere 19% of television consumption. To put that in perspective, streaming platforms like Netflix, Hulu, and YouTube have captured a commanding 46% of the market. Even struggling cable TV holds a larger share at 23%. This isn’t a gradual shift; it’s a seismic upheaval that has left the foundations of network television cracked and crumbling. The very model that sustained these giants for generations has become obsolete, and late-night television, once the crown jewel of their programming, is feeling the aftershocks most acutely.

At the heart of CBS’s struggle, according to O’Reilly’s critique, was Stephen Colbert. After taking the reins of the “Late Show,” Colbert shed the satirical conservative persona that made him a star on “The Colbert Report” and embraced a new role as a leading voice of the political left. His nightly monologues became a fixture of anti-Trump commentary and a rallying point for a progressive audience. While this initially energized a base and led to a ratings surge, it came at a steep cost. A vast swath of the country, including moderates and conservatives who once tuned in for a laugh, felt targeted and shut out.

O’Reilly’s argument was that entertainment, especially late-night comedy, thrives on being a shared experience. Legends like Johnny Carson famously attracted nearly 9 million viewers a night by keeping the comedy broad and relatable. Colbert, in contrast, chose a different path. The numbers reflect the consequences of that choice. In the last five years, his viewership has plummeted by 30%, a loss of over a million viewers who decided they’d had enough. The show that was meant to be a comedic escape had become, for many, just another source of political division in an already polarized world.

This trend wasn’t limited to Colbert, but he was its most prominent symbol. Late-night television transformed from a place of lighthearted celebrity interviews and universal humor into a battlefield of the culture wars. Hosts like Colbert, Jimmy Kimmel, and Seth Meyers increasingly used their powerful platforms not just to entertain, but to preach to a specific political choir. The humor became less about shared human experiences and more about scoring points against the other side. As O’Reilly consistently pointed out, this strategy was fundamentally flawed. “You can’t just alienate half the country,” he argued. “He chose to bash conservatives night after night, and that ultimately hurts CBS.” The result was a fractured audience, where viewers retreated to content that affirmed their beliefs, leaving the concept of a unifying late-night host in the dust.

The fallout from this approach has been devastatingly real, and it can be measured in dollars and cents. When over a million viewers vanish, advertisers take notice. The declining ratings for “The Late Show” created a domino effect, leading to a significant drop in advertising revenue for CBS. Companies aiming to reach a broad, national audience, particularly those with customers in middle America, grew wary of associating their brands with such politically charged content. This financial strain wasn’t just a late-night problem; it was symptomatic of a larger illness afflicting the entire network as viewers and advertisers flock to the more tailored and flexible environments of streaming and digital media. O’Reilly’s prediction was never just about ideology; it was about economics. He saw that a business model reliant on mass appeal could not survive on niche, partisan programming.

Now, with Colbert’s exit, CBS is at a critical crossroads. The network is faced with the monumental task of replacing a host who, for better or worse, defined its late-night identity for nearly a decade. Do they double down and find another politically-driven host, or do they heed what many see as a clear warning? Rebooting the format with a host who can bring back a sense of unity and broad-appeal comedy seems like a logical move, but it’s a challenge in today’s divided climate. For Colbert, his future is also uncertain. His brand of comedy has proven potent within a specific demographic, but the question remains whether he can pivot to a style that appeals beyond that base or if he is destined for a smaller, more niche platform.

Ultimately, Colbert’s departure feels like more than just a changing of the guard. It serves as a potent wake-up call for the entire late-night television industry. The era of the partisan host who lectures a portion of the audience may be drawing to a close, not because of political pressure, but because of market rejection. As Bill O’Reilly predicted, the audience has voted with their remotes, and the verdict is in. The old ways are unsustainable. The great challenge for CBS, and for all of network television, is whether they can learn from this chapter and adapt to a new media reality, or if they will continue to fade into irrelevance, becoming a relic of a bygone era.