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James Barr: ‘Why I’m pressing pause on my Gay and A NonGay podcast’

Barr is calling time on his podcast to put his energies into fighting for the community that needs him now more than ever

By James Barr

James Barr in blue puffer coat against green background
James Barr (Image: Supplied)

Here, in his Attitude column, comedian, radio host and podcaster James Barr opens up about why he’s calling time on his role in the award-winning LGBTQ+ podcast to put his energies into fighting for the community that needs him now more than ever.

“They’re like a lovely little couple, except they’re not,” our voiceover narrator Fiona would announce, and then we’d begin. Two men. One gay, one not. Two microphones. A radio studio we definitely didn’t have permission to borrow.  

Dan Hudson’s girlfriend was heading to New York, and to keep us both busy she suggested we start a podcast. We had no idea what we were doing and nothing in common, so I suggested a title: A Gay and A NonGay. It was genuinely just two men with a microphone (the glory days of podcasting) but suddenly, our conversations were radical.  

We were discussing the differences between our sexualities, our experiences, finding middle ground and our attempts at building bridges, all while poking each other with questions about sex, relationships and friendships. “Why are all of your straight mates called Big Dave, Pinhead…?” and so on.  

A decade later, we’ve had a “feed” of award nominations and accolades

We’d discuss douching and the prep involved: “Straight men don’t have to do any admin; they just need a pint and a vagina,” I’d tell my co-host Dan, whose nickname instantly became “NonGay” (he’s still saved in my phone as such 10 years later). 

It was groundbreaking: othering a straight man and framing straight people as “different”. We’d put a straight man in a gay podcast, and we were challenging straight privilege one episode at a time.  

A decade later, we’ve had a “feed” of award nominations and accolades. This year, we even won a Webby Award in New York, the internet’s highest honour. We’ve interviewed world-class guests, met lifelong friends, and bumped into listeners all over the world who have told us how our story helped them to find themselves, come out, or feel braver in their workplaces. I remember an email from a boy who had been listening at school and spotted our podcast on his classmate’s phone. They became boyfriends… What in the Heartstopper was going on?!  

The work has shifted. The radical act now is fighting structural hate, uplifting trans voices, and protecting ourselves

We’d helped a very “NonGay Mum” come to terms with her gay son’s sexuality. She emailed to tell us that they’d listened together in the car and thanked us for opening up difficult conversations between them. Moments like this always felt like our podcast’s purpose. I’m forever proud of what Dan and I have created. For me, and for our listeners, our podcast changed the world. 

But 10 years on, the world has changed. What once felt radical doesn’t feel radical enough to me anymore. Back then, our statement was playful and disruptive; now, the stakes feel so much higher. Donald Trump Jr is calling trans people “more dangerous than Al-Qaeda”, companies are killing DEI while pulling hosts off the air for speaking up, and lawmakers are legislating against our existence. In that context, a bit of banter about our differences feels too small. 

The work has shifted. The radical act now is fighting structural hate, uplifting trans voices, and protecting ourselves. And instead of simply othering straight people or poking fun at their privilege, the task for queer people is to bring them with us into the fight — into solidarity, into action. 

So, after almost 10 years, I’m pressing pause on my role in our podcast

And I’ve changed too. I survived an abusive relationship. Working through that pain has shown me how much healing our own community still needs from within, how deeply our trauma shapes the way we treat each other. That’s where I want to put my energy now — using my comedy to say the hard stuff out loud, so that none of us feel alone.  

Explaining queer life to straight people mattered. But for me, that work feels finished. I’ve loved working with Dan, and I know we’ll continue to create together in the future. Dan’s a beautiful friend. His incredulous commitment to banning so-called “conversion therapy”, uplifting trans lives and working tirelessly to bring attention to our podcast time and time again has taught me the meaning of allyship. Our community needs me more. I need me more.  

So, after almost 10 years, I’m pressing pause on my role in our podcast. It opened doors, it saved people’s lives… in fact, it saved mine. But survival changes you. It changes what you give your energy to. I don’t want to explain myself to straight people anymore — I want to fight. For queer survival, for trans lives, for safety. A Gay and A NonGay has held the door open for our allies — now it’s time for them to walk through it and fight beside us. 


This is from the Attitude Awards 2025 issue. Order your copy now or read it alongside 15 years of back issues on the free Attitude app.