Whoopi Goldberg and her co-hosts on The View pushed a simple but crucial point about the Epstein files: names alone don’t equal guilt, and dumping raw documents into the public square can do more harm than good. The released records mix travel logistics and raw tips with verifiable evidence, and the resulting confusion has fed conspiracy theories and unfair public scrutiny. That disconnect is glaring when the same standards aren’t applied equally to political figures like President Trump.
The View’s exchange highlighted how casual entries and logistical notes got mixed into a trove the public treats like a verdict. Co-hosts walked through examples that show mundane mentions — a request for a plane, a charity paying travel costs — can become misleading headlines once the context is stripped away. That matters because public exposure without verification drags reputations through the mud on the basis of scraps and rumors.
“Now, in the name of transparency, can you put up, uh, my name is in the files?” Goldeberg said. “Yes. And what does it say? It says, ‘Whoopi needs a plane to get to Monaco. John Lennon’s charity,’ it should say Julian Lennon’s charity, ‘is paying for it. They don’t, uh, they don’t want to charter. So they’re looking for private owners. Here’s the info.’ And they give all the information. And they’re saying, do you want to offer your G2? Okay.”
“And it looks like they said, no, thanks,” another co-host chimed in. “So in other words, anybody can be on this list,” Joy Behar said. Those moments drove the point home: the documents include routine entries and third-party notes that do not amount to proof of criminal behavior. The media’s rush to sensationalize names benefits nobody except rumor mills.
“Well, this is my point because I’m telling you, when I tell you people are trying to turn me into… I wasn’t his girlfriend. I wasn’t his friend,” Goldberg went on. “I was not only too old, but it was at a time, you know, where this is just not; you used to have to have facts before you said stuff.” Her frustration is understandable when sloppy release practices let innuendo masquerade as reporting.
Those same loose standards, however, are often absent when the story implicates powerful political targets. Behar pointed out, “But Trump is on the list 38,000 times,” while Goldberg replied, “Well, I can’t speak to him, but I’m speaking about me because I’m getting dragged,” Goldberg said. “People actually believe that I was with him. It’s like, honey, come on. Every man that I’ve ever been with, you’ve known about them because either the inquirer wrote about it. People wrote about this stuff. So no, I never had this, you know, and no, I didn’t get on the plane because you know what I would have to do to get on the plane?”
“But the thing is, they dropped like 300 names,” a co-host noted. “And it’s like flood the zone because when you’re looking, there are people like Marilyn Monroe, who was dead. Elvis.” The hosts used those examples to show how careless aggregation dilutes real evidence, turning investigation into spectacle. When names are presented without verification, the narrative becomes whichever side shouts loudest.
“Because a lot of the reasons your name can be mentioned are news articles, third-party emails, and contacts. Again, wealthy, famous people often cross in professional and social circles. So that’s not the surprising part.” Applied consistently, that logic undercuts the idea that raw inclusion equals guilt. It also exposes how leaked files can be weaponized by partisan actors and opportunists.
The Department of Justice noted when releasing the files that some information could be entirely fabricated or sensationalized, designed to stoke conspiracy theories, including about the president’s alleged involvement. Alarmingly, some of these false claims have even been echoed by elected officials. That admission from the DOJ underscores why context, verification, and restraint matter before turning mountains of documents into public theater.
This production may include fake or falsely submitted images, documents or videos, as everything that was sent to the FBI by the public was included in the production that is responsive to the Act. Some of the documents contain untrue and sensationalist claims against President Trump that were submitted to the FBI right before the 2020 election. To be clear, the claims are unfounded and false, and if they have a shred of credibility, they certainly would have been weaponized against President Trump already.
Releasing raw submissions without careful vetting hands political opponents a ready-made narrative and invites media outlets to fill gaps with speculation. Conservatives have warned for years that a rush to publicize unverified material can become a political cudgel, and this episode proves the fear was justified. Responsible reporting would separate genuine evidence from gossip before dumping everything into public view.
What viewers saw on The View was a reminder that transparency and truth are not synonyms for unfiltered leaks. When officials or outlets decide to publish everything, they should also commit to explaining what is credible and what is not. Until that standard holds across the board, the public will keep getting a raw, misleading feed that rewards noise over facts.
