Season 4 of The Morning Show Wasn’t a “Feminist” Season … Thankfully
A Season That Begins With the Women on Top … and Then Pulls Back the Curtain
Season four of The Morning Show might have been marketed as a feminist moment, but what it actually delivered was far more interesting, far more aligned with the era we’re living through, and far more spiritually relevant than maybe even the writers realize.
This season wasn’t about women replacing men.
And it for sure wasn’t about Boss Babes, girl-power propaganda, or flipping the patriarchy upside down.
It was about unification.
Yep—U-N-I-T-Y, as Latifah did say (giggles … but I will caveat this to say the unity arc is a slow burn throughout the season).
The season begins with UBA merging with NBN, and suddenly three women—Celine Dumont, Alex Levy, and Stella Bak—are positioned as the trifecta leading the new network’s future. And it looks like the narrative we’ve all been conditioned to expect, right? The era of women in charge.
But the beauty of what the writers did is that they didn’t turn this into propaganda.
They let things fall apart.
They let chaos do what chaos does.
They let the story reveal that leadership cannot stand on feminine energy alone, just as it cannot stand on masculine energy alone.
Why? Because the feminine needs the masculine, and the masculine needs the feminine.
We rise, when we rise together … and for each other.
Origin Stories as Medicine
One of the most powerful elements of this season was its willingness to explore where these characters came from—not in a superficial flashback way, but in a deeply human way.
The character arcs in this season revealed parental wounds, childhood imprints, and the emotional architectures that shaped these adults long before their careers ever did.
And it mirrored something many of us are learning in real time:
If we are going to rise into what this era is asking of us, we must do our own inner work.
We cannot step into embodied leadership with unhealed inner children running the show.
This becomes especially relevant when we look at Alex Levy and her father Martin, or Corey Ellison and his mother Martha, both of whose wounds and histories directly shape the Wolf River scandal at the center of this season’s storyline. The fallout of that scandal is what sends Bradley Jackson, a co-anchor at the network, to Bulgaria.
It’s why Stella’s sense of responsibility and Celine’s maniacal shame spiral also felt so visceral.
These weren’t subplots—these were revelations.
The Masculine Rising — Not to Control, but to Support
This season also revealed one of the most nuanced portrayals of the masculine that we’ve seen on TV recently.
Not toxic masculinity.
Not absent masculinity.
Not caricatured masculinity.
But evolving masculinity.
It was subtle, but damn, was it powerful.
So, I’m going to break down the key character arcs:
Corey Ellison: Formerly the president of UBA before the merger—was the network’s volatile visionary executive whose ambition and emotional complexity defined much of the show’s center of gravity since season one. When the merger happens, he gets pushed out and goes back to his roots as a Hollywood producer in season four. His journey requires confronting deep childhood wounds, including the shocking truth about his mother Martha’s role in his position at UBA and the Wolf River scandal—the very story Bradley Jackson chases down, which ultimately lands her in a Bulgarian prison. When Corey finally chooses honesty, vulnerability, and devotion to his love for Bradley, he rises into a more mature, accountable masculine expression.
Paul Marks: Essentially the show’s Elon Musk—the billionaire tech mogul behind the aerospace company Hyperion. Paul is a man of enormous influence and ego, but in this season, he’s forced into humility—and he chooses it. His resources, influence, and willingness to act become essential to Alex’s efforts in saving Bradley. His character arc is less about alpha dominance, the way it was last season, and more about devotion—the masculine in service, not control.
Chip Black: A former network producer, drops everything the moment Alex and Bradley need him. His support is steady, grounded, and unwavering. He helps them uncover the Wolf River scandal—not for power, but for loyalty, because he doesn’t even work at the network anymore. He also supports Mia Jordan when the network breaks its promise to promote her. His masculinity isn’t loud, flashy, or performative—it’s devoted.
Martin Levy: Martin Levy, Alex’s father, carries decades of misdirected resentment toward her, rooted in the postpartum crisis that led to her mother’s suicide—a grief he unfairly displaced onto his daughter. But when Alex is forced to resign from the network on air, publicly humiliated, Martin rises. He brings his legal brilliance, constitutional expertise, and long-withheld paternal protection to finally support his daughter and ultimately help free Bradley. It was a stunning example of the masculine awakening to responsibility, truth, and repair.
Bro Hartman: Bro is the network’s Joe Rogan—abrasive, performative, and intentionally polarizing. But when anchor Chris Hunter confesses her post-pregnancy steroid use (during her time an olympic track star) on his podcast, Bro refuses to exploit her vulnerability for personal gain. The network offers him the presidential debate hosting role if he sacrifices Chris. He says no—and he adamantly says no—making it clear that he intends to stand by her. It was a brief but meaningful moment of a man choosing not to harm a woman to elevate himself.
What I Mean by Masculine and Feminine Energies
Now, I want to make a small note—because I’ve talked a lot about masculine and feminine.
When I use these terms, I also want to clarify that I’m not simply talking about gender.
We all carry masculine and feminine energies, and these are archetypal forces.
We associate feminine energy with birthing vision, intuition, creativity, and relational depth.
Masculine energy brings structure, protection, clarity, and grounded action.
And the New Paradigm—this Aquarian Age that I keep talking about—requires both.
The Union That Builds Worlds
Ultimately, what was powerful to me was that season four showed us glimpses of what masculine and feminine unification can look like—not just in theory, but in embodiment.
Because ultimately, feminine energy births vision, as I said before, and masculine energy builds structure to support that vision.
One without the other, and the world collapses.
And aren’t we tired of that?
But together, those energies create worlds.
Women rise.
Men rise.
We meet each other.
We rebuild together.
And this isn’t idealism.
This is the energy of now.
This is the New Paradigm.
This is the spiritual evolution we’re living through in real time.
And I’m hoping maybe season five will pick up from there.
© 2025 Lana Jackson. All Rights Reserved.