Fox News’ Harris Faulkner Takes Aim At ‘The View’ Host After Tense On-Air Moment - News

Fox News anchor Harris Faulkner puts The View co-host Sunny Hostin on blast after having a negative interaction. Seemingly, Sunny’s approach was more aggressive than anticipated, and Harris is ready to set the record straight.
Harris Faulkner Isn’t Holding Back
Recently, Fox News anchor Harris Faulkner lashed out by declaring the competition is stooping to new lows. Undoubtedly, Harris, 59, isn’t mincing words. Instead, she slams The View for being “myopic” and spewing “vitriol” during their segments.
Fox News anchor Harris Faulkner isn’t holding back when it comes to her opinions about her competition at The View. Harris blasts them, saying, “On The View, there is this sort of shout it, cuss it, do whatever you gotta do to get a little more attention around the hot topics.” On the other hand, The Faulkner Focus overtook the ratings for the first time in January with a different approach. It brought in more than 40,000 viewers above its competitors.
Whoopi Goldberg, Sara Haines, Joy Behar, Sunny Hostin, and Alyssa Farah Griffin. – The View
Furthermore, Harris criticizes that their show has had better days. She notes that when Barbara Walters was there, The View’s reputation held because she was a “powerhouse journalist.” However, she hits hard, saying the panelists now just “talk, talk, talk” and continually are combative.
Additionally, she strikes, saying they aren’t “unique” with their “spicy and passionate” guests. Instead, she explains, “What I do think is unique to them is vitriol.” Seemingly, she thinks that The View is just shouting louder without much sustenance. Contrarily, she notes that early in her career, she was told, “You don’t have to shout breaking news, and you don’t have to shout the truth.” Furthermore, Harris asserts, “I think that’s difficult to do if you only see the world myopically, and that’s the feeling that I get when I watch other shows, The View as an example.”
Harris Faulkner Calls Out Host Sunny Hostin
In particular, Fox News anchor Harris Faulkner gets pointed with The View host Sunny Hostin. As of late, Harris criticizes Sunny for reading “so many apologies on the air recently for the legal exposure of some of the things that she and others have said on the show.” Furthermore, she declares, “That’s dicey.” But her blast didn’t end there. After appearing on The View in 2018, Harris was profoundly offended by Sunny’s mishandling of their discussion. Reflecting, Harris said, “Sunny Hostin came after me.”
It hit her to the core that Sunny would put her on the spot about race when she is a voice for all. She recalls, “Sunny Hostin came after me; they had put a picture of my biracial children on a huge digital wall behind me, and she took the conversation to race.” At the time, Harris was on the show to promote her book and knew her daughters, Bella and Danika, were watching. After Sunny asked her if she felt a responsibility to the black community, Harris redirected, emphasizing she feels a responsibility to everyone. She shared she is in a unique position “Because my daughters are biracial.”
Notably, The Faulkner Focus ended last month with an average total of 2,552,000 viewers, surpassing The View‘s 2,508,000 viewership.
What do you think about Harris Faulkner calling out Sunny Hostin about her experience with The View? What do you think about her assertions? Do you enjoy The View? Do you prefer The Faulkner Focus? Tell us what you think in the comments below.
My brother banned my kids from family dinners while keeping his own invited—so I canceled the cards paying for everyone’s lifestyle, and by sunrise I had 61 missed calls.

Mom gave a thumbs-up when my brother said my children were no longer welcome at family dinners, but she stopped smiling when her credit card was declined that same night.
The first time my brother told me my children were no longer welcome at family dinner, I thought he was joking.
The second time, I realized everyone else already knew.
I stood on my parents’ front porch holding a pecan pie in one hand while my ten-year-old son, Noah, balanced a bowl of mashed potatoes against his chest.
My seven-year-old daughter, Lily, was already reaching for the doorknob.
Then Jason stepped outside and blocked it.
“Emily, we need to talk.”
Behind him, I could hear laughter.
Children’s laughter.
His children.
Twelve-year-old Chase was yelling at his younger sister, Ava, about a video game. My mother was telling them to wash their hands.
The dining room smelled like roasted chicken.
Lily smiled.
“Grandma made biscuits!”
She tried to slip around Jason.
He moved sideways.
“No.”
My daughter stopped.
Jason looked at me.
“Mom didn’t tell you?”
My stomach tightened.
“Tell me what?”
He lowered his voice.
“Sunday dinners are adults only for your kids for a while.”
Noah looked up.
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” Jason said, “you two aren’t coming in tonight.”
Lily stared at him.
“But Chase and Ava are inside.”
Jason’s expression barely changed.
“That’s different.”
There are sentences that divide your life into before and after.
That was one of them.
I looked through the front window.
Jason’s wife, Madison, was pouring herself wine.
My father was carving chicken.
My mother saw me standing outside.
For one second, guilt crossed her face.
Then she looked away.
That hurt more than Jason’s words.
I handed Noah my pie.
“Stay here with Lily.”
Then I stepped closer to my brother.
“Why?”
Jason sighed like I was exhausting him.
“Last week was the final straw.”
The “final straw” had been Noah telling Chase to stop mocking Lily because she needed extra reading help at school.
Chase had called her stupid.
Noah told him to shut up.
Jason decided Noah was “disrespectful.”
“You’re banning my children because my son defended his sister?”
“Your kids bring tension.”
“My kids?”
“Emily, don’t do this.”
I almost laughed.
“Do what?”
“Make everything about money because you’re upset.”
I froze.
I hadn’t mentioned money.
Jason apparently knew exactly where my mind might go.
For seven years, I had been helping my family.
It began when Dad had heart surgery.
Then Jason’s contracting business hit a rough patch.
Then Mom needed dental work.
Then Madison needed “temporary help” with groceries.
Temporary became permanent.
I added family members as authorized users on cards tied to an account I paid every month.
Groceries.
Gas.
Restaurant dinners.
Jason’s SUV payment.
Madison’s country club dues.
My parents’ vacations.
Chase’s baseball travel fees.
Ava’s dance lessons.
There were months I paid more for my brother’s household than I spent on my own.
Nobody talked about it anymore.
My generosity had quietly transformed into infrastructure.
Jason leaned toward me.
“You’re their mother. You can sit out a few dinners until they learn how to behave.”
Behind him, Chase appeared at the window holding a chicken drumstick.
He made eye contact with Noah.
Then he smiled.
Noah looked down.
Something inside me went very still.
“Okay,” I said.
Jason blinked.
“Okay?”
“Enjoy dinner.”
He looked almost disappointed that I wasn’t screaming.
I turned around.
“Come on, guys.”
Lily’s eyes filled with tears.
“But Grandma—”
“We’re having our own dinner.”
Noah carried the pie back toward my car.
Lily followed.
Nobody inside came out to stop us.
Not Mom.
Not Dad.
Nobody.
Jason called after me.
“Emily.”
I turned.
He stood under the porch light with his arms crossed.
“Don’t make this bigger than it is.”
I stared at him.
Then I said the one sentence he would spend the next twelve hours wishing I had never said.
“You’re right. I’ve been making this family much bigger than it is for years.”
I drove my children to a diner.
Noah ordered pancakes.
Lily got chocolate milk.
We laughed more during that meal than we had at a Sunday dinner in months.
After they fell asleep that night, I sat at my kitchen table with my laptop.
I opened the banking app.
Nine authorized cards.
Jason.
Madison.
Mom.
Dad.
Two cards attached to Jason’s business.
Three additional household cards.
I moved my parents’ medications, utilities, and health insurance to direct payments.
I wasn’t going to endanger anyone.
Then I canceled everything else.
Country club.
Restaurants.
Retail.
Travel.
Luxury subscriptions.
Jason’s business expenses.
All of it.
At 11:48 p.m., the final card turned gray.
CANCELED.
I closed my laptop.
For the first time in years, my family’s lifestyle was no longer my responsibility.
I slept beautifully.
At 6:17 the next morning, I woke to my phone vibrating itself across the nightstand.
61 missed calls.
Twenty-three texts.
Nine voicemails.
And one message from my mother that made me sit straight up in bed.
Emily, your brother is here. He found the financial documents. Please come before your father sees them.
I read it twice.
Then a new text arrived.
From Jason.
You have no idea what you just did.
He was wrong.
I knew exactly what I had done.
What I didn’t know yet was what my brother had been doing with my money