When a president talks about yanking broadcasters’ licences, what happens to free speech?
When a U.S. president publicly urges regulators to punish television networks for negative coverage, it lands like a geological tremor for newsrooms accustomed to partisan heat but not regulatory menace. This week, President Donald Trump doubled down on his long-running assault on American journalism, calling the nation’s TV networks “97% bad” and saying, bluntly, that their behaviour was “illegal” — comments that came as the Federal Communications Commission’s head, Brendan Carr, faced criticism for signaling tougher action against broadcasters.
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The rhetoric immediately produced a real-world consequence: ABC abruptly suspended comedian Jimmy Kimmel’s late-night show. Whether the move was directly tied to Friday’s Oval Office remarks is still being debated in newsrooms, but for many journalists and producers the timing felt chilling.
What was actually said
“They’ll take a great story and they’ll make it bad. See I think it’s really illegal, personally,” Mr. Trump told reporters in the Oval Office, repeating a familiar refrain that media coverage of him is overwhelmingly negative. He also praised Mr. Carr, calling him “an incredible American patriot with courage,” after the FCC official signalled he could wield fines or licensing threats against broadcasters.
The pushback was swift and bipartisan in tone if not in content. Senator Ted Cruz, one of Mr. Trump’s closest Senate allies, warned that allowing government officials to decide which speech is acceptable is “right out of ‘Goodfellas,'” likening it to a mafioso’s veiled threats: “Nice bar you have here. It would be a shame if something happened to it.”
At the same time, the president suffered a legal setback: a federal judge tossed Mr. Trump’s $15 billion defamation lawsuit against The New York Times — a reminder that the courts remain an independent check on expansive claims against the press.
What regulators can — and can’t — do
It is important to separate the theatrical from the practical. The FCC, created to regulate interstate communications, does hold authority over broadcast licences, but revoking a network’s licence is rare, legally fraught and would almost certainly trigger protracted court battles. Historically, the agency has pursued licence revocations only in cases of severe, provable wrongdoing — not because a network expresses political criticism.
Moreover, broadcasting in the United States has evolved. Cable and streaming services now sit alongside traditional over-the-air stations; the public consumes news on platforms that fall outside the FCC’s classic licensing model. Reasserting control over what appears as editorial content would raise constitutional issues under the First Amendment and would likely prompt sweeping legal challenges.
Why the threat still matters
Even if a forced revocation is implausible, the rhetoric carries power. Executives at networks and producers of political satire are familiar with pressure that never has to reach the courthouse to produce compliance: a sudden review, a delay in an advertising buy, an internal memo cautioning talent. That chilling effect can be as consequential as formal penalties.
“You don’t need a penalty to change behaviour,” said a senior network editor who requested anonymity to speak candidly. “If staff worry their livelihoods could be collateral, you’ll see choices made in editorial meetings that wouldn’t happen otherwise.”
Late-night satire in the crosshairs
The suspension of Jimmy Kimmel’s show — a late-night program that mixes comedy and commentary — underscores a thorny question: how should satire be treated in a polarized media landscape? Late-night has historically served as a cultural pressure valve, a space where comedians critique power in ways that mainstream news does not.
When satire is targeted, it isn’t just another show on a schedule; it is a form of civic commentary. The decision to pull a program — even temporarily — ripples through writers’ rooms and comedy clubs, shaping what can be joked about and how.
Global echoes
Across the world, leaders who feel threatened by criticism have sought to tighten control over information, from formal laws on “false news” to slanted regulatory enforcement. Reporters Without Borders has documented declines in press freedom in many democracies, while authoritarian states have used licensing, intimidation and legal tools to silence dissent.
That makes the U.S. rhetoric especially consequential. If an advanced, rights-oriented democracy appears willing to weaponise regulatory tools against critical outlets, it offers a model that less democratic governments can point to — even if the legal and institutional contexts differ.
Where this leaves journalists and the public
There are practical and civic questions worth asking right now. How far can an administration push regulators without triggering a constitutional crisis? Are media organisations prepared for the subtler forms of pressure that can produce self-censorship? And what responsibility do broadcasters have to protect their staff and the independence of their editorial decisions?
Those are not abstract queries. In the newsroom this week, conversations turned to contingency planning and the emotional toll of operating under what one producer called “the new normal” of political hostility. For viewers, the stakes are whether the information ecosystem will continue to offer a multiplicity of voices or narrow under the strain.
History shows that the health of public debate depends as much on customs and institutions as on formal law. The U.S. retains robust legal protections for speech, and independent courts have rebuffed at least one of the president’s most aggressive media attacks. But democracy also depends on norms — the idea that regulators will not be used as cudgels against political critics — and norms can erode faster than laws.
As this episode unfolds, Americans and observers abroad should be asking not just what regulators can do, but what kind of public square they want: one where journalists can critique power without fear, or one where criticism risks real-world retaliation. Which model suits a healthy democracy?
By Abdiwahab Ahmed
Axadle Times international–Monitoring.
