In Manufacturing Consent, authors Noam Chomsky and Edward S. Herman explore how the American media frames events and creates narratives that serve the interests of the nation’s political, economic, and social elite.
They argue that control of the media in the United States does not take the form of direct state censorship or a formal conspiracy to manage the news. Rather, there is a powerful set of informal restrictions and controls that limit what journalists cover—and how they cover it.
The authors argue that this co-opting of the media happens through an informal, decentralized, yet highly effective propaganda model. They support this theory by exploring the media’s close connections to the nation’s social and economic elite, the financial incentives of big media conglomerates, how news outlets source their stories, and how the mainstream press suppresses divergent and nonconformist views.
Journalists Also Face Formal Government Censorship
Although Chomsky and Herman are mainly concerned with informal, non-state-directed control of the media, there have been recent incidents that have featured the United States government directly interfering with journalists. In 2013, the Obama administration subpoenaed the phone records of close to 100 Associated Press journalists as part of a probe into a story about a CIA operation in Yemen. The Trump administration likewise tried to obtain journalists' communications by seeking email records from New York Times reporters and then placing a gag order on the newspaper, forbidding it from revealing the request.
Incidents like this show that the media is not immune to governmental interference, but Chomsky and Herman’s focus on the more informal pressures that media outlets face implies they believe these pressures are perhaps more dangerous because they're less visible.
Noam Chomsky is a leading public intellectual, linguist, historian, political activist, and social critic. A major figure in the study of language, Chomsky is an intellectual pioneer of groundbreaking linguistics theories such as universal grammar and generative grammar. Long known for his left-leaning political views, Chomsky has, for over half a century, been an outspoken supporter of pacifism, unfettered freedom of speech, economic redistribution, and social justice. One of the most widely cited scholars in the world, he is the author of over 150 books on topics ranging from linguistics to US foreign policy, political science, history, and terrorism.
Edward S. Herman (1925-2017) was a prominent critic of American media and foreign policy. In over 20 published books, Herman made important contributions to contemporary progressive views on corporate power, human rights, and American militarism.
In this guide, we’ve streamlined and updated the authors’ analysis of the media to incorporate themes, topics, and examples that are more relevant for today’s audience, including the internet, social media, and the rise of “fake news.” We’ve also cut some of Chomsky and Herman’s more lengthy case studies, including their analysis of how the media covered the attempted 1981 assassination of Pope John Paul II, the murder of the Polish priest Jerzy Popieluszko by Communist state police in 1984, and the rape and murder of four American nuns at the hands of the US-backed El Salvador National Guard. While these stories were doubtless fresh and relevant for an audience in 1988, we believe that there are more recent examples that can better illustrate the book’s principles for a present-day audience.
Praise and Criticism for Manufacturing Consent
Manufacturing Consent is widely viewed as a landmark work in the field of media scholarship with its groundbreaking insights into how corporate and state power work together to produce propaganda that reinforces the economic, social, and political power structure.
Contemporary reviews from 1988 praised the book for its unique analytical framework in dissecting how the news media aids, abets, and covers up the mistakes of the US government—and American foreign policy in particular. Reviewers noted that Chomsky and Herman’s analysis raised disturbing questions for how the US could expect to lead an effective and moral foreign policy with a journalistic establishment that was so heavily compromised by private and state propaganda. As recently as 2017, investigative journalists cited Manufacturing Consent as one of the most important books ever written on the media and a “bible” for dissident and anti-establishment media critics.
However, reviewers also noted factual errors in the book, for example, failing to give mainstream media outlets credit for when they did harshly criticize deceitful acts by the Reagan administration. Similarly, reviewers criticized the book for what they saw as an inadequate explanation for how, in a supposedly all-powerful propaganda system, grassroots and independent media was still able to expose some of the Reagan administration’s more radical foreign policy actions (such as illegally funding the right-wing Contra movement in Nicaragua).
Finally, the book was heavily criticized for the authors’ apparently selective highlighting of violence and repression by right-wing regimes and their minimizing of violence and genocide by left-wing or Communist regimes (most notably their downplaying of the mass murder of Cambodians at the hands of the Khmer Rouge).
Chomsky and Herman assert that the free press is crucial to the success of a democratic system of government. After all, citizens in a representative democracy need timely and accurate information to make well-informed decisions and participate in self-government.
But, they argue, the American press has failed to meet this need. Instead of working to properly inform the public, the media’s coverage of events reflects and reinforces the political and economic views of the nation’s ruling class.
The authors argue that powerful interests—like politicians, military officials, wealthy media executives, and advertisers—act as media gatekeepers by wielding both financial and political power, thus determining what news is reported, what the public is allowed to see, and the range of opinions that can be expressed and represented in mainstream news outlets.
The Decline of Media Gatekeepers and the Rise of Misinformation
The indirect censorship of media content by political and economic elites can be dangerous to the healthy functioning of a free press and a democratic society. But recent developments have shown that the opposite can also pose a threat to a stable democracy—namely, the complete absence of any media gatekeeping. Indeed, critics argue that media gatekeeping is crucial to sustaining a healthy public discourse by ensuring that only evidence-based and factual stories can reach a wide audience.
Many media critics hoped that the rise of the internet and social media would democratize the media landscape, enable a broader range of voices to be heard, and mitigate elite control of news content. Unfortunately, some observers note, the digitization of media has given rise to a wave of misinformation, as any content creator—regardless of their unscrupulousness, extremism, or lack of adherence to basic journalistic ethics—now has a wide platform to disseminate their views.
Additionally, there is some concern that social media is particularly conducive to the spread of misinformation. According to one study of 126,000 stories shared on Twitter, fake news reaches more people and spreads faster on social media than actual news. Worse, false information tended to reach people six times faster than truthful stories and was 70% more likely to be shared by Twitter users than factual articles.
Chomsky and Herman write that, although there is often significant divergence of opinions on major public issues between elites and the general public, the media consistently favors and promotes the opinions of the political establishment, marginalizes alternative voices, and limits debate and political competition to those relatively few subjects where there is some disagreement between factions of elites—such as between leading politicians of the two major political parties or between two powerful business competitors.
This dynamic can explain why certain political conflicts become major stories and others don’t. For example, the media paid great attention to the story that developed when, in 2019, President Donald Trump threatened to withhold military aid to Ukraine unless the Ukrainian authorities promised to publicly open an investigation into Hunter Biden (the son of Joe Biden, Trump’s reelection opponent).
However, Joe Biden had been a prominent national political figure for 50 years by that point, and his party, the Democratic Party, is one of the two major parties in the American political system. As fellow members of the political establishment, Biden and the Democrats had the means and resources to fight back—specifically by launching a congressional probe into Trump’s political misconduct that resulted in his impeachment on charges of abuse of power and obstruction of Congress.
But Biden isn’t the only political figure Trump attempted to intimidate, smear, or coerce in his efforts to retain political power. In the aftermath of the 2020 presidential election, which Trump refused to concede, he used his influence on social media to harass and intimidate obscure state and local election officials and civil servants—many of them fellow Republicans, but none of whom had the same means and resources to fight back as Biden did. The purpose of Trump’s intimidation campaign was to get these officials to publicly cast doubt on the legitimacy of Biden’s victory, which most of them refused to do. Although, as with Biden, Trump’s efforts were designed to subvert the democratic process, his attacks on local election administrators received far less media coverage.
Centrism, Sensationalism, and Sexism: Other Forms of Bias
The crux of Chomsky and Herman’s argument in this section is that mainstream media has a pro-elite bias, one that largely serves to reflect and amplify the views of the nation’s most powerful economic and political leaders. But other media observers have noted that the set of biases in the media runs deeper than simple elitism and encompasses other blind spots that distort how it covers events, including:
Bias toward centrism, in which the media tends to automatically split the difference between the political left and the political right and treat that middle ground as inherently reasonable or correct—regardless of the actual merits or truth of the left or right positions on a given issue
Bias toward sensationalism, in which the media gravitates toward stories and events that are unusual, eye-catching, or conflict-based, such as Donald Trump’s insults of other politicians on Twitter
Social biases like sexism or racism, which informs how the media covers certain events, like a female candidate running for president or a crime surge in a Black community—reinforcing the fact that the people who report the news are affected by the same biases that affect society as a whole
Chomsky and Herman argue that the media frames issues in a way that serves the interests of the elite.
One way they do this is by defining the terms of the narrative—limiting the terms of debate by deciding which actors are and aren’t worthy of coverage and attention. They further contend that these judgments of newsworthiness nearly always align with the political preferences of the US government. The authors observe that this tendency is particularly striking in how the American press covers foreign affairs.
Thus, human rights abuses in states allied with the US tend to be ignored or downplayed. Meanwhile, human rights abuses in states opposed to the US tend to be given extensive, emotion-laden, and overtly sympathetic coverage.
For example, the US-allied Saudi Arabian royal family heads a regime that is widely regarded as authoritarian and repressive—it forbids women from getting married or traveling internationally without the permission of a male guardian and punishes homosexuality by death.
Yet, when members of that royal family travel to the US, they are given laudatory and fawning media coverage, while their record of human rights abuses is swept under the rug. Meanwhile, the mainstream American press spares few opportunities to vigorously and aggressively condemn the human rights record in adversarial states like Iran.
The Mainstream Media: Cheerleaders for American Militarism?
In this section, the authors argue that the American press has a strong tendency to endorse the US government’s views as they relate to foreign policy, propping up foreign allies while denigrating foreign opponents. Some critics have extended this critique to argue that the press plays a vital role in ginning up domestic support for American military actions—with the 2003 US invasion of Iraq standing out as a notable example.
Indeed, some media observers have called the press’s performance in the run-up to the March 2003 invasion the worst collective failure of the media in modern history. They argue that the mainstream press did little to counter government claims that the Iraqi regime was harboring vast stockpiles of weapons of mass destruction (claims that were later revealed to be untrue) while marginalizing anti-war voices and stigmatizing those skeptical of the war as unpatriotic.
In fact, subsequent investigations revealed that the Pentagon played an active role in shaping pro-military media coverage of the Iraq War. The Pentagon worked closely with the Bush White House to get their preferred “military analysts”—often allied military contractors, lobbyists, and board members with billions of dollars to gain from the prosecution of the war—onto cable news to make the case for invasion. The analysts’ financial stake in the war was seldom, if ever, disclosed to audiences, giving viewers no way of knowing that the content they’d seen had been all but explicitly created and endorsed by the US military establishment.
Moreover, after the invasion of Iraq, the US media consistently downplayed or delayed reporting on human rights abuses committed by the American military, just as they downplayed the human rights abuses of US-allied countries. Shortly after the invasion in 2003, the military and the CIA began subjecting Iraqi detainees to torture and sexual abuse at Abu Ghraib prison near Baghdad. Although a November 2003 Associated Press story documented the abuses at Abu Ghraib, few of the news agency’s members chose to run the story.
In fact, even after the US Command in Iraq itself issued a press release in January 2004 acknowledging that an investigation into abuse at Abu Ghraib was underway, major newspapers like the New York Times, Washington Post, and Boston Globe continued to either minimally cover the story in short articles buried deep in the paper or to ignore it altogether. The story only became a media sensation when, in April 2004, 60 Minutes aired graphic pictures of American military police posing next to naked and hooded Iraqi prisoners.
Chomsky and Herman argue that the elite control of the media has only grown stronger as media companies have merged into powerful corporate conglomerates, thereby reducing competition and giving powerful economic interests a strong incentive to control what the media reports.
According to Chomsky and Herman, large media conglomerates are a powerful filtering system for what does and doesn’t get reported. They argue that this censorship function of for-profit media can be traced back to the 19th century and the rise of the first mass daily newspapers in Europe and the United States.
During this era, the print news business began to grow increasingly profitable. This was in large part due to rising urbanization as a result of the Industrial Revolution, which consolidated potential subscribers into more geographically compact cities and large towns, where it was easier, more cost-effective, and more scalable to deliver newspapers than it was to sparsely populated rural communities. Likewise, rising literacy rates created vast new pools of potential customers.
In such a market, large, well-funded papers had an advantage because they could exploit economies of scale to print and distribute on a massive level at a reduced cost—thereby destroying their competition. Further, the large capital costs of starting a newspaper (requiring expensive printing equipment, materials, and buildings) created high barriers to entry, which made it difficult for upstarts to break into the market. Taken together, these economic forces gave a strong advantage to the wealthy interests that controlled the major dailies.
Mass Media, Vernacular, and the Rise of the Nation-State
Chomsky and Herman write that the rise of mass daily newspapers in the 19th century was a major factor in the consolidation of the media industry. But the growing power of mass media also helped to birth another major historical development—the rise of the nation-state as the dominant form of political organization in Europe.
In Imagined Communities, Benedict Anderson writes that before the 19th century, most Europeans lived in sprawling, multi-ethnic polities like the Russian, German, and Austro-Hungarian Empires. These cosmopolitan states contained a multitude of different language groups and ethnic groups all living under the control of one ruler. But with the 19th-century rise in urbanization and literacy, there was an explosion of newspapers, books, and pamphlets printed in local languages—as opposed to Latin, which had previously been the dominant language of print culture even though most people couldn’t read it.
This development helped to dethrone Latin as the transnational language of European literature and written expression. With Latin no longer acting as a barrier to the written word, the mass public in countries from England to Sweden began to cultivate a new language-based identity and heritage. Gradually, the growth of a class of literate professionals able to consume news and literature printed in their own languages created new bonds and fostered an idea of nationhood—a community of people bound to one another by their shared recognition that they spoke, wrote, and thought in the same language.
In particular, it was the demand created by the new print market that helped to forge these new linguistic identities. Beyond just printing in the vernacular, booksellers sought to appeal to their customers by printing works in standard or uniform versions of a vernacular language—rather than having to adapt each book to suit each local or regional dialect. By transcending local speech, Anderson argues that these new print cultures fused and cemented the idea of a unified national linguistic community.
And this, in turn, facilitated the rise of mass media and major daily newspapers. The existence of a mass reading public that increasingly spoke and read standardized versions of national languages (as opposed to local dialects) helped to create the conditions under which large media outlets with the resources to achieve truly national distribution could thrive.
Although the specific forms of media evolved as the 19th century gave way to the 20th and then the 21st century—from print to radio to film to television to online publications to social media—Chomsky and Herman argue that the power of media as a big business only increased as the industry became more concentrated.
The consolidation of media into a handful of outlets limits the range of voices and perspectives that are available to audiences and inherently biases those views toward those of the wealthy and powerful. For example, today, while anyone can start a small paper or blog, without serious financial backing, they will never come close to having the same audience share as large corporate outlets.
Media Consolidation and the Nationalization of Local News
The consolidation of media has a major impact on the news content that Americans consume. According to one study, local television stations in particular have become an attractive acquisition target for major media conglomerates—largely because local news programs attract a nightly average of 25 million viewers, dwarfing the viewership figures of even the largest cable networks like Fox, CNN, and MSNBC. Indeed, as of 2016, just five companies controlled 37% of the local television market.
Researchers further found that the growing control of local news by major national corporations has shifted news content away from local stories toward more national ones and has given that content a more explicitly political bent. For example, in the case of Sinclair Broadcast Group (whose nearly 200 stations reach close to 40% of the US population), the nationalization of news coverage has gone hand-in-hand with a tilt toward the political right.
Stations owned and operated by Sinclair have forced local anchors to read conservative-leaning political commentary, such as an on-air statement about the dangers of “fake news” that closely mirrored Trump’s attacks on the mainstream media.
Chomsky and Herman argue that corporate media outlets value profit above truth or news value. This is because they cater to advertisers, shareholders, and wealthy individual investors.
Further, they contend, many outlets are owned by powerful conglomerates or by ultra-wealthy individuals that have business interests in non-media industries like e-commerce, energy, consumer goods, and financial services. This pushes news coverage to reflect the preferred views of industry and, by extension, to marginalize consumer, labor, or anti-capitalist views.
(Shortform note: Indeed, some mainstream news editors are remarkably frank about their pro-capitalist bias. In 2017, then-New York Times editorial section chief James Bennett spoke to fellow Times employees about the paper’s need to be objective and for the op-ed section to be a welcome place for voices from across the political spectrum. But he made a notable exception to this mandate for objectivity: capitalism. Bennett declared that the Times was unequivocally pro-capitalist, citing capitalism as history’s greatest engine for lifting humanity out of poverty.)
For example, The Washington Post is solely owned by Amazon founder Jeff Bezos—who, as of January 2022, has an estimated net worth of $191 billion, making him one of the richest people in the world. It’s true that The Washington Post is not owned by Amazon itself. But the e-commerce giant (which also has investments in its video streaming platforms, film production, and even retail supermarkets through its ownership of Whole Foods) and the newspaper do share an owner—and some critics would argue that this arrangement creates an inherent conflict of interest for the newspaper.
For instance, it might be difficult for Post journalists to objectively cover (or for readers to expect the paper to objectively cover) controversial topics related to Amazon—like the allegedly dangerous conditions in the company’s warehouses—knowing that the paper’s owner has a direct financial stake in what happens with Amazon.
Further, media companies (or the conglomerates that own them) typically do business with large banks and other financial institutions when they do IPOs or acquisitions; meanwhile, banks and other economic power centers are themselves heavily in media as a business. For example, The Walt Disney Company’s top shareholders include investment advisor The Vanguard Group, asset management giant BlackRock, and insurance conglomerate State Farm. In practice, this means that the media shares the same profit motive as the powerful corporations they’re supposed to be covering objectively.
The “Journalism Crisis” and the Effort to Solve It
Some industry observers argue that corporate control of the news media and the subsequent pursuit of profit above all other concerns has contributed to a “journalism crisis.” In an effort to reduce costs (and thereby increase profits), media conglomerates have cut journalism jobs at an alarming rate. One study showed that approximately 28,000 journalists, photographers, editors, and other workers in the media sector lost their jobs from 2008 to 2018, with newsroom employment falling by an alarming 26% over that time. This has hit local newspapers the hardest, as 1,400 cities and towns across the country have lost their local newspapers over the past 15 years.
Some prominent politicians, like Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren, believe that this represents a grave crisis for American democracy that makes it difficult for ordinary citizens to stay informed about important issues happening both in their communities and in the country as a whole. In response, they have proposed plans to wrest control of the media away from powerful corporate entities—including a moratorium on major media mergers, mandatory disclosure of plans to lay off journalists, and giving employees the opportunity to purchase media outlets through their own joint stock-ownership plans before corporate mergers can be approved by the Federal Trade Commission.
Chomsky and Herman further argue that the pursuit of advertising revenue gives big media another tool they can use to undercut competition and stifle alternative viewpoints.
Major media outlets attract advertising revenue because the size of their audiences makes them desirable places for large corporations to place ads. Beyond just the size of their audiences, elite publications like the Wall Street Journal or New York Times tend to have more affluent audiences—which means that their readers have greater buying power, which makes these outlets more attractive to advertisers. For example, 38% of both the Wall Street Journal and New York Times audiences report earning more than $75,000 per year—while just 26% of the public reports family incomes that high.
When major media outlets attract advertisers, they are able to lower subscription fees or even offer their content for free online with no paywall—giving them a powerful market advantage over smaller rivals. These smaller or non-mainstream outlets—which are more likely to showcase alternative political and economic ideas—lack such an option. They can’t attract the same amount of ad revenue because their readership or viewership figures are too small for major advertisers to place ads with them.
Further, contend Chomsky and Herman, media outlets that wish to draw in ad revenue often bend over backwards to make themselves desirable places for large advertisers. This means moderating content to weed out any tone or viewpoint that large and powerful business interests might find threatening. For example, a publication whose official editorial position advocates massive increases in corporate income and capital gains taxes, the breakup of corporate entities with more than a 10% market share, and the mandatory inclusion of labor representatives on corporate boards is extremely unlikely to draw in lucrative ad revenue from major corporations vehemently opposed to such policies.
As a result, such publications and others that are geared toward radical, working-class, or anti-establishment audiences are forced to rely solely on subscriptions or donations to remain solvent. For this reason, they tend to have a much narrower reach. In practice, this gives economic elites another powerful veto over how and what news is presented to the public.
Media Co-Ops: A New Business Model for Media?
Some media commentators have suggested that media co-operatives could be a viable alternative to for-profit or advertiser-dependent business models, and could help prevent some of the abuses that a reliance on advertising brings. Media co-ops are relatively common in the UK, where they’re financed through community shares, a form of joint-stock ownership that enables the public to purchase shares of various enterprises, from professional sports teams to shops, pubs, housing projects—and, now, media outlets. The investors don’t earn a financial return from their equity stake, but they do earn a “social return” from enabling socially valuable enterprises to keep operating—like independent media organizations.
Community shares are more democratic than traditional stocks—each shareholder receives one vote at the annual general meeting, regardless of how many shares they own, and also has the right to run for positions on the board. Therefore, no wealthy individual or corporation can buy a large enough equity position to seize control of the enterprise.
For media outlets, this ownership model could serve as an important check on corporate and advertiser power. Customer-owners would be able to exercise a meaningful say over how the enterprise operates; they could, for example, block advertising from disreputable sources or halt a proposed takeover by a media conglomerate.
Chomsky and Herman write that mass media relies on political and economic elites for sources and content, giving these groups another means by which they can shape news content.
Media outlets need enough content to fill airtime in a competitive, 24-hour news environment, but even the biggest media outlets can’t have reporters and camera crews stationed in all places at all times to record anything newsworthy that might be happening.
Therefore, reporters heavily rely on sources that can consistently provide content—namely, members of Congress, the White House, large corporations, the Pentagon, and other centers of economic and political power. These large, powerful institutions are able to provide consistent content because they have the financial resources to run sophisticated public relations departments dedicated to issuing press releases and hiring spokespeople. In this way, they provide a crucial component that the business model of the 24-hour news cycle demands.
Smaller institutions, meanwhile, or those that exist to challenge the status quo (like labor unions, environmental groups, and consumer watchdogs) tend to lack such resources and are generally less “visible,” meaning large media outlets are less likely to seek out their perspectives.
(Shortform note: In the mid-20th century, major daily newspapers like the New York Times, Washington Post, and Chicago Tribune did have beat reporters assigned to covering labor unions and worker-related issues. But major media has decidedly turned its focus away from organized labor in recent decades—in part due to the fact that only 11% of American workers now belong to a labor union, a far cry from the 35% unionization rate the labor movement enjoyed at its peak in 1954. Today, all these newspapers have dropped their full-time labor beats, with the Wall Street Journal now the only daily newspaper that still maintains a labor reporter.)
Naturally, contend Chomsky and Herman, this dynamic puts a great deal of media and communications power in the hands of PR operatives from the nation’s most powerful institutions. These figures quench the media’s insatiable thirst for content by providing the press releases, advance speeches, cable news talking heads, industry-sponsored studies, and sound bites that make up the bulk of news content.
(Shortform note: Contrary to the authors’ assertion, some research suggests that journalists are relying less and less on press releases for their sources of news content. One 2018 study of over 500 journalists showed that only 30% reported relying heavily on press releases. Within the United States, 53% of journalists said they did not use press releases at all.)
The authors argue that powerful government and corporate figures have multiple tactics at their disposal to discredit, harass, intimidate, and, ultimately, suppress media outlets and individual journalists that threaten them.
Chomsky and Herman write that when media outlets or individual reporters produce coverage that portrays powerful institutions or individuals in a positive light, they’re rewarded with more access—scoops, credentials to press conferences, soundbites, and exclusive interviews. This gives these journalists a competitive advantage over their rivals.
Likewise, powerful institutions and individuals can punish media sources they dislike by cutting off their access to exclusive content, allowing them to be scooped by their rivals. For example, in 2017, Trump administration press secretary Sean Spicer barred multiple mainstream news outlets from White House press briefings, citing what he deemed as unfavorable and biased coverage against the administration. The barred outlets included the New York Times, Politico, CNN, BuzzFeed, the BBC, and the Daily Mail. Spicer instead allowed exclusive access to conservative media sources that he viewed as more favorable to Trump.
Can the Media Deny Powerful Politicians a Platform?
Chomsky and Herman argue that powerful politicians can use the media’s near-insatiable demand for scoops and exclusives against it by providing them only to outlets that offer favorable coverage. But what they don’t say is that the media can also do the same thing—deny a forum or platform to politicians it dislikes, distrusts, or whose claims it believes to be extreme, dangerous, or unfounded. After Donald Trump began vocally calling into question the integrity of the 2020 election and lobbing baseless claims of fraud during White House press briefings, major networks such as CBS, NBC, MSNBC, and ABC took the extraordinary step of cutting away from his live briefing and fact-checking his claims in real-time.
Powerful and wealthy corporations can use their financial clout to bring recalcitrant media to heel by refusing to buy advertising. Since the business model for most media companies relies heavily on advertising revenue, companies that act in concert and refuse to purchase ads in certain print, broadcast, or digital outlets can have a significant effect on an outlet’s finances.
The authors argue that this type of coordinated action denies media outlets a crucial source of income and makes it more likely that they’ll alter the tone and content of their coverage to win their advertisers back.
Did the Facebook Ad Boycott Have Any Effect?
Despite the claims of the authors, some commentators assert that ad boycotts are generally ineffective at changing how media outlets operate. In 2020, the civil rights group #StopHateForProfit organized an advertiser boycott against Facebook in response to what they saw as the company’s failure to stop the spread of hate speech and fake news across its platform. Over 1,000 companies publicly participated in the boycott. During this time, Facebook’s top 100 advertisers—including major public companies like Procter & Gamble, Samsung, Walmart, and Geico—significantly pulled back their spending on the platform, collectively spending $30 million less in ads than they had the year before.
Despite the financial hit to Facebook, however, the dip in advertiser spending seems to have done little to damage the tech giant in the long term, as most of the companies that participated in the boycott signaled their intention to resume purchasing Facebook ads by August 2020.
However, it could be argued that the boycott—despite its limited financial impact on Facebook—did succeed in compelling the company to change some of its practices. Partly in response to the pressure campaign, Facebook worked with the Global Alliance for Responsible Media to produce an independent audit which found that the company’s decisions and policies created an online environment where hate and misinformation could flourish. The company also announced the hiring of a civil rights executive—although critics derided this move as spin and an attempt to put window dressing on what they saw as the toxic culture and business practices of Facebook.
Chomsky and Herman write that politicians who dislike the coverage they get from certain platforms (often because they think it is partial to their political rivals), can use their direct regulatory and investigative power to harass and intimidate those media outlets. For example, Rodrigo Duterte, president of the Philippines has used hardball tactics to silence and intimidate journalists. One online media outlet, Rappler, has been banned from participating in press conferences, while its journalists have been subjected to death and rape threats by Duterte-aligned social-media users. At the same time, the company has been selectively targeted by state prosecutors on trumped-up financial charges.
The Bipartisan Case for Regulating Facebook
Unlike Chomsky and Herman, some argue that better regulation of powerful media platforms can serve the public good. The subject of state regulation of media has been a hot topic in the United States, with prominent politicians from both major political parties calling for increased regulation of content on social media platforms like Facebook. On the Republican side, conservative populists like Senator Josh Hawley of Missouri have argued that Facebook is a dangerous monopoly that should be broken up using the federal government’s antitrust enforcement powers because it silences conservative voices.
On the Democratic side, meanwhile, President Joe Biden supports the repeal of Section 230 of the Communication Decency Act of 1996, which protects sites like Twitter and Facebook from liability for any content published by users on their platforms. Biden argues that Section 230 has enabled social media platforms to become havens for misinformation on topics from Covid-19 to election fraud that pose a serious threat to the country’s general welfare. He asserts that the law should be changed to make these companies liable for false, defamatory, and violent content posted by their users.
The authors argue that deep-pocketed interests and individuals can use the legal system to shut down non-compliant or adversarial media. They often do this by initiating litigation (often on frivolous libel or defamation grounds) against the targeted media outlet.
Chomsky and Herman note that, technically, in the United States, the media has broad legal protection from criminal liability for what it writes or broadcasts (particularly with regard to public figures and government officials) under the First Amendment. But, they observe, this does not always shield it from private civil litigation. Thus, a billionaire who holds a vendetta against a particular media outlet can initiate legal action against it. Even if the billionaire doesn’t prevail in court, they can sometimes succeed in financially destroying the targeted media platform by forcing it to pay exorbitant legal fees just to defend itself.
Perhaps the most well-known example of this phenomenon is the financial destruction of Gawker, a gossip blog, by PayPal billionaire Peter Thiel. Thiel was outraged when, in 2007, Gawker published an article outing him as gay. In response, Thiel spent $10 million to bankroll a third-party lawsuit against Gawker brought by former professional wrestler Hulk Hogan, who alleged that Gawker had libeled him when it posted his sex tape without his consent.
In 2016, a jury in Florida sided with Hogan and awarded him a $140 million judgment. The ruling bankrupted Gawker and forced it to shut down. Some commentators argue that the results of this episode could have a chilling effect on media coverage of powerful Silicon Valley figures for years to come.
The Abuse of English Libel Law
Some think tanks have argued that libel laws in the UK—and in England in particular—pose a serious threat to the practice of free journalism.
In most jurisdictions around the world, the burden of proof for libel is with the plaintiff, who must prove in court that the defendant intentionally published false and malicious statements that harmed their reputation. But under English law, the burden of proof for libel lies with the defendant, who must prove that their published statement is true. In fact, for a plaintiff to win a libel suit in England, they don’t even need to prove that the defendant’s statement was false—merely that it harmed their reputation.
This creates an uneven playing field in English libel cases, one that gives an inherent advantage to powerful and wealthy interests who wish to intimidate or silence journalists. One study showed that journalists and publishers faced more lawsuits and threats of court action from the UK than from all other European countries and the United States combined.
Perhaps most worryingly, journalists and publishers don’t even have to be British citizens to be sued there—as long as there is some connection to the UK, however tenuous (as would be the case, for example, with any published piece of digital content available to users in the country), media outlets are vulnerable to potentially ruinous litigation. In recent years, publishers from Bosnia, Cyprus, Malta, South Africa, and Angola have all been threatened with litigation in London.
On a more extreme level, note the authors, wealthy and powerful interests can use their economic resources to fund anti-media organizations. Such organizations are primarily—although not exclusively—associated with the political right and are designed to discredit and intimidate mainstream media.
For example, Project Veritas, founded by conservative provocateur James O’Keefe, is well-known for its tactics of using undercover sting operations and “gotcha” videos (often recorded without the subjects’ consent and later deceptively edited) to expose what it sees as left-wing bias in mainstream media outlets like CNN and NPR. Notably, Project Veritas has received significant funding from Donors Trust (a donor-advised fund used to coordinate the political spending of the conservative Koch family) as well as the Donald J. Trump Foundation.
Fox News and Alternative Reality
Some media commentators have argued that conservative cable news network Fox News is the living embodiment of the kind of anti-media organization described by Chomsky and Herman. Writing in 1988, the authors warned of (primarily right-leaning) organizations that existed to discredit or harass mainstream media organizations. But it would have been difficult for them to foresee the reach and power of Fox News—an outlet that many argue functions as a form of alternative reality for its viewers, allowing them to forego mainstream media and established facts altogether and replace them with a worldview shaped by propaganda.
Further, some analysis suggests that the alternative reality created by Fox has major impacts on events in the “real” world. One 2006 paper argued that the Republican Party benefited substantially from the debut of Fox News in U.S. cable markets in October of 1996. According to the data, the GOP gained between 0.4 and 0.7 percentage points in its share of the presidential vote between 1996 and 2000 in towns and cities where Fox News was available. They further calculate that the cable news outlet persuaded between 3% and 28% of its total audience to vote Republican.
Given the incredibly close margins in the 2000 presidential election, this would indicate that George W. Bush owed his victory in the state of Florida (and thus, the election) to Fox News.
Think about how and where you get your news.
Where do you primarily get your news from (television, print media, social media)?
Is there a particular source or form of media that you trust more than others? Explain why or why not.
Do you find that you tend to gravitate toward media sources that reflect your personal worldview? Explain your answer.
Are you interested in expanding your media consumption habits to incorporate more sources that challenge or contradict your views? How do you think you might do this?
Think about how the government and powerful corporations influence the media.
Do you think it’s possible for the news to achieve some standard of objectivity or truth, or do you think news coverage is inevitably biased? Explain your answer.
How do you think ordinary citizens can demand better and more objective reporting from mainstream media outlets?
What structural changes do you think might help media outlets better resist the influences of powerful institutions and individuals?