THE INTERVIEW: ‘All I Have Is The Power To Talk And Be Heard’

Tucker Carlson - Wikipedia

Tucker Carlson on pitying Donald Trump, never listening to podcasts, and planning a new political party—while selling you nicotine pouches.

BY AMOS BARSHAD

On a recent afternoon, I drove down a wooded Maine road, past serene ponds with no people in sight, until I reached a big white barn. I parked, in patchy grass, near a Ford F-350 with a crane bolted onto the back, an American flag, and an idling black SUV. A guy in the driver’s seat of the SUV, whose tattoos peeked out beneath the sleeves of a white dress shirt, sent me thirty feet down the road to another guy, in a large white SUV, who politely told me to wait. Tucker Carlson was still recording.

I wouldn’t have been surprised to see anyone—a United States senator? A prison guard claiming to have evidence that Jeffrey Epstein was murdered? Donald Trump?—walk out of that barn. Carlson, who is fifty-seven, occupies a singular space in American media: after decades in corporate television, most famously at Fox News, he now hosts The Tucker Carlson Show, a video podcast, where he can and does follow his every whim, taking his hordes of fans along with him. A recent episode, “The Secret History of Biblical Giants,” has 1.5 million views on YouTube.

Eventually, Carlson—boyish, tanned, wearing an outdoorsman vest and New Balances—welcomed me into the barn. As I entered, I passed that day’s interviewee: Nick Maynard, an English surgeon who has worked extensively treating Gazan victims of Israeli air strikes.

On his show, Carlson advocates long-held hard-line conservative views, which include total opposition to immigration, abortion, and trans rights. He also takes a strong stand against war: Carlson has vociferously denounced the American and Israeli attacks on Iran—during which over thirteen thousand targets have been bombed and more than three thousand people killed—as well as Israel’s post–October 7 assault on Gaza. Carlson has personally lobbied Trump, whom he’s known at least since both were NBC television personalities, not to attack Iran. He’s an imperfect vessel for the anti-war argument, but his reach and influence may make him America’s most prominent crusader for the cause.

Because of his reputation among American conservatives, Carlson can book guests such as Ted Cruz, the Republican senator from Texas, and grill them on their warmongering. In a 2025 interview that went viral, Carlson asked Cruz to tell him the population of Iran; Cruz couldn’t do it. “You’re a senator who’s calling for the overthrow of the government,” Carlson shouted in response, “and you don’t know anything about the country!” It was a rare thing: a complete pantsing of a powerful public figure. “I am always struck by the ignorance of policymakers,” Carlson told me. “I wanted him to feel shame. And he felt no shame.”

Carlson’s relevance is rooted in the fact that he can both book Cruz and embarrass him. It’s also connected to his symbiosis with a subset of Republicans. According to a recent New York Times/Siena poll of self-identified Republicans and Trump voters, nearly 60 percent of those with a “very favorable” view of Carlson say “they want the next Republican presidential nominee to take the party in a new direction.”

What may be most significant about Carlson now is that his campaign against the Iran war and Israel’s influence on the American political system has placed him in strange cultural territory: suddenly, he has fans on the left. Cenk Uygur, the creator of the progressive news show The Young Turks, has cheered Carlson for criticizing Trump’s attacks on Muslims. When Olivia Reingold, a writer for the Free Press, compiled a dossier against Rama Duwaji, the First Lady of New York City, one of Reingold’s ostensibly damning reveals was that Duwaji had liked a Carlson post criticizing AIPAC.

Peter Beinart—the editor-at-large at Jewish Currents and a prominent Israel critic—has pushed back on the left’s support for Carlson, arguing in a recent Substack video that any progressive who is going on Carlson’s show “should not leave your principles at the door. If you’re against bigotry” and “the argument that somehow white Christians are superior to Black and brown immigrants,” then don’t “ignore all of that because you think you’re working with him to try to turn US policy against Israel.” Carlson recently spoke to Lulu Garcia-Navarro, a journalist for the New York Times, who pressed him about his interview with Nick Fuentes, the white-nationalist influencer.

Carlson often starts his podcast episodes with lengthy, showy monologues. He doesn’t write them down, he told me, instead sketching them out in his head during daily sauna sessions. The monologues encapsulate both his appeal and the fear he strikes in people. Whatever the topic—biblical giants, Christian nationalism, Gaza—he is a preternaturally compelling speaker. At one point in our conversation, he fell into a reverie describing all the cigarettes he smoked in Dubai while sitting down with an aide to Benjamin Netanyahu, Israel’s prime minister. “I love smoking so much,” Carlson said. These days, though, he mostly gets his fix via his own nicotine-pouch brand, ALP, which stands for American Lip Pillow.

Carlson’s barn, in the town of Woodstock—his family has owned the barn for years, and their summer home is nearby—feels like a GOP-themed chain restaurant. Nearly every spare inch is covered with taxidermy or Republican memorabilia. Carlson took a seat under a big stuffed bear head and torso, near a Nixon/Agnew sign and a Bush ’88 ashtray. He spit out an ALP, popped in a new one—with twelve milligrams of nicotine, he made sure to point out, making it one of the most potent pouches on the market—and we began talking. Our conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

AB: Fox fired you in 2023. Did you anticipate any of what would come next?

TC: No! I don’t anticipate where I’m going to be after dinner tonight. I’m not a planner. I never have been. A lot of our producers got fired with me. We immediately pivoted from television to the internet. It was actually a lot easier than I thought. We had the Fox studio in the other part of the barn: they came and took all their cameras and the lighting rig and the soundproofing.

I certainly did not anticipate talking about Israel. I had been on TV for thirty years. I don’t think I had ever really talked about Israel. From my perspective, I got pushed into it.

How so?

I felt I had no choice. Early in 2025, Netanyahu showed up at the White House right after Trump’s inauguration, and I thought, “This is a little early to be siphoning off the energy from this campaign and this election for the benefit of another country.” And I resented it. I very quickly began to understand the point of these visits was a regime-change effort in Iran. And that’s something that I talked to Trump about many times over ten years. Fifty times! More! In public, but mostly in private.

The breaking point and the huge change in my life came in June of 2025, with the Twelve-Day War—which was not about Iran’s nuclear program. It was the first salvo in a regime-change effort led by Israel. And that’s just antithetical to everything Trump ran on.

I’ve been to Israel several times, both for work and as a visitor. I love Jerusalem—amazing city—but I’m not interested in Israel. I don’t think it’s significant as a country from an American perspective. It’s not in our hemisphere. It’s got no resources. So I just don’t care. But once you start taking over my political system and destroying my country, then I have a right to care. So now I do care.

When you’re trying to dissuade Trump from going to war, what do you see as your role? Are you speaking as a concerned American or as a journalist?

What category do I occupy? I haven’t the faintest idea. I’m not interested at all in defining it. I’m not a politician, that’s for sure. I’m not a rival to Trump for power. I have no power. I’m someone who knows Trump, and I know him well, and I’ve known him for a long time. I can call him. He often calls me.

Do you still speak to Trump?

I haven’t spoken to him since the regime-change war began. I’m not interested in talking to him. I feel sorry for him. He’s not a man in charge of his own life at this point. I feel sorry for anybody who’s enslaved, including him. I mean, I visited him three times at the White House in the month before the Twelve-Day War, and I told him the same thing all three times: “You’re not gonna see the rise of a democratic, pro-Western government in Tehran. The best you’re gonna see there is just this suppurating wound.” And he said, “I know.”

What is it really about, in Trump’s mind? Why did he destroy himself? His administration? His legacy? The Republican Party and America? I don’t know, but maybe someone at CJR should get on this and find out.

Okay, so, three years after leaving Fox, you’re suddenly one of the most prominent anti-war voices in America—

It’s not hard, because no one else is against it! Where is everybody?

Are you surprised to find yourself in this position?

Well, no. I’ve been against war since December of 2003, when I was in Iraq and I was highly distressed by it. So I’ve had the same views for twenty-three years now, more or less. But I just stayed away from Israel because—and I would say this to people who worked for me at Fox—it’s not worth it. It’s too personal. The unwritten rule is that criticism of Israel is criticism of all Jews, and because I am not against Jews, it’s not worth it.

I’ve been to Israel a lot, so I’m fully aware of the apartheid situation in Israel. I’ve been offended by it going back twenty years. But I would always say to myself, “Okay, I’ve been in a lot of places with injustice.” I’ve seen Nigerians treat Liberians like animals, firsthand, in West Africa, and I was offended by it. But I didn’t organize my life around defending oppressed Liberians.

Occasionally, something would happen and my staff at Fox would bring me a story about Israel. I’d be like, “Nope, I don’t want to do it.” Now, that was probably cowardice on my part, but also the truth was I had mixed feelings about it. I’m not defending this. I’m just telling you the way I thought. I would sublimate it. “Is it really worth it? I don’t want to think about it, and I’ve got all these children, and I want America to be a decent place.” But the Iran war, that was too far.

There’s been speculation that hawks like Marc Thiessen, the Washington Post columnist, have played a part in convincing Trump to continue the Iran war. Do we, meaning the public, have a good understanding of how people in the media influence Trump?

I don’t know if people have a good understanding of it. I don’t know if I always have a good understanding of it. But I don’t believe that Trump is substantially influenced by Marc Thiessen. I doubt Marc Thiessen influences his wife, assuming he has one. I think that Marc Thiessen and others like that are just a sideshow designed to divert your attention away from the people who are influencing the president. And those would include his donors. Those would include John Paulson and Miriam Adelson and Rupert Murdoch, who’s had a huge effect on Trump. Rupert Murdoch would call Trump three or four times a day to encourage him to attack Iran. And I know that because I’ve talked to Trump about it many times.

You and Pete Hegseth, the secretary of war, were both on Fox. Do you have any thoughts about his fitness for the job?

I feel sad about the whole thing. I think it’s disgusting to brag about killing people. It’s totally unchristian and immoral. We should treat death with reverence, period. You can certainly make the case that some people should be killed, but I don’t think anyone should ever celebrate the death of another human being. And by the way, you’re gonna be punished for that.

What do you make of Trump’s lurching attempts to end the war in Iran with the memorandum of understanding?

It’s a humiliating defeat for the United States, but it’s still an improvement over what would happen if we kept going, so I’m grateful for it. Israel is the victim in this. Israel got so far over its skis. Imagine it from Israel’s perspective: you think you’re gonna be the regional hegemon, and then, three months later, Iran becomes a global power. It’s a freaking nightmare!

But there’s no meaningful diplomatic effort; Israel doesn’t even have the capacity for diplomacy. “We’re just gonna explode your pagers.” You can talk yourself into thinking you’re far more powerful than you are, and when you do that, you get hurt. I learned that at twenty-five in a bar fight. And I never punched anyone again, because last time I did, I got the snot knocked out of me, and I had to go on TV with a black eye. I was married. With kids. I was actually thirty-two, now that I’m thinking about it. And my wife was not impressed at all, and my kids were confused. Everything about it was bad. But I realized I’m better at talking my way out of problems than fighting my way out of problems.

I don’t think I’m making complicated points, and I don’t think I’m saying anything radical. Like in that interview with the New York Times. Midway through it she gets kind of emotional and treats me like I’m a dangerous figure. I don’t see myself that way at all. I see myself as thoroughly moderate, and more so as I get older, and I don’t think I have any weird sacred cows that I’m not admitting in public.

The Times reporter, Garcia-Navarro, asked repeatedly about your interview with Nick Fuentes, which seemed to surprise you.

I’m happy to answer questions about Nick Fuentes, but if you’re asking me your eleventh question on Nick Fuentes, I’m gonna have to call it out for what it is, which is a diversion tactic.

I feel like the thing that people are really mad about is the fact that they can’t get jobs that are well-paying enough to build an independent life. Young people are threatened by the promise of AI, which is taking away their futures. And she wants to talk about Nick Fuentes? It is so perfectly representative of the way a certain class of people in America thinks, which is small and narrow. We’re supposed to be running the world! Not with people like you, man.

You did express regret in that Times interview about interviewing Fuentes, at least on the basis that it created too much blowback for you. If you are going to continue to be a prominent anti-war voice and Israel critic, are you thinking about calibrating your approach in any way?

No. I’m not an anti-Semite; if I was an anti-Semite, I would just say so: “I’m against the Jews, here’s why.” I don’t have an employer. I don’t have investors. I don’t even have any creditors, so I can say whatever I think is true, and I plan to.

I find it so interesting that people are unwilling to accept my word. I always say, “Well, why wouldn’t I just say it? What am I going to get? Canceled? I’ve already been fired.” I had the highest-rated show in the history of Fox, and they fired me anyway. So it’s like, what are you going to take from me now?

Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan recently reported that JD Vance pitched having you interview Ghislaine Maxwell in prison as part of the Trump administration’s pushback to negative coverage around the Epstein files. Were you involved in this idea?

I was one of the very first, maybe the first person to attack the administration in public last summer for hiding the Epstein materials. Not only was I not involved in a cover-up, I was publicly attacking them. I’ll be happy to interview Ghislaine Maxwell or anybody else. That’s my job. But no, I was not involved in a plot to cover it up.

In an interview recently, Sebastian Gorka, the White House counterterrorism “czar,” name-checked you after being asked about right-wing terror threats.

Sebastian Gorka—he’s not even American. My family’s been here for like four hundred years. And I’m the terror threat because I would like democracy and free speech. I texted him immediately and said, “Let’s have a conversation.” He never responded. He used to invite me over for dinner to his house, and I got such a creepy vibe. I just knew, I’m gonna get over there and he’s going to have me put on a costume.

Sorry, a costume? What kind of a costume?

I don’t know. I’m just guessing. If there’s anybody that has a costume room, it’s Gorka.

Speaking of free speech crackdowns—one of the most famous recent examples when it comes to Israel/Palestine is Mahmoud Khalil, the Columbia student-protest leader detained by ICE.

Even then, I didn’t say anything. So determined was I to stay out of this that I made the—in retrospect, probably foolish and maybe even cowardly—decision to not say anything when they started revoking people’s visas for their political views.

Now, I’m for less immigration. In fact, I’m for ending all immigration today. I don’t know how you can justify immigration when half of all white-collar jobs are going away because of AI. What are people going to do for a living? There’s no economic justification for any immigration in the United States because we can’t even figure out what we’re going to do with all these unemployed people. So it’s crazy. Social-services spending, healthcare, education—who’s going to pay for that? So I’m opposed. And in the case of Sebastian Gorka—like, I would deport him immediately.

Legacy media is in constant flux. Do you see the old-school press being able to navigate this era? Or is it slowly just withering away?

Do I see NBC News making a comeback? No! I don’t know David Ellison, but he’s not a genius, I’ll tell you that. He’s buying CBS. Are you gonna buy RCA Records next? I wouldn’t take CBS News for free. I wouldn’t take CNN for free—maybe CNN International. But, like, Paramount Pictures? This is not the future. It’s not even the recent past. It’s the distant past.

I’m not exactly sure where young people are getting their information, but wherever they’re getting it is the right place, because they are so well-informed. For years, I thought that weed and porn and SSRIs and benzodiazepines have totally disabled young people. But I don’t think that anymore. I employ a lot of them, and they’re the sharpest, hardest-working people. They give me a lot of hope. And boy, they don’t believe anything. And they’re very well-informed. So much better-informed than I was when I was twenty-seven. I thought the CIA was a force for good! I literally thought that!

I think Trump is the last Fox News viewer. I’m so grateful every single day that I got fired. I probably wouldn’t have left, knowing me. I’d just be increasingly unhappy.

And here, you feel like you’ve found your—

I feel totally happy. I mean, I think my influence is overstated. I don’t seem to have influence at all. I couldn’t stop Trump from attacking Iran. And my wife, who is hilarious, literally laughed at me after the war started: “So I guess you weren’t very good at that, Mr. Powerful Influential Guy!” What matters is the ability to affect outcomes. And I have no demonstrated ability to do that. None.

Some have referred to the current divide on the right as being a split between Fox News Republicans and YouTube Republicans. Are you strategically positioning yourself as counterprogramming?

I’m not strategic in any way. I make almost all decisions on the basis of smell and instinct. I have no real idea who watches our show. I’m sure there are people who work here who have, or claim to have, a better sense of who the audience is. I really don’t. I make all decisions about what we air myself, usually without consulting anybody. I have a short attention span. That’s been a huge advantage for me over the years.

One thing I always loved about Rachel Maddow, and I often told her this, is that she just existed in her own universe. She’s off in the Berkshires alone, thinking. She was disconnected from the herd. I’ve always wanted to be that. I haven’t always succeeded. It’s shameful the number of times I’ve covered something because everyone else was talking about it. But I really try not to be that way. And increasingly, especially as I age, I am cut off.

I’ve never posted in my life. I don’t have my password on social media. I don’t read anything. I get almost all my information by text message or phone call. That’s it. It could be every bit as wrong. But I just don’t trust anybody at all, and I don’t want it in my head. I’ve never listened to a podcast. I have some form of intense dyslexia, and something about podcasts and movies and television puts me to sleep almost immediately. I still read books every day.

Are you interested in aligning yourself with other anti-war voices?

I do know what really matters is war and finance. Where does the money come from? Where does it go? And who gets killed? And on those questions, the parties are in lockstep solidarity with each other. That’s not a democracy. That’s a one-party state posing as a democracy, and it needs to be broken, and there’s going to be a third party, and I’m going to do everything I can to bring that about.

And that’s the lesson of the last two and a half months, to me. If you vote for Trump and you still wind up in a regime-change war—if Chuck Schumer is strongly behind Trump’s foreign policy, which he is—then we need options, or else let’s just give up and be ruled by the most unscrupulous people. And I’m just too young to accept that. We need a third party.

And when you say do everything you can—

I’m going to help build a third party. There should be a good-faith effort to figure out what benefits the country. I mean, if you make sixty thousand dollars a year, you’re degraded. Your life expectancy has gone down, and the promise of your children’s lives is likely gone. No one seems to care. It’s not even a factor. “What about Hamas?” I officially don’t care about Hamas. The US government should have, as its first priority, the welfare of its own people.

Would you be a candidate for this third party?

I don’t want to be a candidate. Before I did the Times interview, someone said to me, “They’re going to ask you if you’re running for president.” I was very tempted to say “I am running—on the pro-patriarchy ticket.” Just to make sure I gain no new fans.

What’s your goal in speaking to outlets like CJR or the Times—people who are presumably outside of your direct audience?

It’s the only power I have. I don’t have any tricky plan to win Times readers to my campaign for some office. I don’t have any institutional power. I don’t control a military. So all I have is the power to talk and be heard. And though it’s borne no fruit so far, I remain hopeful.

The headline of that Times interview was “What Does Tucker Carlson Really Believe?” The Atlantic used an almost identical headline for a 2019 profile.

So weird. Like I’m using some kind of verbal magic trick to hide something. From my perspective, I am the least mysterious person who’s ever lived. I don’t think I’ve ever said anything in public that’s complicated or hard to understand. I have a commitment to not doing that. I believe if you can’t explain something clearly, either you don’t understand it, or you’re trying to hide something.

What do I really believe? What do you think I’m hiding? I could talk for twenty-four hours! I’ll tell you everything I believe! I can’t stop talking!

READ ORIGINAL STORY HERE

WHO COUNTS?

The Committee to Protect Journalists’ role documenting members of the press killed in the Israel-Gaza war has made it a target.

Mourners carry the body of Abd Shaat, a Palestinian journalist killed in an Israeli strike. (AP Photo/Abdel Kareem Hana, File)

BY JEM BARTHOLOMEW

At 12:37pm EST on June 25, Jodie Ginsberg, the chief executive of the Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ), announced that the organization was reexamining the names in its database of journalists killed in the Israel-Gaza war. “CPJ condemns in no uncertain terms the misrepresentation of combatants as journalists or media workers—or the misuse of ‘Press’ insignia. Such actions endanger every single individual journalist legitimately trying to report,” she said in a statement. “We are conducting a full review of the names on our lists to confirm that no one who was actively engaged in combat is listed in our data.” Ginsberg also pointed out that “in-person verification by researchers from outside Gaza has been impossible” because, as Gerry Shih wrote for CJR’s recent Access Issue, since the war began, Israel has barred international correspondents and press advocates from reporting independently in the territory.

Four hours later, at 4:47pm, Jacob Weisberg—the chair of CPJ’s board of directors and a cofounder of Pushkin Industries—emailed the board with an update on a parallel but distinct plan to reconsider who counts as a member of the press. He wrote, according to emails I have reviewed, that he’d established a “special task force to reexamine the question of ‘Who is a Journalist?’” He told board members: “This inquiry is not limited to Gaza, and will address questions about our protection of journalists affiliated with the non-military wings of identified terrorist organizations as well as journalists engaged in official propaganda or disinformation.” He said that nine people had already agreed to work on the task force, and that they would share their recommendation with the board at the next scheduled meeting, in October. (In response to interview requests, Weisberg referred to public statements and said that he was “not going to comment on the board’s internal discussions or processes.”)

The pair of announcements, one public and the other intended to be private, quickly set off a widespread debate about whether one of the world’s most influential press advocacy groups was caving to political pressure. Since the Israel-Gaza war began, in October of 2023, CPJ—a nonprofit headquartered in New York that promotes global press freedom, provides safety support to reporters, and produces research about attacks on the press—has kept a well-sourced and widely cited count of journalists killed. CPJ says the database records people’s names only after its researchers, based around the world, have confirmed via “at least two independent sources of information, desk-based research, and in-person research where possible” that each person is a journalist who has been killed in relation to their work. (Supporting evidence can include information from “family, colleagues, media reports, civil society, and government or independent investigations,” according to CPJ’s methodology.) The tally, at present, documents two hundred and sixty-three journalists and media workers killed in Gaza, Iran, Lebanon, and Yemen, the vast majority of them by the Israeli military, which routinely targets journalists and accuses them, without evidence, of being terrorists. CPJ’s research puts Israel’s war on Gaza down as the deadliest conflict for journalists on record. This has made the CPJ database, and the methodology behind it, a target for attacks by those seeking to discredit critics of the Benjamin Netanyahu administration.

These attacks have grown louder in recent weeks, in the wake of an article by Nicholas Kristof, published on May 11 in the New York Times’ opinion section, that reported on allegations of sexual violence perpetrated by the Israeli military, titled “The Silence That Meets the Rape of Palestinians.” A right-wing news site called the Washington Free Beacon—which once ran a piece with the headline “January 6: An Anniversary Worth Celebrating”—has since published a string of articles seeking to discredit Kristof, his sources, his family members, and the organizations he cited, including CPJ. On May 23, the Free Beacon ran a story saying that CPJ had removed some names from its database of killed journalists. (The same Beacon article quoted a spokesman for Honest Reporting—an organization that Reporters Without Borders has said “constantly defames journalists and media outlets that take a critical view of Israel”—who made the absurd allegation that news organizations citing CPJ data were “amplifying Hamas propaganda.”) On May 27, the Free Beacon published another article, this one accusing CPJ of anti-Israel bias and attacking its board members for, among other things, describing Israel’s actions in Gaza as a genocide.

Behind the scenes at CPJ, meanwhile, a related, though very different, conversation was taking shape. Throughout the spring, Hamas and Palestinian Islamic Jihad published obituaries or statements claiming that a number of people in CPJ’s database of journalists killed in the Israel-Gaza war were, in fact, active combatants. After further research, CPJ removed several names. That meant that, since October 7, 2023, a total of twenty people had been removed from the list once new information emerged indicating that they did not meet CPJ’s criteria—including eight people who were found to be active combatants. On May 27, CPJ updated its site to provide details on why the recent changes had been made. At the beginning of June, the organization quietly started “a comprehensive review” of its database, according to Sara Qudah, CPJ’s Middle East and North Africa regional director, who requested it. The goal was to check that everyone in the database fit the organization’s existing definition by verifying each individual’s status with at least two new independent sources; the undertaking also aims to uncover potential problems with the existing verification process. The review, which is ongoing, has been “led by a small team within the Middle East and North Africa program,” Qudah explained in an article for the New Arab, and is “entirely independent.”

Around the same time, a separate process got underway, under the auspices of CPJ’s board, which comprises almost thirty senior journalists, media executives, and leaders from related professions. (The board is not involved in the day-to-day running of the organization.) At a board meeting in early June, members discussed the recent Free Beacon coverage, and one member, Jonathan Klein, the former chief executive of Getty Images, told me that he proposed revisiting how CPJ defines a journalist. That proposal was taken up by Weisberg. “We are working on a process for the board to engage in that will allow us to consider the current definition and to assess what changes we might make,” he told the board on June 9, according to emails I have reviewed, promising “more details in the coming weeks.”

But when Weisberg sent his “Who is a Journalist?” email, on June 25, it came as a surprise to Nika Soon-Shiong, the publisher of Drop Site News and a CPJ board member since June of 2021. Though she was aware of Weisberg’s interest in the question, there had been no vote or discussion of whether to act on the proposal to reevaluate CPJ’s definition. “This was an effort led by a handful of board members to narrow the definition of who is a journalist and exclude Palestinian and Lebanese colleagues,” Soon-Shiong told me in a statement. On June 28, she sent an email to Weisberg and the rest of the board—which she later posted on X—voicing concerns. “I request that the Board vote on whether to proceed with this effort, given the absence of a clear objective, defined scope of work, or assessment of the potential institutional risks,” she wrote. Reevaluating the criteria for who counts as a journalist in a way that might exclude Palestinian and Lebanese reporters at state-backed outlets would cause “permanent reputational damage” to CPJ and would represent bowing to “political pressure,” she wrote. (Soon-Shiong also told me that, following her email, she was informed that her term on the board had expired; the set terms last five years. Weisberg declined to comment.)

The same day, Mohammed El-Kurd, a Palestinian writer and poet who serves as the Palestine correspondent at The Nation, claimed on X that CPJ’s board of directors “will formally change its definition of who qualifies as a journalist, to broadly exclude slain Palestinian and Lebanese journalists who worked for government-funded media outlets.” The move, he wrote, “makes a mockery of the purported mission of the organization.” The post sparked an immediate backlash on social media, including accusations that CPJ was acquiescing to political pressure—not entirely unheard of among media and tech organizations that have, for instance, been seen bending the knee to the Trump administration as it attacks the press.

On Wednesday, July 1, as controversy and confusion mounted over the operational review and the board’s plans, CPJ’s board held an emergency meeting and voted to affirm its existing definition of a journalist. The vote was seventeen to one, according to the Free Beacon, with “Fox News’s representative casting the lone no vote,” thereby halting the chair’s proposal. (The Beacon seemed to be referring to Katherine Meeks, the general counsel of Fox News Media, who did not respond to my request for an interview.) “It is not true that CPJ planned to change our definition of who is a journalist to exclude slain Palestinian and Lebanese press killed in the Israel-Gaza war,” Weisberg said in a statement after the vote, calling reports to the contrary “unsubstantiated allegations” that “undermine” CPJ’s work and “endanger” Palestinian and Lebanese journalists.

Some media coverage confused two discrete processes—the ongoing CPJ review of its data, on the one hand, and an unsuccessful push to reevaluate the broader definition of a journalist, on the other. The board of the Arab and Middle Eastern Journalists Association (AMEJA) requested an urgent meeting with Ginsberg, held on June 30. They came away reassured. As they wrote afterward to members, Ginsberg told them, “There has been no board decision to change the definition. And if they change the definition to exclude Palestinian journalists, they can take my resignation with it.” One person in the meeting, Aymann Ismail—the AMEJA board president and a senior writer at Slate, who spoke to me in a personal capacity—said Ginsberg made a clear distinction “between the daily operations of CPJ, and the board.” According to Ismail, Ginsberg told AMEJA that CPJ’s database review was “something that they would have been doing regardless of what the board was discussing, because they care very deeply about their rigorous processes of verification.”

CPJ had, in fact, undergone a recent stress-testing of its methodology, in 2025. In the spring of that year, staff representing all parts and regions of CPJ met four times to discuss who counted as a journalist. The meetings, according to emails I reviewed, involved “kicking the tires” of the organization’s definition and figuring out “where we most often get tripped up.” Where, exactly, is the point at which someone becomes a propagandist, an activist, an influencer, a foreign agent? CPJ staff agreed that “accuracy” and publishing “fact-based” material was crucial to inclusion as a journalist; that the medium or platform in question did not matter; that for someone to be considered a journalist, their witnessing should not be a one-off; and that CPJ should look at the individual journalist, not the organization to which they were affiliated, when determining their status. The process led to a slight tweak in CPJ’s public definition: “CPJ defines journalists as people who regularly cover news or comment on public affairs through any medium to report or share fact-based information with an audience.” (Changes in italics.) In June of 2025, the board of directors voted to adopt that definition.

CPJ’s long-standing inclusion of reporters affiliated with state-backed media or militant or armed groups has made it a target of bad-faith organizations like Honest Reporting. But it’s worth emphasizing that CPJ researchers evaluate whether people killed were genuinely engaged in regular journalistic activity, and that anyone they judge to be actively engaged in combat or inciting imminent violence is automatically excluded from the data. This is in line with how many human rights organizations define journalists. The UN Human Rights Office, for instance, has said that journalists are people “documenting events, analyzing issues, gathering facts, and processing data, to inform society on matters of public interest.” Notice: not people who work for journalistic institutions, but people doing journalism. This rubric could include journalists at Al-Aqsa TV in Gaza (affiliated with Hamas, the militant group that runs the government); Xinhua News Agency in China (owned by the one-party state); or, for that matter, Stars and Stripes (owned by the US Department of Defense) or Voice of America (overseen by the US Agency for Global Media). “We recognize that across the world, individuals working for these outlets are essential in providing information to communities,” Ginsberg has said.

Some human rights professionals argue that making the test of who is a journalist about one’s function, not the politics or affiliations of their employer, is important because witnesses who work for one political group or another are more likely to be found in places where ordinary reporting is suppressed or access is denied. Amos Barshad has documented for CJR how international journalists have been trying to get into Gaza for years. Does that not make any bona fide journalistic work on the ground there a public service? A vital way of recording a war that would otherwise go unseen? And if someone is killed for doing that journalistic work—for performing the role of witness, even if they report for a state-owned media organization affiliated with a group whose politics we may find grotesque—why should they be excluded from a tally of journalists slain for doing their jobs?

Ismail, of AMEJA, told me that, following his meeting with Ginsberg, it became clear that the two separate reviews were being conflated in some reports and on social media. He added, though, that he understood why the misunderstanding had elicited such a fierce response. “This is emotional for so many people, for obvious reasons. This is a matter of life and death,” he said. “We’ve seen so many examples of the Israeli military justifying the killing of journalists who no one would question their status as journalists.” He noted the grim emergence of a new term used by the Israel Defense Forces: “They were calling these people ‘combat propagandists.’ It’s not a thing. And even if that were the case—where somebody was on someone’s bankroll—that does not make them a military target.”

Other Notable Stories …
By Jem Bartholomew

On Tuesday, NPR published—then quickly retracted—an article by Nina Totenberg, NPR’s Supreme Court correspondent, stating, incorrectly, that Samuel Alito, a Supreme Court Justice, had retired. Totenberg, who is eighty-two and has been a well-sourced reporter on that beat for decades, apologized to Alito and called it her “worst professional mistake of my more than fifty years in journalism.”

Totenberg explained that the error grew out of her having misheard the answer to a question: “I asked somebody what was going on inside, to which the answer was, ‘Retirement announcements.’ I didn’t hear the s on ‘announcements,’ and I assumed—something no reporter should ever do—that” Alito was retiring, she said, according to CNN. (The announcements referred to court staff retirements.) One NPR host told Brian Stelter of CNN that the retraction was “a worst-case scenario for us.”A federal judge on Tuesday ordered the Pentagon to temporarily halt its requirement for journalists to be accompanied by an official escort while inside the building, the New York Times reported. The ruling came in response to the second of two lawsuits the paper has filed in recent months seeking to overturn restrictions imposed on journalists by Pete Hegseth, the defense secretary. The latest lawsuit, filed in May, targeted the escort requirement, calling it “retaliatory.” Judge Paul L. Friedman, of the US District Court for the District of Columbia, said in a preliminary ruling that the escort policy violated the First Amendment. For more on the Pentagon’s effort to muzzle critical national security reporting, see Ivan L. Nagy’s recent timeline for CJR.

On Monday, a reporter and a photographer for CBS News Chicago were attacked during a shoot by three men, the news organization reported. One of the men reportedly shouted a racial slur at one of the journalists, who is Black, and ordered a German shepherd to attack (it did not obey); the assailants also cracked the windshield of a CBS News van with a traffic cone and smashed a camera. “They just were trying to do anything they could to scare them unnecessarily,” a witness said. Chicago police later arrested the three men, who face felony charges including committing a hate crime, criminal damage to property, and aggravated battery of a police officer. Lisa Nandy, the UK’s secretary of state for culture, media, and sport, said last week that she was likely to ask the country’s competition watchdog to scrutinize Paramount Skydance’s takeover of Warner Bros. Discovery, which will significantly grow the Ellison family’s media empire and give it control over CNN. Nandy has given Paramount until July 6 to respond. “We are confident that our proposed transaction does not pose any media plurality issues in the UK and remain confident in our stated transaction timeline,” a spokesperson for Paramount said. In other news, Sky has announced a deal worth 1.6 billion pounds (2.1 billion dollars) to buy the broadcasting and streaming arm of ITV.For Vanity Fair, Margaux MacColl interviewed Goli Sheikholeslami, the chief executive of Politico, about, among other things, the outlet’s drive into AI. “While some media leaders have erred on the side of caution, enforcing policies that prevent or severely limit the use of AI tools, Sheikholeslami has leaned into experimentation, launching multiple public-facing AI tools and chalking up now-defunct products” as useful means of data collection, MacColl writes. One AI tool—which was still in beta and was later shut down—was asked by employees during testing to produce feature reports on fictitious lobbying groups, which it did, hallucinating false information and attributing it to Politico articles. “If you don’t participate, you don’t learn,”

 Sheikholeslami told MacColl.Three men were found not guilty on Friday of murdering Lyra McKee, a journalist from Belfast who died after being struck by a bullet in Derry, Northern Ireland, in April of 2019, at the age of twenty-nine. McKee was reporting on rioting at the time; the New IRA claimed responsibility for her killing. The three men had been on trial at Belfast Crown Court since May of 2024. Judge Patricia Smyth said “M​​cKee’s murder was an act of senseless violence” but added: “The gunman has never been brought to the court, and the evidence against those accused of assisting or encouraging has fallen short of that required for conviction.” Reporters Without Borders urged authorities to continue pursuing all legal avenues to secure justice for McKee. And Charles H. Townsend—who was chief executive of Condé Nast from 2004 to 2015, during the media industry’s transition from print to digital—died on June 11 in Florida, aged eighty-two. His daughter told the Times that his death, in a hospital, was from sepsis. Townsend “might have been an ideal steward for Condé” in an earlier era, Michael Grynbaum, a Times journalist, wrote in Empire of the Elite: Inside Condé Nast, the Media Dynasty That Reshaped America. But he “had the misfortune to reach the summit just as the mountain began to melt.”

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‘America Knows Less About Itself At The Very Moment It Needs To Know The Truth’

John Duprey / 1963 Birmingham photograph from NY Daily News Archive via Getty Images

BY SUSIE BANIKARIM

In 1967, President Lyndon B. Johnson established the Kerner Commission in response to widespread demonstrations over the treatment of Black Americans. The following year, the panel released a report, outlining systemic white racism across society—and sharply criticizing the press’s failure to cover the subject of race. “Along with the country as a whole, the press has too long basked in a white world looking out of it, if at all, with white men’s eyes and white perspective,” the report concluded, calling on newsrooms to hire and promote more Black journalists. A decade later, the American Society of News Editors (ASNE) started a recurring survey to track the news industry’s progress toward inclusion, setting an ambitious goal: that the demographics of newsrooms would mirror those of the broader US population by the year 2000. The survey, which for years served as one of the industry’s primary benchmarks for tracking newsroom representation, was last conducted in 2019. ASNE, later known as the News Leaders Association (NLA), disbanded in 2024.

It’s hard to imagine a more apt metaphor for the state of Black representation in media today. At a time when the Trump administration is aggressively dismantling diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives and targeting communities of color, many newsrooms have all but abandoned promises they made during the Black Lives Matter protests of 2020 to increase racial diversity in coverage and staffing. As CJR reported last month, 76 percent of journalists identified as white in a 2022 Pew Research Center survey, compared with roughly 58 percent of Americans who identified as white in the most recent census. “You saw the industry making all these promises, but we are in a moment where we’ve got this backlash that is really exposing which of those promises were values and which ones were window dressing or branding,” Errin Haines, the president of the National Association of Black Journalists and editor at large of The 19th, told me.

In the past year, NBC News has shut down all of its verticals dedicated to reporting on Black, Latino, queer, and other underrepresented groups. CBS eliminated its Race and Culture team. Bloomberg and Politico wound down their newsletters about race, according to Nieman Lab. In February, the Washington Post laid off 45 percent of unionized Black staffers amid widespread reductions, but journalists at the Post told my colleague Riddhi Setty that leadership had given up on diverse coverage long before that.

These are a few suggestive examples—but what we know about the bigger picture of representation in journalism is largely anecdotal. There is no comprehensive or current data on reductions of race coverage or diverse staffing across the industry. In 2025, the American Press Institute (API) announced that it had “acquired the survey” from the NLA so that it could relaunch and expand that research. Robyn Tomlin, the executive director of API, told me in an email that they “are working to identify potential funding to support it in the future.” For now, only historical survey data is available on the institute’s website.

“We’re absolutely in a moment now where Black journalists are being disproportionately affected by choices around whose beats get cut and what kind of teams get dismantled,” Haines said. “And frankly, whose expertise is valued versus whose expertise is considered expendable and whose communities and what kind of audiences are just optional.”

It is particularly troubling to see newsrooms cowed by the administration’s cynical efforts to reframe DEI as discrimination, because these are the institutions on which we rely to tell that story. “The press, tasked with protecting American democracy, is best secured by reflecting the American people,” Jelani Cobb, the dean of Columbia Journalism School and this magazine’s publisher, wrote for CJR in 2018. Six years later, many news organizations are still failing to tell the full American story. “You can’t say democracy is under threat and then just eliminate the journalists that are best positioned to explain how that threat is landing in Black communities,” Haines said. “If we get pushed out, America literally knows less about itself at the very moment that it needs to know the truth about itself.”

In The Souls of Black Folk, W.E.B. Du Bois introduced the concept of “second sight” and the ability it gives Black Americans to see the country as it truly is rather than the ideal it is often claimed to be. In A Second Sight: How the Wonder and Vision of Black Mediamakers Push America Toward Freedom, Sarah J. Jackson, an associate professor at the Annenberg School for Communication, explores how that double consciousness is both a burden and a privilege for Black storytellers, giving them “a profound insight: the ability to see through the veil, to understand the contradictions of American life with a clarity often unavailable to those at the center of power. Second sight is a vision, a tool, a gift.”

The book, out this week, is an alternative history of media in America, an insightful and invaluable examination of how Black journalists, photographers, filmmakers, radio hosts, and podcasters have shaped the nation, even while their contributions have too often been excluded from the official record. Jackson combines deep historical analysis with interviews of contemporary Black media-makers conducted over four years to trace the stories of those “who have used the tools of their time—pen, press, lens, mic—to critique the nation and imagine it otherwise.”

By structuring the book around the founding principles of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, Jackson shows how figures such as Du Bois, Frederick Douglass, Ida B. Wells, and Mary McLeod Bethune fundamentally reframed our understanding of these concepts. She draws a direct line between their work and journalists of today who continue to interrogate the idea of the American project—including Cobb and Haines, as well as Ta-Nehisi Coates, Nikole Hannah-Jones, Gene Demby, Gabriella Angotti-Jones, and Chenjerai Kumanyika. These journalists, Jackson writes, continue to give us “a more nuanced, evocative, and honest story about our nation. Their belief that the public can hold—and act on—this story is itself an extraordinary act of faith.”

In the book’s coda, Jackson reminds us that, as the country prepares to mark the 250th anniversary of the adoption of the Declaration of Independence, “one measure of the integrity” of the flood of expected media coverage will be how it treats the stories of Americans on the margins. “Are the stories and contributions to democracy of countless unnamed Americans—whose lives and futures are tied to these histories—considered worthy of remembrance and celebration?” Jackson asks. “Whose freedom is celebrated? Whose life and liberty? Whose happiness protected? What futures imagined?”

One morning in the fall of 2022, Juliana Pache was solving the New York Times’ “Mini” crossword, as she did every day, when she came across something that stumped her. “I don’t remember the clues from that day, but there was something about one of the clues in particular from that Mini that I was like, ‘This feels like a white person would know this and I probably wouldn’t,’” Pache recalled.

The experience prompted Pache, a first-generation Afro-Caribbean American, to look for puzzles centered on Black history and culture. When she couldn’t find what she was looking for, she decided to make it herself. “That day, I bought a bunch of domain names, because I wasn’t sure what to name it yet. And I had never made a crossword puzzle before. I was like, ‘How hard could it be?’” She laughed. “It turns out it’s way harder than it looks.”

Pache taught herself how to construct puzzles by watching YouTube videos and found support on a Discord channel. Three months later, she debuted Black Crossword with her first mini. She has published a new puzzle every day since. The site’s tagline: “If you know, you know.” Clues this week included “‘There’s Always This ___: On Basketball and Ascension’ (2024 book by Hanif Abdurraqib),” “Radical Puerto Rican civil rights organization, The Young ___,” and “Dancer and choreographer ___ Ninja.” (The answers: Year, Lords, Willi.)

For Pache, it’s important that Black Crossword not present Black culture as a monolith. “A really big part of my goal is to connect people across the diaspora culturally,” she told me. “Language is such a huge part of how black folks across the diaspora communicate with each other. We have these kinds of shared languages.”

She has also published two puzzle books: Black Crossword: 100 Mini Puzzles Celebrating the African Diaspora in 2024 and Black Crossword: 100 Midi Puzzles Connecting the African Diaspora last year. She is currently brainstorming for her third book, which will include a wider variety of puzzles, including word searches and logic games. “There are so many ways to challenge hatred and systemic erasure,” she told me. With Black Crossword, she has found a way to do that by centering Black culture. “My primary feeling,” she said, “was this would be a joy to have.”

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The Secret Dinners Of Cold War Journalism

How invitation-only reporting took root in Washington’s press corps.

BY KATHRYN J. MCGARR

Last October, Pete Hegseth, known as the secretary of war, attempted to ban all reporters credentialed to the Pentagon who would not sign a pledge to write exactly what the Trump administration wanted. Around forty reporters walked out in protest rather than sign; their access to the building is now the subject of a prolonged legal dispute. Across the administration, we’ve seen officials blatantly play favorites in giving access to sources and information. While the flagrancy is new, controlled access has a history. The idea of certain reporters having privileged access has persisted since World War II, when an informal system of invitation-only information sessions became commonplace in United States military and diplomatic journalism. These meetings were chummy events over dinner, where information shared by officials was either off the record or not for attribution. Reporters at these dinners—all white, all men, all from mainstream news outlets—then got to set the boundaries of what they would (and would not) report to the public in their newspapers.

Invitation-only reporting based around private dinners became one of the most important journalistic conventions of mid-twentieth-century Washington, one that forged an uneasy alliance between reporters and the subjects they covered. As one reporter and attendee recalled decades later, of the dinners, “This was then really a new technique, but naturally we bent to it because we couldn’t escape it.”

The dinners began in a systematic way in November of 1942, in the Franklin Roosevelt administration. There were rumors that top men in the Army and Navy were not getting along, bringing bad publicity to the commanders. A well-connected civilian friend of Admiral Ernest J. King, chief of naval operations, invited several reporters to his home in Alexandria, Virginia, for dinner and conversation. Reporters warmed to King after seeing him in this more relaxed social setting. A columnist for the Scripps-Howard newspaper chain wrote in his diary that week, “Contrary to previous impression and what I have read, King was not taciturn or difficult but very friendly and appeared to thoroughly enjoy evening.” About a week later, the New York Herald Tribune had a front-page story, written by another of the dinner attendees, that claimed the Army and Navy were getting along just fine. Nothing to see here.

Officials began having even more invitation-only background sessions in both the White House and the newly built Pentagon. Reporters began to tolerate a private conversation about the war happening within Washington and a different, public-facing conversation being written in the newspapers. When reporters were included in top-secret briefings and exclusive social gatherings, they gained status in their papers. Editors and publishers who ran newspapers all over the US liked getting confidential memos labeled “top secret” from their Washington-based reporters, which helped them feel like insiders.

Washington was already such a clubby town—white men of the press enjoyed the National Press Club, the Gridiron Club, and the White House Correspondents’ Association (which allowed women, but not at the annual dinner), among many others—that these semiofficial dinner groups would have seemed like a natural extension. However, from the beginning, some reporters complained to one another and to editors about stories based on information from the dinners being “plants,” with officials using them to get favorable publicity.

The dinners became part of a larger pattern of increased secrecy around sensitive wartime information. At the time, some of the biggest names in the press, including the syndicated columnist Walter Lippmann and the New York Times’ Washington bureau chief, Arthur Krock, fretted over the ethics of what they called “pipeline journalism”—certain sources having direct pipelines to certain journalists. Krock, for one, was livid after being excluded from a private briefing. “One hardly can attend them, receive inside information or background, not given to others, and write critically or detachedly of the man who gives the background and who is the host,” he wrote to Lippmann. “The whole business is repugnant to me, as I am sure it is to you. I think it is degrading to permit oneself to be so transparently used,” Krock continued, in his typical caustic tone. Still they could not risk being the only reporters to miss out on potentially newsworthy information.

Quickly Lippmann—and later Krock—got himself invited to the private dinners with King, which the journalists eventually took over hosting. Once the war had ended, these men threw a celebratory dinner for King at the Statler Hotel. The men came from newspapers, magazines, and radio, including the New York Sun, the Washington Post, Newsweek, the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, ABC, and CBS. Everyone enjoyed a fancy meal—lamb chops featuring pineapple slices and béarnaise sauce—on their publisher’s dime. They called themselves the “Surviving Veterans of the Battle of Virginia.”

After World War II, these “dope” sessions, as some reporters called them, became routine for all sensitive reporting, especially military and diplomatic, with reporters hosting the guests of honor (sources) at hotels and splitting the bill between their employers. The background rule—under which the information that officials shared was either off the record (couldn’t be used at all) or not for attribution (couldn’t be traced back to the source)—became known as the Lindley Rule, named after one of the regular organizers, Ernest Lindley, a writer for Newsweek. Newsmen policed each other. The chief correspondent for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch reassured his editor back home that confidential information was safe: “In our own little group which has off-the-record sessions with top officials we drop from the list any person who approaches the breaking of a confidence.”

These dinners (and sometimes lunches) continued on through the most high-stakes moments of the Cold War era. On April 6, 1953, in the middle of US involvement in the Korean War, John Foster Dulles, Eisenhower’s secretary of state, met with about twenty diplomatic reporters in a private dining room at the Carlton Hotel in Washington, DC.

The newsmen, all from major mainstream outlets, chatted informally during preliminary drinks and ate a dinner of steak and strawberry ice cream at one long table. They then took turns asking Dulles questions on background. The first: What did Dulles think of the new Russian “peace offensive”? Soviet premier Joseph Stalin had died one month earlier, and his successor, Nikita Khrushchev, had launched an effort to ease tensions with the US. Dulles answered that it was probably a “trick or a tactic.” But by the end of the long evening, he had changed his position, saying he felt there was “new Russian friendliness” for which the two-month-old Eisenhower administration should get “90 percent” credit.

In the middle of the meandering, hours-long conversation, while talking about NATO, Dulles mentioned almost off-handedly that if the Soviet Union really wanted to take over Europe, there was probably nothing that could stop it. This was potentially explosive, and as one of the newspaper reporters wrote afterward in his personal notes, it was “agreed informally afterwards among the newspaper men present” that they shouldn’t “rush into print with much of this stuff.” A New York Times reporter wrote to his editor that, “out of a sense of responsibility for national security,” they decided not to publish the bit about an unstoppable Soviet Union “when so much peace talk was in the air.”

By handpicking the “responsible reporters,” white male journalists cut off access to anyone believed to be untrustworthy, in particular women reporters, Black reporters of any sex, and those outside the political mainstream (e.g., communists and socialists).

Many reporters worked outside the private sessions, by choice or by circumstance, which allowed them to be more critical of the US and the Cold War. Some, like Sarah McClendon, who ran her own news service in the Southwest, and Ethel Payne, who worked for the Chicago Defender, simply were not invited on the basis of sex, race, or both. The leftist I.F. Stone opted out entirely, writing for his own I.F. Stone’s Weekly and relying on public documents, such as transcripts of congressional hearings, to support his trenchant critiques.

Detachment is not necessarily a virtue in journalism, but it is in political reporting, where the primary goal is to hold the government to account. Journalists who prioritize source relationships above all else have incentive not to stray too far from dominant narratives.

At times, the controversy over the dinners did spill out into public view. In one episode in 1955, reporters mistakenly reported that the Eisenhower administration believed war with China was imminent. These reports came from dinner with the hawkish Admiral Robert Carney, the chief of naval operations, but because of the Lindley Rule, reporters could not attribute the information directly to him. Instead, the vagueness made it seem as if everyone in the administration shared Carney’s beliefs. The White House had to deny it. After the incident, Eisenhower gave Carney what a reporter in the New Republic called a “public spanking” for having said anything so controversial. Reporters, editors, and publishers sent a flurry of memos to one another trying to figure out where the background system could have gone wrong.

A reporter from the New York Daily News, who had not been invited, enraged Eisenhower at a press briefing by asking: “Mr. President, are we going to have to invite your aides out to lunch or dinner in order to get the news?”

The Carney incident had been so public that reporters then had to be publicly self-critical. But they also knew that the status quo would be hard to change. Robert Riggs, the Washington bureau chief for the Louisville Courier-Journal, concluded in an April 1955 New Republic article: “Despite the fate that overtook Admiral Carney, nothing so mutually advantageous as the Washington ‘private briefing’ will be allowed to die.” He was right, and invitation-only briefings continue to this day.

During the Cold War, the overall effect was pro-administration reporting on the most important issues of the day, including that the war in what was then referred to as Indochina, for example, was going well. That the US was the leader of the “Free World,” and the communists were enslaved. That the US must spread democracy.

Reporters were cautious about not upsetting norms that the Americans were the “good guys” and that capitalism was the only acceptable system. To this day, we speak of a Cold War consensus when, as I show in City of Newsmen: Public Lies and Professional Secrets in Cold War Washington, there was never more than an appearance of consensus. “The inclination to err on the side of the administration is ever present,” one reporter wrote in a 1953 letter to a historian. He admitted that he could never write exactly what he thought, or he wouldn’t have an audience: “The events as I, and I think most of my colleagues see them, sometimes run counter to the current of American folklore.”

ver the years, journalists at private dinners decided among themselves the most responsible way to report everything from the 1954 CIA-backed coup in Guatemala to the early US involvement in Vietnam. One of the most critical stories about the US to come out of the Vietnam War was by Seymour Hersh, a freelancer at the time he investigated the My Lai massacre; initially, the only outlet to publish his work was an anti-war newswire.

The holes in American folklore grew more obvious in the Vietnam era. But pressure to support the dominant, government-led narrative never truly abated. Too many journalists accepted the administration’s claims in the lead-up to the 2003 Iraq War. As Hersh told Jared Malsin in a 2015 interview in this journal, the problem when “it’s all about access” is that “in effect—not everybody, but too many reporters—they could trade, I could almost argue, their integrity for the access. Their curiosity, let’s put it in an easier way.”

Journalists working together do have some control over what kind of information economy they want to exist in. In October of 2025, when those dozens of journalists walked out of the Pentagon, they chose integrity over access in an important and public way. They left together—as a group—and their news outlets supported them. (In March of 2026, a federal judge ruled that the Defense Department had violated the First and Fifth Amendments.) Reporters built the system from which there seemed to be no escape. Maybe they can unbuild it.

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In 2025, Press Freedom Came Under Direct Attack

BY AIDA ALAMI

We must not respond to this existential crisis with silence and apathy.

In 2025, CJR extensively covered alarming assaults on free speech and press freedom in the United States and across the world. I am referring to the killing fields of Gaza, but not only that. I am also thinking of the banning of the Associated Press from the White House’s press briefing room in February, and the absurd new rules imposed on the Pentagon press corps in October, as well as physical attacks by Immigration and Customs Enforcement on journalists, and the deportations of at least two media figures, Mario Guevara and Sami Hamdi. Billionaires are fighting for control of media companies, and many media workers of color are being pushed out of their jobs. In short, this year has felt like an endless horror film.

I started 2025 by reading Omar El Akkad’s One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This—a book that hit me strongly because it spoke more eloquently than I could have ever imagined about the fraught relationship between Western institutions and someone like me: a Moroccan, Muslim journalist closely following the devastation of Gaza. According to the Committee to Protect Journalists, nearly two hundred and fifty journalists and media workers have been killed in Gaza since October 7, 2023. (Other sources put the count higher.) These journalists also faced acute starvation; in a CJR story about the famine from July, Meghnad Bose quotes a journalist saying, “I used to chase the truth. Now I chase calories.” In so many instances, reporters in Gaza were targeted precisely because they wore their press vests.

The second chapter of El Akkad’s book is called “Witness.” It discusses “utterly meaningless” words on the killing of journalists by Antony Blinken, the former secretary of state. El Akkad writes, “The journalists who bring the reality of the world to light are daily slaughtered. Meanwhile an embarrassing number of their Western colleagues, who for the most part fear no such outcome but accept it as the sad lot of those distant others, travel within the protective cocoon of people like the very concerned secretary and measure his vacuous declarations of solidarity with their craft as just another part of the horse race, just another part of the game.”

In March, months before he won the National Book Award, I interviewed El Akkad for CJR. He told me that accolades no longer meant much to him, because “I’ve seen them not be applied when the moment called for it most vehemently.” In other words, being compensated and rewarded for urgent, rights-defending work by the very institutions that have failed to express the same urgency or values rang hollow to him. This sentiment was something I would spend the rest of the year thinking about.

In August, CJR asked an essential question: What can the media do collectively to stop Gaza from being the deadliest place for journalists in the world? We collected almost two dozen responses from journalists, academics, and advocates to think through solutions. My colleague Azmat Khan wrote about the “muted responses” of journalism organizations to the killings of journalists by Israel: “A growing number have come to view this, ultimately, as a failure to contend with man-made human catastrophe in Gaza, including for reporters—and it has marked a breaking point in their relationships with legacy news institutions.” Atossa Araxia Abrahamian also put it well when she wrote, earlier this month, “Over the past two years, Gaza has shown governments around the world just how much they can get away with when it comes to silencing the press.”

To me, the way the media industry has responded to the horrors happening in Gaza has not come as a surprise. My own past experiences with extractive journalistic relationships, where my local knowledge was indispensable to news companies while my labor was erased by several peers, made the dehumanization I’ve witnessed these past two years feel inevitable rather than anomalous.

A crisis abroad can only weaken journalism at home. What we tolerate elsewhere eventually hurts us—and the pressure from outside the industry is real. The second Trump presidency has been marked by daily assaults on the press. I mean not only viral sound bites, but also real restrictions. In April, I profiled Karoline Leavitt, the White House press secretary, and spoke to reporters who called the atmosphere in the briefing room “surreal.” CJR’s Ivan L. Nagy wrote a suite of stories about new policies implemented by the Pentagon that exchanged accreditation for agreements from reporters to have their material vetted. As a result, the Pentagon press is now staffed with MAGA sycophants.

The Trump presidency will also be defined by the deportations of Guevara and Hamdi and by ICE’s violence against US journalists. On CJR’s podcast, The Kicker, Josh Hersh talked with journalists from Chicago’s Block Club, which joined several of that city’s news outlets in a lawsuit against the Trump administration and other top officials, filed in US District Court, alleging that federal agents had used “extreme brutality” against the press and others at protests. “We have seen clashes and we have seen federal agents, initially just ICE—then Border Patrol, led by Gregory Bovino—using chemical weapons on protesters and journalists,” Francia García Hernández, a reporter for Block Club, said. Stephanie Lulay, Block Club’s co–executive editor and cofounder, told Hersh, “Four of our journalists have been shot with pepper spray bullets and tear-gassed while covering protests.” Just last week, my colleague Jem Bartholomew covered a new report from the Freedom of the Press Foundation that documented at least thirty-two arrests and a hundred and seventy assaults on journalists so far in 2025.

Through all of this, journalism survived—as reporters continued to do their work in spite of attacks on their dignity and safety. In so many instances it continues to thrive. I have never been more in awe of the people who are delivering timely and essential reporting around the world—such as the more than twenty journalists who were arrested in October for trying to reach Gaza. But at the same time, I fear that press freedom is slowly and quietly eroding while institutional silence and apathy do nothing to protect it. Freedom is never lost at once.

Other Notable Stories…

By Jem Bartholomew

Three hours before broadcast, CBS News abruptly pulled a Sunday-night report on CECOT, the Salvadoran megaprison where the Trump administration deported more than two hundred and fifty Venezuelan migrants earlier this year, sparking a backlash from one of its high-profile correspondents. According to Semafor, Bari Weiss, the editor in chief recently installed by David Ellison—I wrote about Weiss for CJR in October—had “serious concerns about the piece,” with the network holding the segment “pending comment or an interview with White House officials next year.” In an email to colleagues last night seen by the Wall Street Journal, reporter Sharyn Alfonsi said that Weiss “spiked our story,” which she said “was screened five times and cleared by both CBS attorneys and Standards and Practices.” Alfonsi said the decision was political, not editorial. (For more on the ordeals of 60 Minutes, read this reported feature from the fall by Adam Piore.)

The Justice Department released thousands of files relating to investigations into convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein on Friday afternoon. (The timing was notable, as Jim Derogatis and Seth Stern write for CJR, as it follows the R. Kelly secrecy playbook.) The DOJ said it will keep releasing documents in the coming weeks, with hundreds of thousands of files reportedly still being reviewed. That defies the instructions of the Epstein Files Transparency Act, passed on November 19, for all files to be released within thirty days. In the meantime, news organizations set about sifting through Friday’s cache, but the files were heavily redacted and contained few revelations. (The release appeared to shield Donald Trump while focusing the spotlight on Bill Clinton; a Clinton spokesperson said he was being used as a “scapegoat.”) Trump’s reluctance to unearth the Epstein files has led to a fracturing of his MAGA base, with, as Emily Bell wrote for CJR earlier this year, the president “now confronting the outcome of a media ecosystem he invented, one based on panicky, consensus-squashing conspiracy theories.”

On Wednesday, Brendan Carr, the chairman of the Federal Communications Commission, appeared before an oversight hearing by the Senate Committee on Commerce, Science, and Transportation. The testimony made headlines for Carr’s comment that the FCC “is not an independent agency, formally speaking”—a statement that alarmed many observers as another instance of power flowing toward the executive branch under Donald Trump. (In the minutes after Carr’s comments, Axios’s Sara Fischer spotted that the FCC website was updated to scrub “independent” from the agency’s description.) Carr has already faced criticism for wielding the FCC like a political cudgel, pressuring ABC over late-night host Jimmy Kimmel and exacting promises from Skydance to remake CBS News in its takeover of Paramount. Texas Republican Ted Cruz, the Senate committee chairman, told Carr on Wednesday: “Democrat or Republican, we cannot have the government arbitrating truth or opinion.” (For more Carr’s allegiance to Trump at the FCC, read our piece by Kyle Paoletta.)

Over the past year, Susie Wiles, the White House chief of staff, has spoken eleven times to Chris Whipple, a Vanity Fair writer, addressing a range of topics with unexpected candor. But when the piece finally went live on December 16—alongside close-up portraits of administration officials—Wiles attacked the write-up. (Among her comments: Trump has “an alcoholic’s personality,” JD Vance is “a conspiracy theorist,” Elon Musk is an “odd duck” and “avowed ketamine” user, and Trump will “keep on blowing boats up until [Venezuelan leader Nicolás] Maduro cries uncle.”) While not denying the veracity of the quotations, Wiles said on X: “Significant context was disregarded” and much material was “left out of the story.” Christopher Anderson, the photographer for the story, said about his blemishes-and-all photo shoot: “It was my attempt to circumnavigate the stage-managed image of politics and cut through the image that the public relations team wants to be presented.”

Paramount Skydance suffered another rebuff last week in its takeover attempt of Warner Bros. Discovery—this time for more than 108 billion dollars—with the board rejecting the offer, in favor of progressing with Netflix’s takeover, in a reported unanimous vote. According to Variety, that was despite Ellison, Paramount’s chairman and chief executive, offering Warner Bros.’ David Zaslav a pay package worth hundreds of millions of dollars. (Ellison reportedly texted Zaslav: “It would be the honor of a lifetime to be your partner and to be the owner of these iconic assets.” Zaslav did not reply.) Meanwhile, the Financial Times reports that Soo Kim, the founder of New York hedge fund Standard General, has been approached by at least one major Warner Bros. Discovery shareholder about acquiring CNN.

On Thursday, the UK prime minister’s office announced a shake-up of press briefings. Instead of twice-daily, on-the-record briefings from the prime minister’s spokesperson to political journalists (“the lobby”), the plans call for one briefing a day. This will also sometimes be replaced by a press conference, where content creators and trade journalists may be invited, at which questions must be submitted to officials ahead of time. The government defended the plans as an attempt to broaden scrutiny. But the UK Society of Editors condemned the move, saying it could limit accountability. The Foreign Press Association (FPA) told CJR it’s part of a wider distaste for scrutiny since the Labour government was elected in 2024. “Labour has effectively canceled the foreign lobby,” Deborah Bonetti, the FPA director, said, citing accreditation struggles at recent summits and conferences leading to “a broken relationship.” “Their questionable approach to press scrutiny has now spilled into the UK lobby,” Bonetti said.

And the BBC said it will defend itself against a ten-billion-dollar lawsuit filed by Trump over the editing of a speech he made on January 6, 2021, in a 2024 documentary. As I wrote for CJR last month, “The BBC’s error is regrettable not so much for its content—the program’s larger point that Trump was cheering on an antidemocratic riot still holds true—as for how it was ultimately weaponized to call the broadcaster’s legitimacy into question.” As right-wing foes circled, the director general and head of BBC News were forced to resign. Last Monday, Trump sued in Florida—claiming defamation and violating a trade practices law—ratcheting up his pressure on the press following his lawsuits against the New York Times and Wall Street Journal. But the case itself, legal scholars have said, holds little merit. “Trump must show knowledge of falsity or reckless disregard for the truth,” a very high bar, said RonNell Andersen Jones, a University of Utah law professor, in comments to CNN.

RDEAD ORIGINAL STORY HERE

A Law From The Era Of Red Scares Is Supercharging Trump Administration’s Power Over Immigrants And Noncitizens

The Trump administration detained former Columbia University student and pro-Palestinian protest leader Mahmoud Khalil, center, for more than two months and is seeking to revoke his lawful permanent resident status. Kena Betancur/AFP via Getty Images

BY DANIEL TICHENOR

PROFESSOR OF POLITICAL SCIENCE,

UNIVERSITY OF OREGON

Nativism, the idea that government must guard native-born Americans from various threats posed by immigrants, has a long history in the United States.

Today, the Trump administration is citing the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1952, a restrictive measure written by nativist members of Congress decades ago when fears of communism were rampant, to sharply restrict the rights of noncitizens.

Under this law, also known as the McCarran-Walter Act, federal agencies have arrested and detained noncitizens associated with pro-Palestinian protests, reintroduced immigrant registration requirements, and imposed a new travel ban that affects 19 nations.

Since the 1950s, Congress has removed some of this sprawling federal law’s most discriminatory features, such as racist national origins quotas. But other key provisions remain on the books. Now they are the primary legal basis for some of President Donald Trump’s most controversial immigration crackdowns.
Foreign policy trumps free speech

In March 2025, the White House invoked the McCarran-Walter Act to justify arresting and deporting Mahmoud Khalil, a legal permanent resident who had participated in pro-Palestinian protests at Columbia University. Officials pointed to Section 237(a)(4)(C) of the law, which states that any “alien whose presence or activities in the United States the Secretary of State has reasonable ground to believe would have potentially serious adverse foreign policy consequences for the United States is deportable.”

This has been tried only once before. In 1995, the Clinton administration unsuccessfully sought to use the provision to deport a former Mexican official, Mario Ruiz Massieu, to face charges in his homeland for extortion and obstructing a murder investigation. Ruiz Massieu was later indicted in the U.S. on money laundering charges and died by suicide shortly before his arraignment.

The Trump administration cited the same provision to justify detaining Tufts University doctoral student Rumeysa Ozturk in March. Ozturk came under government scrutiny because she co-authored an op-ed in the Tufts student newspaper criticizing the university’s position on the Israel-Gaza war.

Surveillance footage of a terrified Ozturk being arrested by masked Immigration Customs and Enforcement agents on a street in Somerville, Massachusetts, drew criticism from government officials and civil liberties advocates. In response, Secretary of State Marco Rubio alleged that Ozturk had harmed U.S. interests by supporting “movements that are involved in doing things like vandalizing universities, harassing students, taking over buildings, creating a ruckus.”

Khalil and Ozturk both were released after weeks in detention, pending final resolution of their cases. Their lawyers argue that their clients’ treatment violates free speech protections and that the defendants were punished for expressing their political beliefs.
Monitoring noncitizens

The McCarran-Walter Act also authorizes intrusive registration and tracking requirements for noncitizens who remain in the U.S. for 30 days or longer.

On Jan. 20, 2025, Trump issued an executive order directing the Department of Homeland Security to enforce an “alien registration requirement.” The agency issued a final rule in April requiring all noncitizens over the age of 14 to register and be fingerprinted. Parents or guardians must register noncitizen children under age 14. The rule also requires adult noncitizens to carry “evidence of registration” at all times.

Such policies aren’t new. Noncitizen registration was codified in the Alien Registration Act of 1940, on the eve of U.S. entry into World War II. The law was designed to regulate the foreign-born population and encourage eligible noncitizens to join the U.S. armed forces. Its requirements were written into the McCarran-Walter Act.

After the 9/11 terrorist attacks, the Bush administration created the National Security Entry-Exit Registration System, which targeted noncitizen males age 16 or older from 25 Muslim-majority countries. It required registrants to submit biometric information, check in regularly with immigration authorities and use specific ports of entry for travel.

The Obama administration suspended this system in 2011 and permanently dismantled it in 2016.

Today, Trump administration officials say they are simply enforcing long-standing legal authority. A federal judge agreed, ruling on April 10 that the Homeland Security Department could require noncitizens to register and carry documentation.
Travel bans redux

On June 2, Trump announced a new travel ban on foreign nationals from 12 countries, mostly in Africa and the Middle East. The ban draws its authority from the McCarran-Walter Act. Two days later, Trump claimed the same legal discretion to exclude Harvard University’s international students from the U.S.

During his first term, Trump invoked these sections of the law to justify a travel ban on seven predominantly Muslim countries. The U.S. Supreme Court ultimately upheld this action in 2018 by a 5-4 vote in Trump v. Hawaii. Writing for the majority, Chief Justice John Roberts stated that the travel ban was well within broad powers over immigration granted to the president under the McCarran-Walter Act. He added that the court had “no view on the soundness of the policy.”

Trump’s new ban is more carefully crafted than earlier versions and more likely to withstand legal challenges. But his efforts to use the McCarren-Walter Act to ban international students from attending Harvard University face stiff legal headwinds.

On May 22, Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem notified Harvard officials that the agency was revoking the school’s certification to participate in the Student and Exchange Visitor Program, which grants visas to international students to come to the U.S. In a June 4 proclamation, the White House claimed that foreign students at Harvard had behaved in ways that threatened U.S. national security.

A federal judge in Boston quickly blocked the revocation, holding that it violated core constitutional free speech rights. “The government’s misplaced efforts to control a reputable academic institution and squelch diverse viewpoints seemingly because they are, in some instances, opposed to this administration’s own views, threaten these rights,” wrote Judge Allison D. Burroughs.

The latest step came on July 9, when the Trump administration subpoenaed Harvard for information on its foreign students, including their disciplinary records and involvement in campus protests.
Broad power over noncitizens

Ironically, congressional sponsors of the McCarran-Walter Act were at odds with the White House when the law was enacted in 1952. They overrode a veto by President Harry S. Truman, who thought the law’s nativist ideas were unfitting for a nation of immigrants and global defender of democracy.

However, the expansive executive powers created by this law have endured largely unaltered over time, through waves of immigration reform.

Now they are a boon to the Trump administration’s ambitious immigration crackdown. It’s a telling reminder that repressive old laws can come back to life – even when they don’t reflect the current views of many Americans.

READ ORIGINAL STORY HERE