One of the potential impediments to having the government grant special access or protection to “the press” is identifying who counts as a journalist. Over the past few decades, changes in digital technology have dramatically lowered barriers to entry for those who gather and publish information or provide commentary.Footnote 1 One news scoop might appear in The New York Times while the next might come from the proverbial blogger in pajamas who is breaking news from bed. As we learned when a teenager in Minneapolis recorded the police murder of George Floyd in 2020,Footnote 2 images recorded by ordinary citizens and posted on social media can spark reform and even catalyze a social movement.
If these changes in who reports news and how it is disseminated mean that everyone is “the press,”Footnote 3 or at least that it is impossible to identify today who counts as “the press,” then any system of press exceptionalism that grants professional journalists special access or privileges is doomed to fail as potentially unconstitutional for being arbitrary or discriminatory.Footnote 4
In fact, despite two decades of pajama-wearing bloggers and even with billions of TikTok, X, Facebook, Instagram, and other social media users regularly posting audio, video, photos, and text, government entities continue to generally have little trouble differentiating between professional journalists – those who regularly gather, report, and disseminate information to the public – and others. Government entities regularly identify members of the press. They do so in order to grant them special access to court proceedings, emergency scenes such as fires or riots, the White House, and government briefings; to give them a special “shield” against testifying in court or turning over evidence about conversations with others gathered in the process of reporting; and to grant them exceptions from other rules applicable to others, such as the usual disclosure and other campaign finance rules that apply to those who disseminate candidate speech in cooperation with candidates.
These special press privileges are rarely subject to successful litigation, at least so far as is evident through reported court cases. And they tend to protect professional journalists, as they are the ones most often and likely fulfilling the core functions of the press in educating the public and checking the government for excess, corruption, and incompetence.Footnote 5
The biggest problem today for this type of “press exceptionalism” is not distinguishing between those who occasionally make or report news and those who do it as a profession. Government entities seem more than competent to draw those distinctions in ways that the courts have permitted. Instead, it is figuring out how to deal with those who are professional faux journalists: They act as though they are following journalistic standards and reporting the news, but they regularly and intentionally distribute false information for profit or political reasons or both. The question of how to treat sources like the website The Gateway Pundit that produce “real ‘fake news’” – “fabricated stories designed to achieve particular ends, whether of political strategy or financial gain or both,”Footnote 6 – threatens the continued vitality of press exceptionalism.
This chapter examines how government entities determine who is a journalist to allocate resources under conditions of scarcity and ensure that the press can conduct their functions without undue government regulation and interference. Using a new data set of 172 laws, rules, and procedures that different government entities have used to define the press, Section 17.1 describes the most common tests government entities employ to identify journalists and compares them to each other. Although the definitions and tests differ in their particulars – and some rules simply say they apply to “journalists,” “news media,” or similar such terms without further definition – most of the definitions appear aimed at identifying the class of professionals who regularly gather, report, and disseminate news.
Section 17.2 describes the relatively rare reported litigation around these press-defining rules, teasing out the potential dangers of relying on particular definitions of journalists. Much of the litigation easily distinguishes between professional and nonprofessional journalists, and a few cases have dealt with the exclusion of journalists for permissible reasons, such as disruptive behavior. But not every issue is easy. Using the example of litigation over Maricopa County, Arizona’s decision to exclude a faux journalist for The Gateway Pundit from an area where ballots were being tabulated following the 2022 elections, Section 17.2 focuses particularly on the line between unconstitutional viewpoint discrimination and permissible extension of the press exemption only to those who engage in legitimate professional journalism.
Section 17.3 then makes four normative recommendations about the tests government entities should use to define journalists. First, government entities should have explicit and meaningful standards for press exceptionalism. Entities should produce a set of written rules that are easily accessible and fairly applied. Second, most press exceptionalism should be limited to professional journalists who regularly produce news stories or commentary. It should not apply to the occasional blogger or poster on social media who is not regularly gathering, reporting, and disseminating news. Third, applicability of press exceptionalism should not turn on the type of technology, such as the use of digital technology, used to disseminate content. Fourth, and most controversially, government entities should continue to have the power to grant press exceptionalism to “bona fide correspondents of repute in their profession”Footnote 7 (a standard incorporated into some government press policies) so long as they do not engage in viewpoint discrimination. The key here is to exclude those who violate basic journalism norms by having no track record of consistently gathering, reporting, and disseminating truthful information or with a track record of consistently and intentionally reporting and disseminating empirically verifiable false claims as true.
The normative standards I suggest are consistent with the reasons for press exceptionalism: The press plays socially important functions in providing citizens, voters, and others with valuable information and checking the power of government. Rules should assure preferential access for professional journalists, regardless of the medium in which they work, who are most likely to fulfill these functions, without giving a government entity the opportunity for viewpoint discrimination among the class of professional journalists. The most difficult questions concern how to deal with faux journalists without slipping into viewpoint discrimination.
17.1 The Principles and Practices of Government Press Definitions
17.1.1 The Purposes of Defining the Press: Allocating Scarce Resources and Protecting the Press Function
The two primary reasons why government entities recognize press exceptionalism are allocation of space or other resources under conditions of scarcity and crafting exceptions to generally applicable rules so that the press can do its job unfettered by government regulation and limits.
Scarcity. Not everyone who wants to attend oral arguments in person at the U.S. Supreme Court can get in. There are three lines for attendance: one for lawyers who are admitted to the bar, another for the general public, and a third for people who are guests of the justices. There is a separate admission procedure for those who are credentialed members of the press. There are 439 seats, with 50 allocated to the public and 36 allocated to the press.Footnote 8
The Supreme Court maintains a press gallery in the courtroom where note taking and artist sketching is permitted. Access requires a Supreme Court “hard pass” or “day pass” issued by the Public Information Office (PIO).Footnote 9 Members of the press get additional access to other parts of the Supreme Court building. The Court maintains a pressroom and even has limited space for audio and video broadcasts.
The Court has issued three single-spaced pages of rules and four pages of commentary for obtaining the two types of press passes.Footnote 10 The Court revised the rules in 2015 “to address changes in the journalism profession.”Footnote 11 Early in its set of rules, the Court’s PIO explained its goals and the scarcity constraint it faces:
The PIO’s seven-member staff must carefully allocate the limited space and resources available for press usage. The Courtroom has a limited number of seats set aside exclusively for the media, and the press room has 18 carrels for the media’s use. To ensure efficient allocation of space and resources, the PIO has traditionally reserved hard passes for full-time professional journalists employed by media organizations that have records of substantial and original news coverage of the Court and a demonstrated need for regular access to the Court’s press facilities. The PIO makes no assessment of the content or quality of a journalist’s coverage in the credentialing process. But because the Court’s fundamental function is adjudication of important issues, the PIO must ensure that press credentialing does not create any appearance of partiality or unfair advantage among litigants or attorneys engaged in the Court’s judicial processes. And because a press credential provides access to non-public spaces, the PIO must also be attentive to security concerns.Footnote 12
The Supreme Court is not the only government entity that must deal with scarcity. To consider a few other common examples, the U.S. Department of Defense limits access to the Pentagon and nearby buildings only to approved journalists who apply, provide evidence that they are working as journalists with a bona fide need for access, and undergo a “security-awareness briefing.”Footnote 13 The city of Chicago limits “access to areas reserved for the news media for the purpose of gathering and editing spot news or photographing news events”Footnote 14 while the Riverside County Fire Department in California asks members of the press to wear press credentials if they are not otherwise easily identifiable as members of the press, such as through the presence of a television news van. “We realize that you have a job to do, and we will help facilitate that as long as you are not in the way of our operation. We know that you want to cover the story, not become a part of the story … Generally, you will have unlimited access to an emergency scene. The only reason a fire department in California can limit the media’s access is to prevent the media from interfering with the firefighters ability to do their job.”Footnote 15
Exceptions to Generally Applicable Rules. Sometimes a government law or policy will define the press not to secure access to a scarce resource but instead to exempt news media from otherwise generally applicable laws that, if applied to news media, could interfere with the press functions of informing the public and providing a check on government.
The most common example of these rules are media “shield” laws, which give the media a privilege against testifying about certain information, such as confidential sources. For example, under West Virginia law,
No reporter may be compelled to: (1) Testify in any civil, criminal, administrative or grand jury proceeding in any court in this state concerning the confidential source of any published or unpublished information obtained by the reporter in the course of the above described activities without the consent of the confidential source, unless such testimony is necessary to prevent imminent death, serious bodily injury or unjust incarceration; or (2) Produce any information or testimony that would identify a confidential source, without the consent of the confidential source, unless such testimony or information is necessary to prevent imminent death, serious bodily injury or unjust incarceration.Footnote 16
But laws protecting the press function go far beyond media shields. For example, the Federal Election Campaign Act imposes certain disclosure requirements and limits on corporate activity for those who make “expenditures” in relation to federal campaigns. The term “expenditure” is defined very broadly to include “anything of value, made by any person for the purpose of influencing any election for Federal office.”Footnote 17 However, applying the expenditure rules to media activities could ensnare news reporting and editorial writing into the realm of campaign finance law. Simply spending resources reporting and writing about a candidate running for federal office could count as an expenditure if it is intended to help the public decide whether the candidate is fit for office.
For this reason, the same law exempts from the definition of “expenditure” “any news story, commentary, or editorial distributed through the facilities of any broadcasting station, newspaper, magazine, or other periodical publication, unless such facilities are owned or controlled by any political party, political committee, or candidate.”Footnote 18
Congress enacted this press exemption to generally applicable campaign finance laws because it did not intend to “limit or burden in any way the First Amendment freedoms of the press and of association.” The exemption “assures the unfettered right of the newspapers, TV networks, and other media to cover and comment on political campaigns.”Footnote 19
Likely for similar reasons of not interfering with the press function, government entities sometimes exempt the press from definitions of lobbying. For example, Michigan law exempts from the definition of “lobbyist” a “publisher, owner, or working member of the press, radio, or television while disseminating news or editorial comment to the general public in the ordinary course of business.”Footnote 20
To consider one more example, an Oregon law regulating the types of mail that may be sent and received by patients in state institutions exempts “journalist mail” from certain restrictions, which the law defines as:
Any mail sent by a patient to a news media organization such as, but not limited to a newspaper, a magazine and a television station’s news department, or sent to a patient from a news media organization, and which is clearly labeled “journalist mail” on the addressee side of the envelope, set apart from the return and mailing addresses for ease of recognition, and where the news media organization is verifiable.Footnote 21
Sometimes, government entities enact rules that have the effect of subsidizing the press function. For example, the Federal Communications Commission has a set of detailed rules for determining how to respond to requests for documents under the Freedom of Information Act. These rules are derived from Congress’s FOIA rules contained in a federal statute, including a requirement to treat news media more favorably than the general public when it comes to public records requests.Footnote 22 The agency charges fees to search for documents and also fees for “review” of documents by government employees to determine if such documents are exempt from disclosure under complex FOIA rules. Charges for such document “review” apply to any “commercial use request,” a definition which otherwise could cover journalists who work for press entities (at least those press entities that run for-profit). The FCC rules, however, exempt from the definition of “commercial use” requests made by the news media.Footnote 23 This exemption means the government bears the cost of reviewing FCC documents sought by the news media, but other commercial enterprises pay for such document review.
17.1.2 Examples of How Government Entities Define the Press
Government officials must implement any rules providing for press exceptionalism, meaning that government officials must somehow identify who counts as the press for purposes of the relevant rule. As we will see, some laws, rules, and regulations do not define who counts as a journalist, leaving significant discretion in the hands of government officials. But most rules do offer some definitions or criteria.
Consider again the Supreme Court, which has particularly detailed and onerous rules given a situation of both great demand and a stark scarcity of space. To qualify for a Supreme Court press “hard pass” – which provides the greatest access and privileges to the Court – an applicant must be a “full-time journalist” who “operates or is employed by a media organization, and the applicant’s primary professional work is for the media organization through which the applicant seeks a hard pass.” Further, the “applicant or the applicant’s media organization [must have] a record of substantial and original news coverage of the work of the Court” and the applicant must attest that he or she “will be present at the Court regularly for reporting purposes.” Even meeting those requirements is not enough. The applicant cannot “practice law before the Court and [must be] independent of individuals and entities that practice law before the Court” and cannot have been a Court employee for the prior two years.Footnote 24
Perhaps because these rules come from an institution with leaders and a staff comprising elite lawyers, the “Commentary” to the Supreme Court’s rules provides additional guidance. For example, “We expect that an applicant will normally be able to satisfy the ‘full-time journalist’ requirement through the affirmation of the applicant’s employer or supervisor. To determine whether this requirement has been satisfied, we may also ask applicants if they hold active press credentials from another government entity, such as the Congressional or White House press galleries.”Footnote 25 And on the question of “substantial and original” news coverage of the Court, the commentary provides:
Journalists and organizations with records of substantial and original coverage of the Court are more likely to disseminate information about the Court’s work to the public. This requirement may be satisfied by documentation of past reporting. For journalists who have not previously covered the Court, the requirement may be satisfied if the applicant’s media organization – rather than the applicant – has regularly published substantial and original reporting about the Court.Footnote 26
For its October 2023 term, the Supreme Court reported that there were twenty-three hard pass holders (and two artists). All the hard pass holders were from major news outlets, like the Associated Press and the Washington Post, except for one: Amy Howe, of the Howe on the Court website and, much more prominently, of the widely respected SCOTUSblog website.Footnote 27 Indeed, it was the status of SCOTUSblog’s reporters that led the Supreme Court to revise its rules in 2015. Howe’s husband and SCOTUSblog co-founder, Tom Goldstein, was a regular Supreme Court practitioner. No doubt this circumstance led the Court to adopt the criterion of journalistic independence from lawyers appearing before the Court as a prerequisite to a Supreme Court hard pass.Footnote 28
Similarly, the Federal Election Commission (FEC) has provided guidance through its regulations and advisory opinions on the applicability of the media exemption. One regulation expands on the statutory provision exempting costs incurred by news media as an “expenditure,” which was written in 1974 as part of amendments to the Federal Election Campaign Act.Footnote 29 The regulation explicitly expands statutory language to cover newer forms of media not in existence when Congress crafted the press exemption:
Any cost incurred in covering or carrying a news story, commentary, or editorial by any broadcasting station (including a cable television operator, programmer or producer), website, newspaper, magazine, or other periodical publication, including any Internet or electronic publication, is not an expenditure unless the facility is owned or controlled by any political party, political committee, or candidate, in which case the cost for a news story:
(a) That represents a bona fide news account communicated in a publication of general circulation or on a licensed broadcasting facility; and
(b) That is part of a general pattern of campaign-related news account that give reasonably equal coverage to all opposing candidates in the circulation or listening area, is not an expenditure.Footnote 30
Federal Communications Commission regulations, in exempting news media from costs of reviewing documents requested under FOIA, similarly recognize that technology advances affect the definition of “news media.” It lists examples of the news media, entities such as:
television or radio stations broadcasting to the public at large and publishers of periodicals (but only if such entities qualify as disseminators of news) who make their products available for purchase or subscription by, or free distribution to, the general public. These examples are not all-inclusive. Moreover, as methods of news delivery evolve (for example, the adoption of electronic dissemination of newspapers through telecommunications services), such alternative media shall be considered to be news-media entities.Footnote 31
One of the more entertaining examples of an FEC advisory opinion discussing the scope of the press exemption concerned comedian Stephen Colbert’s creation of a “super PAC” (called “Americans for a Better Tomorrow, Tomorrow”), which he used to criticize campaign finance rules as part of his television show, “The Colbert Report.” The show appeared on the Comedy Central cable television channel owned by a corporation, Viacom. Colbert asked the FEC whether he could engage in certain political activities under the press exemption despite Viacom’s status as a corporation and given spending limits then in effect on corporations. In a lengthy opinion, the FEC applied its earlier precedents, cited congressional legislative history in creating the press exemption, and considered court cases in concluding that some of the activities proposed by Colbert and to be funded by Viacom would fall under the press exemption and other activities would not.Footnote 32
The Supreme Court and the FEC apply very different criteria in defining who can benefit from press rules, in part because the Supreme Court must deal with conditions of physical scarcity – only so many people can be present in the courtroom to watch the facial expressions and gestures of the justices, lawyers, and others – while there is no limit under FEC rules on how many entities and persons may be entitled to an exemption from generally applicable campaign finance laws. But the FEC is concerned that companies that own media but are not engaging in press functions in relation to certain election-related activities may try to use the exemption. It therefore must draw sensible and administrable lines to protect the press function while not allowing the exception to swallow up all of campaign finance law.
More generally, there are many ways to define the press, driven in part by the reasons for the definitions. For example, there is a legitimate government interest in keeping people away from an active fire scene. But it is also important that the government allow a limited number of qualified people access to the scene to provide the public with valuable and accurate reports about the conditions at the scene of the emergency. Likewise, allowing every blogger or Instagram poster to claim the media shield would end compelled testimony in court, which is vital for the courts’ role in determining truth. But giving professional news media a shield from testifying in court is also a good thing because it enables the press to protect confidential sources who provide information valuable to the public.
17.1.3 An Empirical Look at How Government Entities Define the Press
Here, I offer the first systematic analysis of how government entities define the press.Footnote 33 Thanks to the great efforts of a team of UCLA Law researchers led by Sherry Leysen and Sam Hall, we have compiled a database of 172 examples of government entities defining the press for one government purpose or another, and we have categorized how the government entities have done so.
The research team found the examples of government rules that define the press through a variety of searches of electronic databases including Westlaw, Google searches, and examinations of government entity websites.Footnote 34 The database is not comprehensive – for example, it leaves out some redundant rules concerning FOIA requests and similar procedures under state and local law – but does cover a wide spectrum of federal, state, and local government entities including agencies, courts, and police and fire departments. A methodological appendix, posted online, describes in greater detail the methodology for identifying and classifying these rules.Footnote 35
The major categories of rules in the 172-item database are: media shield laws and privileges (63 examples), media credentialing (27 examples), rules related to obtaining public records (24 examples), rules for student journalists (19 examples), rules related to emergencies or public safety (12 examples), and lobbying or campaign finance rules (8 examples).
Of the 172 rules, 95 expressly provide a definition or definitions of “the press” or a variant on the term and 112 (partially overlapping with the first group of rules) define “journalist” or a variant of the term. Consider, for example, the detailed rules for media accreditation at NASA. Its main rule provides access for “Professional News Media.” It provides:
Applicant must be employed or performing work on behalf of such news-gathering and distribution organizations as: newspapers, magazines, trade newsletters, television and radio stations, independent production companies with approved projects, and internet news sites. To be given NASA media credentials, individuals from these organizations must be full or part-time professional media (i.e. receive external payment for researching and reporting news/commentary/analysis/informational content). Media must report for the outlet they are credentialed under. Individuals not employed by such organizations will be considered freelancers.Footnote 36
Subsidiary rules govern accreditation by freelancers as well as for determining which internet organizations can qualify for the media accreditation. Among other things, applicants from internet organizations must show they are more than content aggregators, that content on the organization’s website is “accurate and updated regularly,” that content is “not solely to sell a product or service separate from the news/commentary/analysis/information,” that content “is not solely available and distributed on social media platforms, including, but not limited to blogs,” and that the “website exercises editorial oversight (i.e. runs corrections, updates).”Footnote 37
Of the 172 rules in the database, 33 define neither a journalist nor the press. However, some of these 33 rules still require some proof that the applicant is working as a professional journalist. For example, the U.S. Department of State does not define explicitly who is a journalist for the purpose of issuing a foreign individual a press pass. But the application process asks the applicant for, among other things, the name of the journalist’s organization, “a short (2–4 sentence) biography describing your work and experience as a journalist,” the “type of Media (magazine, newspaper, TV, radio, online, news agency, other),” the media’s audience size and its website address, “an original letter addressed to the State Department’s Foreign Press Centers … from the director of the media organization for which you work, written in English, on the organization’s letterhead, and dated no more than 30 days prior to your application, confirming the details of your assignment to the United States,” and “three articles, images, or other media produced by the applicant and run by foreign news organizations within the last sixty days that credit the applicant.”Footnote 38
A few rules leave the issue of determining who is a journalist in the hands of a government employee without much guidance and without recognition of changing technology. Consider Ohio’s media shield statute, which allows nondisclosure of sources by a “person engaged in the work of, or connected with, or employed by any newspaper or any press association for the purpose of gathering, procuring, compiling, editing, disseminating, or publishing news.”Footnote 39 Aside from the vagueness of terms such as being “connected with” a newspaper, how broadly should the term “newspaper” be read? Ohio judicial precedent suggests quite narrowly. A 1960 Ohio court case held that the statute did not include “periodicals” such as the Dun & Bradstreet financial reports.Footnote 40 The case is old but appears to remain good law. I have found no reported Ohio cases considering whether this privilege applies to full-time, online-only political websites or blogs, for example, if they might be considered “newspapers,” similar to when the FEC added websites to the statutory definition of what entities are covered by the campaign finance press exemption.Footnote 41
In looking through the definitions of “journalist,” “news media,” and the like among the rules in the database, the most common aim appears to be identifying people whose profession is journalism: those who gather, report, and disseminate news as their (full or part-time) jobs. For example, twenty rules in the database require the applicant to list the type of journalist employer for whom they work and/or provide a letter from this employer verifying employment. Eight rules require that the applicant attest or prove independence from lobbyists, with five of those also requiring independence from control of political parties. Seven rules require attestation that the reporting will cover the subject matter relevant to the requester’s access (as the Supreme Court rules do), and eleven rules require evidence of the requester’s standing or list as a standard the “bona fides” of the journalist or of the produced journalism.
Some of the rules rely at least in part on an external source of authority, such as a committee of journalists that helps police access. Under the rules for admission to the U.S. Senate gallery, a “Standing Committee of Correspondents,” elected by those who are already admitted with press privileges into the Senate, determines admission for “bona fide correspondents of repute in their profession.” This is a key standard, discussed more fully below.
In making such a showing, applicants for the U.S. Senate gallery must show that they are full-time paid correspondents, that they work for a “news organization” with daily publication and mailing privileges under U.S. Postal Service rules or “whose principal business is the daily dissemination of original news and opinion of interest to a broad segment of the public, and which has published continuously for 18 months.”Footnote 42 Further,
the applicant must reside in the Washington, D.C. area, and must not be engaged in any lobbying or paid advocacy, advertising, publicity or promotion work for any individual, political party, corporation, organization, or agency of the U.S. Government, or in prosecuting any claim before Congress or any federal government department, and will not do so while a member of the Daily Press Galleries.
Applicants’ publications must be editorially independent of any institution, foundation or interest group that lobbies the federal government, or that is not principally a general news organization.Footnote 43
Rules for student media unsurprisingly refer to recognition by the university where the student is engaging in journalism. For example, a Hawaii law protecting student journalists from certain adverse consequences for controversial reporting defines a student journalist as “a student who determines, gathers, compiles, writes, edits, photographs, records, or prepares information or advertising for inclusion in university-sponsored media.”Footnote 44 The statute also defines what counts and what is excluded from the definition of “university-sponsored media.”Footnote 45
17.2 Litigation over Government Press Exceptionalism
Litigation over who is entitled to press exceptionalism is relatively rare. Of the 172 rules in the database, 136 did not lead to reported decisions over who is entitled to exercise the exemption.Footnote 46 This section considers the cases that have led to reported decisions and concludes that they are generally unremarkable and involved people or entities who either are not professionals or are journalists who were excluded from certain press privileges for not meeting certain objective criteria. The exception is the recent case of TGP Communications, LLC v. Sellers, which involved The Gateway Pundit, a far-right outlet known for spreading disinformation. This case raised difficult questions about the line between determining bona fide journalist qualifications and impermissible viewpoint discrimination.
17.2.1 People or Entities Who Are Not Professionals
A good number of the cases involve people who are not members of the professional media claiming a press privilege.Footnote 47 For example, in Borden v. Bare, a federal district court held that Fresno County, California, sheriffs did not violate the constitutional rights of a person who was not a member of the media and who attempted to stand in the “designated media area” around a county courthouse to make a cellphone recording of the courthouse’s lobby and security area. She was arrested when she would not leave after being asked to do so. In this case, even the plaintiff did not contend that she was a member of the news media.Footnote 48
Similarly, in Campaign Legal Center v. Federal Election Commission,Footnote 49 a super PAC supporting Hillary Clinton’s presidential campaign argued that it was entitled to the media exemption from limits on campaign contributions to a candidate. The PAC claimed the press exemption because one of the things it did was write op-eds in support of Clinton’s candidacy. Treating the matter as self-evident, the district court concluded that the PAC could not qualify for the exemption because the media exemption “is for the media.” It held the Federal Election Commission acted in an arbitrary and capricious manner in concluding otherwise.Footnote 50
Along similar lines, a Texas appellate court denied media status to a labor union operating a website. In Service Employees International Union No. 5 v. Professional Janitorial Service of Houston, Inc.,Footnote 51 a labor union was sued for defamation and other torts by PJS, a janitorial service, for statements made on the union’s website. The union regularly communicated through its website, which had over 4,000 visitors per day. When the trial court denied the union summary judgment on its claims, it sought to take an interlocutory appeal before the case went to trial. Such an appeal before trial in a defamation case is allowed under Texas law only for members of the news media, including electronic media. The union claimed its website counted as electronic media, but the appeals court disagreed, concluding in an extensive analysis that “although the record establishes that the union publishes information concerning political and social issues to the public through its websites, the record does not establish that the union’s primary business is reporting the news or that it was acting in the capacity of a journalist or news reporter in publish[ing] its statements about PJS. Thus, the union does not qualify as a ‘member of the electronic media.’”Footnote 52
17.2.2 Journalists Excluded for Not Meeting Objective Criteria
Some cases involve journalists who argue that they were improperly excluded from press access.Footnote 53 Most of these cases are unsuccessful. In one, a journalist complained that he was being excluded from press conferences held by Chicago’s mayor on the grounds that he was asking difficult questions, but the journalist’s own evidence showed that his “aggressive and irate” behavior in government offices was the reason for his exclusion.Footnote 54
In Ateba v. Jean-Pierre,Footnote 55 Simon Ateba, a journalist working for Today News Africa, complained when he and about 500 other journalists lost “hard pass” access to the White House when the White House reinstated an earlier policy requiring that applicants for a hard pass show they held a press credential from the Supreme Court or the press gallery of one of the Houses of Congress. Ateba had some history of interrupting White House press conferences to complain that he was not getting answers to his press inquiries about issues concerning US-Africa relations, and he claimed viewpoint discrimination.
A federal district court rejected his arguments. The court held that the “bona fide correspondents of repute in their profession” standard from the Senate Press gallery as administered by the Standing Committee of Correspondents (discussed above) imposed professional standards that did not violate the First Amendment. “Importantly, reliance on a professional credentialing body also tends to reduce the risk Ateba apparently fears most – that the White House will discriminate against journalists based on their relationship with the White House.”Footnote 56
The Ateba case stands in marked contrast to clashes between the Trump White House and journalists Jim Acosta and Brian Karem, both of whom had their hard press passes suspended on grounds of supposedly unprofessional behavior. Federal courts ordered the press passes restored because the White House violated the journalists’ due process rights in not providing sufficient notice of the kind of conduct that could merit a suspension.Footnote 57 Similarly, in Alaska Landmine, LLC v. Dunleavy,Footnote 58 a federal district court held that an Alaska governor’s decision of who to include in or exclude from press conferences likely violated due process because of the failure of the governor’s office to articulate an “explicit and meaningful standard” for inclusion or exclusion of those seeking press access.Footnote 59 The plaintiff was a political blogger who previously was invited to governor press conferences but was then excluded.
17.2.3 Exclusion of Potentially Faux Journalists Who Are Not “Bona Fide Correspondents of Repute in Their Profession”
By far the most difficult issue today on the question of press exceptionalism concerns not the line between professionals and nonprofessionals but between professionals who adhere to journalistic standards and faux journalists who are employed to regularly produce real “fake news.”Footnote 60 In the era of cheap speech, it is easy to produce content that appears to be journalism but in fact complies with no journalistic norms, such as verification of facts, and is instead intentional propaganda shared solely for political motives or profit.Footnote 61
A recent case, TGP Communications, LLC v. Sellers, illustrates the problem. In an unpublished order (not citable as precedent under the court’s rules),Footnote 62 a U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit panel granted an injunction pending appeal to Jordan Conradson, a “reporter” for the website The Gateway Pundit, after Conradson was denied a press pass to observe the counting of ballots after the 2022 midterm elections by Maricopa County, Arizona.Footnote 63 Maricopa County rules for issuing a press pass had much in common with other rules covered in this chapter, and the county copied the rules used for press passes by Wisconsin’s governor and upheld against First Amendment challenge at the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Seventh Circuit (in a case discussed later in this section).Footnote 64 The rules included these requirements:
e. Is the petitioner a bona fide correspondent of repute in their profession, and do they and their employing organization exhibit the following characteristics?
i. Both avoid real or perceived conflicts of interest;
ii. Both are free of associations that would compromise journalistic integrity or damage credibility;
iii. Both decline compensation, favors, special treatment, secondary employment, or political involvement where doing so would compromise journalistic integrity; and
iv. Both resist pressures from advertisers, donors, or any other special interests to influence coverage.Footnote 65
Maricopa County had determined that Conradson did not qualify for a press pass because he and The Gateway Pundit “(a) do not avoid real or perceived conflicts of interest and (b) are not free of associations that would compromise journalistic integrity or damage credibility.” And the county found that Conradson is “not a bona fide correspondent of repute in [his] profession.”Footnote 66
The Ninth Circuit, stressing the preliminary nature of the review of denial of a temporary restraining order, held that Conradson and The Gateway Pundit would likely succeed on appeal because the county likely engaged in viewpoint discrimination in violation of the First Amendment.Footnote 67
In support of its argument that Conradson had a conflict of interest violating the rules, the county noted that Conradson attended political party events, but it presented no other evidence of conflicts of interest. The Ninth Circuit held that this was insufficient evidence of a conflict.Footnote 68 More importantly, the county pointed to what it saw as Conradson’s unprofessionalism, demonstrating that he was not a journalist of good repute:
As part of the application process, Mr. Conradson submitted three links to work examples. Those three articles … do little more than proselytize The Gateway Pundit’s views. Each article germinates from a news report or press release (such as the County’s announcement of Press Pass criteria). Mr. Conradson then expresses an opinion about the news report or press release and supports that opinion by referencing like-minded social media posts, prior articles by The Gateway Pundit, and allying websites that express the same viewpoints. Moreover, each article uses inflammatory and/or accusatory language, such as “Fake News Media,” “globalist elitist establishment,” and “highly flawed 2022 Primary Elections.” And while Mr. Conradson is certainly entitled to express his opinions, his poorly sourced, researched, and reported work lacks the journalistic integrity and credibility required by the Press Pass criteria.Footnote 69
Instead of viewing the county’s evidence as proof of Conradson’s lack of bona fide standing among journalists, the Ninth Circuit saw it as an indication that the county was engaged in viewpoint discrimination:
It is the County’s politically-tinged assessment of Conradson’s prior reporting that appears to have led it to deny him a press pass. That type of viewpoint-based discrimination is exactly what the First Amendment protects against. Because it appears at this preliminary stage that the County engaged in viewpoint discrimination, it is likely that the County’s denial of a press pass will not survive review when considering Conradson’s as-applied challenge.Footnote 70
The Ninth Circuit also rejected the relevance of other evidence of Conradson’s unprofessional behavior as probative of his lack of bona fides:
The county noted that “Conradson appeared at press conference on October 13, 2022, with a hidden camera. On November 10, 2022, he showed up at [the Maricopa County Tabulation and Election Center] under the guise of being there to pick up his credentials.” He allegedly became disruptive, and the County had to remove him from the facility. Such conduct is troubling. None of these subsequent acts, however, could have influenced the County’s previous denial of the press pass.Footnote 71
This case later settled and so the record was not more fully developed. At the early stages of the litigation, the county did not appear to present more evidence about whether Conradson and The Gateway Pundit were engaged in legitimate journalism.
A more fully developed record might well have led the courts to conclude that The Gateway Pundit should be considered faux journalism and not comprised of “bona fide correspondents of repute in their profession.” One academic study of websites purporting to present news, for example, found the organization to be one of the leading sources of false claims online in the United States,Footnote 72 including the incendiary false claim that the 2020 US presidential election was stolen. The fact-checking organization PolitiFact examined 26 claims made by The Gateway Pundit and rated 23 of the 26, or 88 percent of them, “mostly false,” “false,” or “pants on fire” false.Footnote 73 Both Facebook and Twitter removed and demoted content from the website and its founder on grounds of persistent spread of disinformation.Footnote 74
In briefing on the appeal, Maricopa County further claimed that items posted on The Gateway Pundit and by Conradson encouraged threats of violence against county workers: “For example, Mr. Conradson published a blog post wherein he falsely accused an election worker of improperly accessing and deleting election data, and he included the election worker’s name and photograph in the post. This post directly led to the election worker in question receiving death threats, including statements such as ‘hang that crook from [the] closest tree so people can see what happens to traitors,’ in the comments to Mr. Conradson’s post.”Footnote 75
The county claimed it was motivated by security concerns rather than viewpoint discrimination in excluding Conradson, noting that the county had given press passes to companies it considered ideologically similar, such as Newsmax, the Western Journal, and the Epoch Times.Footnote 76 The Gateway Pundit countered that the county had not raised security concerns in denying Conradson a press pass, that evidence of such threats was not in the record, that the threats did not come from defendants, and that there was insufficient evidence as to the similarity between The Gateway Pundit and others given press passes.Footnote 77
More significantly for the purposes of this chapter, some supporters of The Gateway Pundit argue that it is unconstitutional to award press passes only to journalists who are bona fide professionals of repute. For example, the group FIRE (Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression) filed an amicus brief along with another organization in the TGP Communications case attacking the very idea that government entities are permitted to consider standards such as repute in the profession or commitment to objectivity as a legitimate basis to decide who gets a press pass. FIRE wrote that “terms like ‘repute,’ ‘associations,’ ‘journalistic integrity,’ and ‘credibility’” are vague and standardless. It further argued that it “is highly questionable whether the government even could devise non-viewpoint discriminatory criteria to decide whether a journalist demonstrates ‘objectivity,’ because requiring a journalist to be ‘objective’ inherently requires him to meet the government’s conception of a particular viewpoint (‘objectivity’) and punishes him for reporting from other viewpoints (such as a conservative slant).”Footnote 78
In making its argument, FIRE sought to have the Ninth Circuit reject a contrary holding of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Seventh Circuit in John K. MacIver Institute for Public Policy v. Evers.Footnote 79 That case concerned an application by the Wisconsin governor’s office of the same standards later adopted by Maricopa County to exclude someone from a press conference on grounds of not meeting the standards. The Seventh Circuit defended the governor’s standards as reasonable, viewpoint neutral, consistent with public policy in informing the public, and in line with similar standards used by the U.S. Congress and many others.Footnote 80 Ateba too is a case where a federal district court appeared to uphold the general permissibility of a “bona fide repute in the profession” standard.Footnote 81
17.3 How Government Entities Should Define the Press in Light of First Amendment Values for Press Exceptionalism
In this final section of the chapter, I turn from describing and analyzing how government entities actually determine who is the press for purposes of press exceptionalism to the question of how they should do so. In setting forth four principles, I am guided by the normative view that press exceptionalism benefits the public when it facilitates the press function of providing the public regularly with valuable information and serving as a check on government overreach, corruption, or unconstitutional action. (Following Sonja West, I believe that First Amendment protection for freedom of speech, properly understood, should provide great protection for those not able to take advantage of press exceptionalism who occasionally engage in newsgathering, reporting, and disseminating information.Footnote 82)
First, consistent with the Dunleavy case,Footnote 83 government entities should articulate explicit and meaningful standards for enforcing press exceptionalism. The entity should publish a set of written rules that are easily accessible and fairly applied. Without such standards, arbitrary government action becomes too likely. Lack of written standards can also create the appearance of favoritism even if unwritten rules are being applied consistently. As the D.C. Circuit held in a 1977 case, the White House’s “failure to articulate and publish an explicit and meaningful standard governing denial of White House press passes for security reasons, and to afford procedural protections to those denied passes, violates the First and Fifth Amendments.”Footnote 84
Second, most press exceptionalism should be limited to professional journalists who regularly produce news stories or commentary. Especially under conditions of scarcity, those who are most likely to regularly provide the public with reliable information and serve as a check on the government should be the ones with the greatest access and freedom from otherwise applicable government regulation. Professionalism does not require that the person is necessarily paid by a news organization, although that is strong evidence of working in the journalism profession. The key is the regularity of gathering, reporting, and disseminating information. Such a standard protects student journalists working with university-affiliated media, for example. It does not, however, cover bloggers or social media posters who only on rare occasions make or break news or who rarely provide news analysis or commentary.
Third, the question of applicability of a rule of press exceptionalism should not turn on the type of technology used to disseminate journalism. Today, even many long-standing respected local newspapers publish most or all of their news digitally, and many, to save costs, have eliminated print editions. There is no reason to believe that content published via new technology should be subject to different standards than content produced for newspapers, magazines, radio, or television.
Digital media did not exist when government officials crafted many of the press exceptionalism rules in my database. Some government entities have read language broadly – such as reading the term “newspaper” to encompass new forms of news media. When possible as a matter of statutory interpretation, this type of broad reading of rules benefits society. When such interpretation is not fairly possible, legislatures or government entities should revise or rewrite the rules to account for changes in technology.
Saying that technology of dissemination should not be relevant to press exceptionalism is different from arguing that every blogger or poster on social media is entitled to press exceptionalism. In fact, the focus on professional journalism would mean that in the current moment, most bloggers and social media posters would not be entitled to such an exception. But professional journalists working in new media should be treated the same as professional journalists working in legacy media. NASA’s ban on all “bloggers,” for example (which it classifies incorrectly as a type of “social media”), should be changed. People who work as professional journalists should qualify, whether they write their professional journalism for a blog or another website or not.
Fourth, and most controversially and delicately, government entities, or journalistic societies given powers by government entities, should continue to have the power to identify the press by reference to a “bona fide correspondents of repute in their profession” standard, so long as they do not engage in viewpoint discrimination.
We should reject the nihilism of a post-truth world, insisting that we cannot distinguish between The New York Times and The Gateway Pundit and that there is no way of measuring objectivity in reporting. In contrast to the arguments of FIRE and others, there are empirically verifiable facts in the world, and entities purporting to be journalists that systematically deny those facts or regularly present empirically false claims as facts should not be considered journalists entitled to press exceptionalism. The best way to enforce such rules is by examining whether the entity claiming press privileges complies with journalistic practices, such as fact-checking, giving those written about a chance to respond, and not reporting empirically false facts as proven. These issues can be examined in a systematic way without inviting arbitrary government action.
The key is to avoid slipping into viewpoint discrimination, particularly if the viewpoints expressed by the person seeking press exceptionalism are controversial. Someone who proves employment as a professional journalist should be denied press privileges only if the person seeking press status has no track record of consistently gathering, reporting, and disseminating truthful information, or if the person has a track record of consistently reporting and disseminating empirically verifiable false claims as true. This standard takes away most discretion on the part of government entities, giving them something specific and empirically verifiable to focus on, and such a decision may be meaningfully reviewed by courts.
This standard unavoidably puts government bodies in the position of deciding whether those purporting to be journalists are regularly peddling lies rather than the truth, and this no doubt presents some dangers.Footnote 85 What would stop a deceptive government entity from declaring real professional journalists to be faux journalists peddling fake news? Here, we must rely upon the courts to look over the shoulder of those government officials to ensure that the inquiry is not a pretext for viewpoint discrimination.
Judicial review appeared to work in the TGP Communications case. Maricopa County should not have relied on the fact that Conradson “expresse[d] his opinion” in his articles or that he used “inflammatory and/or accusatory language, such as ‘Fake News Media,’ ‘globalist elitist establishment,’ and ‘highly flawed 2022 Primary Elections’”Footnote 86 to deny press access. These criteria indeed appear aimed at discriminating against the journalist and his publication for his viewpoint. These criteria do not point to whether Conradson was gathering and reporting true facts, regardless of his political spin or ideology.
But if the county could have demonstrated that Conradson showed no track record of consistently gathering, reporting, and disseminating truthful information, or if he had had a consistent track record of reporting and disseminating empirically verifiable false claims as true, then the county reasonably could have denied him press privileges without violating the First Amendment.Footnote 87
This line between determining a journalist’s bona fides and engaging in viewpoint discrimination requires a careful look at the record of the person seeking the press exemption, and doubtful cases should be resolved in favor of press exceptionalism.Footnote 88 But there are cases where press privileges could and should be properly denied when a full-time professional faux journalist is not engaged in the act of journalism, and government entities should be allowed to say so in appropriate cases and act on this conclusion. Denial of press privileges to faux journalists furthers the reasons for having press exceptionalism in the first place.
Finally, it is worth recognizing the potential political backlash that may come from allowing government entities to exclude faux journalists from press exceptionalism. The Gateway Pundit, for example, has consistently spread false statements, such as about rigged or stolen elections, favored by right-wing populists. A decision to exclude The Gateway Pundit from observing Maricopa County’s ballot-counting process, particularly when election denialists were falsely claiming that such counting was “rigged,” likely would be seen by some as viewpoint discrimination even if the exclusion was based solely upon the website’s failure to adhere to basic journalistic practices.
To mitigate this risk, government entities, as noted above, should resolve close cases in favor of press exceptionalism. A partisan press is becoming increasingly the norm again in American journalism,Footnote 89 and government entities should be careful not to confuse the question of the political views of a journalist (or the journalist’s employer) with whether a person posing as a journalist is actually a journalist. Journalists and entities can hold and write from whatever point of view they like without risking the benefits of press exceptionalism. What people claiming to be journalists cannot do if they want the benefits of press exceptionalism is consistently present empirically verifiable false statements as true or consistently deny the truth of empirically verifiable true statements. In the end, how government entities handle this difficult question could reflect not only on the legitimacy of journalism but on the legitimacy of government and US democracy as well.
In October of 2012, something momentous happened in the clash between the law of privacy and the law of press: Gawker, a website that specialized in sensational news often involving celebrities – one that promoted itself as making “today’s gossip … tomorrow’s news” – published professional wrestler Hulk Hogan’s sex tape without his permission.
It was momentous because the not-safe-for-work post illustrates how difficult it can be to define news, how the meaning of “the press” has changed in an internet age, and how legal protections for traditional newsgatherers can be imperiled if the words “news” and “press” are stretched too broadly to include all truth and all publishers. Those matters are the focus of this chapter.
The two-minute-long, black-and-white, grainy Hogan sex tape was not at all Hollywood-esque; it showed HoganFootnote 1 completely nude, very much engaged in explicit sexual activity with a woman on a bed in someone else’s house, handling himself in a way that indicated that he was quite unaware that he was being filmed (not that that would matter). Gawker headlined its scoop: “Even For a Minute, Watching Hulk Hogan Have Sex in a Canopy Bed Is Not Safe For Work, But Watch It Anyway.” Millions did.
Within days, Hulk Hogan’s lawyers announced that they would sue Gawker on behalf of their client and would stake their claim on the “basic concept” of “invasion of privacy.”Footnote 2 Publishing another’s explicit sexual activity, the attorneys said, “cannot be tolerated by a civil society.”Footnote 3
Gawker’s lawyers came out swinging in response: “Tabloid journalism in America is protected under the newsworthy standard every day,” they argued, and they maintained that the tape had real news value.Footnote 4 Gawker’s journalists even more vehemently argued that the First Amendment protected their decision to publish, that the Constitution unambiguously “afford[ed] [them] the right to publish true things about public figures,” and that any other legal decision would be “risible and contemptuous of centuries of First Amendment jurisprudence.”Footnote 5
I had heard about the sex tape very early on because a student had sent me a link to Gawker’s original not-safe-for-work post. The student’s sharing wasn’t salacious; it was academic. I had been predicting in my media-related law classes for years that a gossip-type website would someday publish a sex tape featuring a celebrity and would suggest that the tape had news value protected by the Constitution. It had finally happened.
A brief bit of background is in order here. I became a law professor at the dawn of the internet age after an initial career in journalism. For nearly a decade, both before and during law school (and at some points after), I worked in journalism, mainly as a television news anchor, reporter, and producer in Toledo, Ohio; Salisbury, Maryland; Charlottesville, Virginia; Harrisburg, Pennsylvania; and Detroit, Michigan. I learned much in those newsrooms and television stations about the craft of journalism and about the ethics, principles, and gut feelings that stopped journalists from publishing many things that most people would consider deeply private. I recall learning from police precisely how a public figure had died, for example, which involved sexual information that would have mortified his family; I of course did not include such detail in news stories about his death. The fact that we had video of newsworthy tragedies like car accidents and plane crashes made such ethics decisions all the more routine and often easy because what we had on tape was so troubling. Our newsroom rule was that there would be no gruesome images of people and no death images. When Pennsylvania’s state treasurer died by suicide at a press conference, I played a key role in our newsroom decision to freeze the video at the moment that he pulled the gun from his briefcase, even though our cameras had captured everything that transpired that tragic day. We would at times unintentionally capture video of embarrassing things, such as a clothing malfunction on a windy day or a person who fell on the street, and those videos were off limits too.
Many newsrooms like mine had their own ethics codes that guided such news decisions. The main one that journalists across the United States followed and continue to follow was drafted by the Society of Professional Journalists. “Only an overriding public need can justify intrusion into anyone’s privacy,” the SPJ Code read. It told reporters to “[a]void pandering to lurid curiosity” too.
That’s why, when I joined the permanent faculty at the University of Illinois College of Media and its College of Law, I jumped at the chance to teach journalism ethics and I chose privacy as the main focus for my scholarship. I was particularly interested in the conflict between privacy and the freedom to publish truth. I knew my own sensibilities, I knew journalism’s ethics provisions, and I was intrigued when judges opined on the newsworthiness of journalistic decisions, at times deferring to publishers even in surprising situations.
That was in the early 2000s, and it soon became clear that the democratization of the internet and the ease of publishing had changed things. Suddenly, ethics-abiding gatekeepers of information like the journalists I had worked with for years – those commonly deferred to by judges – were not the norm. Suddenly, anyone could assess the public interest in anything (or not) and instantly publish whatever they believed would satisfy it, including the graphic or embarrassing visuals and information that would have never made it to any one of our newscasts.
That, then, is the background inspiration for my two decades of scholarship. I’ve written, for example, about the strikingly critical description of journalism in the famous law review article, titled The Right to Privacy, published in 1890 by Samuel Warren and Louis Brandeis, and argued that sensationalistic coverage both of Warren’s family and his friend Grover Cleveland (a president with a scandalous past) had been the main spark for the piece.Footnote 6 I wrote in the California Law Review about a shift in court decisions in favor of privacy and against press freedoms, comparing journalism’s ethics provisions with what at the time was far more permissive law.Footnote 7
My first media-focused book, The First Amendment Bubble: How Privacy and Paparazzi Threaten a Free Press, explored the press-privacy clash even more deeply.Footnote 8 And my most recent book, Seek and Hide: The Tangled History of the Right to Privacy,Footnote 9 named by The New York Times as one of the 100 Notable Books for 2022, looked at the press-privacy clash over time, all the way back to the earliest days when Massachusetts was a colony and shut down a newspaper in part for reporting that the King of France was having an affair with his daughter-in-law. So, back in 2012, when that former student sent me a link to the Hulk Hogan sex tape, I instantly recognized the constitutional clash – and I also suspected that Hulk Hogan would ultimately win.
18.1 A Brief History of Privacy and News
When Gawker journalists argued in the wake of Hulk Hogan’s invasion-of-privacy lawsuit that a legal decision in favor of Hulk Hogan would be “risible and contemptuous of centuries of First Amendment jurisprudence,” they weren’t exactly right. From the very beginning of the United States, even before the First Amendment was ratified, there was recognition – sometimes troubling recognition – that not all bits of truthful information had equal news value. Back then, what we might today call invasion of privacy was known in part as “truthful libel,” called that because, judges and other thought leaders said, truthful information could be more harmful at times to a person’s reputation and emotions than falsity. Blackstone’s Commentaries on the Laws of England had supported that idea to some extent, suggesting that, despite the essentiality of freedom of the press, those who published things that were “improper, mischievous, or illegal,” including non-justifiable information about extramarital affairs, it was suggested, “must take the consequence of [their] own temerity.”Footnote 10
At least some of the Founders seemed to agree. Consider the discussion about the boundaries of press freedom between William Cushing and John Adams, who were particularly concerned that the Constitution might protect newspapers that reported on what they called politicians’ “instances of male conduct” – their extramarital immoral behavior. Cushing, who would later become a justice on the U.S. Supreme Court, suggested that the person should be protected in such instances, not the publisher. “My question is this,” Cushing’s letter to Adams read, “[W]hether it is consistent with [the First Amendment], to deem & adjudge any publications of the press, punishable as libels, that may arraign the conduct of persons in office, charging them with instances of male conduct repugnant to the duty of their offices & to the public good & Safety; – when such charges are supportable by the truth of fact?”Footnote 11 “Doubtless,” he added, the liberty of the press “may & ought to be restrainable” in some of those cases.Footnote 12
Adams agreed. “You may easily conceive a Case, when a Scandalous Truth may be told of a Man, without any honest motive, and merely from malice,”Footnote 13 he replied to Cushing. “[I]n Such a Case, Morality and religion would forbid a Man from doing Mischief merely from Malevolence, and I thought that Law would give damages.”
Thereafter, a court in New Orleans in 1811 sided with a man who’d written a love letter and against a newspaper that had threatened to publish it.Footnote 14 Whatever press freedoms existed in the publication of the letter, the court explained, paled in comparison to the plaintiff’s privacy interests, and it repeatedly condemned the publisher who would share such truthful information. Any constitutional promise of a free press, it said, would not protect the publisher of personal secrets:
If [the First Amendment] can be invoked to support the defendant, in the right of … violating the secrets of his correspondence, it will protect the propagation of any slander or libel. Neither Congress, nor the Circuit Court of the United States, seem to have ever considered this article as susceptible of so strange a construction.
A little more than a century later, the first Restatement on Torts protected privacy in a similar way. “A person who unreasonably and seriously interferes with another’s interest in not having his affairs known to others,” the provision read in 1939, was liable for what was called “Interference with Privacy.”Footnote 15 Such protection for privacy included seemingly newsworthy situations; those Restatement authors would have held a newspaper liable for publishing a photograph taken in public of a “hideously deformed” person harmed at birth by inexpert medical care, even when that photograph accompanied an article about the need for better medical care for newborns.Footnote 16
Forty years later, when the American Law Institute published the Second Restatement on Torts, it included a parallel provision titled Publicity Given to Private Life.Footnote 17 “One who gives publicity to a matter concerning the private life of another,” the provision read, “is subject to liability to the other for invasion of his privacy, if the matter publicized is of a kind that (a) would be highly offensive to a reasonable person, and (b) is not of legitimate concern to the public.” As for what would be both highly offensive and not of legitimate concern, the Restatement authors suggested that “[s]exual relations … are normally entirely private matters” and that “even the actress … is entitled to keep to herself … such intimate details of her life.”Footnote 18
But the American Law Institute added an important note to this new publication-related privacy tort:
It has not been established with certainty that liability of this nature is consistent with the free-speech and free-press provisions of the First Amendment to the Constitution, as applied to state law through the Fourteenth Amendment.Footnote 19
That warning note made sense for several reasons. Once journalism turned away from scandal and started to abide by ethics standards more generallyFootnote 20 (a shift that occurred mainly in the 1920s and 1930s), court decisions increasingly deferred to journalism’s news judgment in many cases that involved claimed invasion of privacy, sometimes even in a constitutional sense. The Supreme Court wrote in Gertz v. Robert Welch, Inc., a 1974 defamation case concerning the assessment of matters of general public interest, for example, that it doubted the wisdom of committing such an assessment task to judges.Footnote 21 In another case that same year, the justices worried even more strongly about judicial interference with the news judgment of journalists, suggesting that “government regulation of this crucial process” was inconsistent “with First Amendment guarantees.”Footnote 22 And then, in 1975, in Cox Broadcasting v. Cohn,Footnote 23 the Court held that a television station that had broadcast the name of a deceased rape victim would not be liable for a privacy invasion despite her grieving father’s emotional pain and a state statute that allowed punishment for such a publication. It seemed that much, if not all, truthful information, even emotionally harmful information, would be protected.
The already deferential lower courts generally followed suit. Four years after Cox Broadcasting, in 1979, the Iowa Supreme Court held that “[i]n determining whether an item is newsworthy, courts cannot impose their own views about what should interest the community.”Footnote 24 Judges, the court added, “do not have license to sit as censors.”Footnote 25 Federal courts suggested the same: “[J]udges, acting with the benefit of hindsight,” the First Circuit wrote in 1989, should not assess journalistic news judgment aggressively, because “[e]xuberant judicial blue-penciling after-the-fact would blunt the quills of even the most honorable journalists.”Footnote 26
But shortly thereafter, in the mid-to-late 1990s, the internet exploded in a very real way. Rather suddenly, it was not at all clear which publishers qualified as journalists and what truthful publications qualified as journalism. If there were indeed honorable journalists whose sharp quills needed judicial defenders and if indeed the law protected a journalistic judgment of newsworthiness, what about the bloggers and the social media posters and the others who created websites filled with a reality that wreaked emotional harm? Would those assessors of information of public interest and publishers of truth be protected too?
By 2007, the answer, at least in many places, appeared to be no. “Ethical standards regarding the acceptability of certain discourse have been lowered,” the Ohio Supreme Court wrote in a case that recognized for the very first time in the state the privacy tort of false light, even though the justices had rejected it in the past as being too similar to defamation.Footnote 27 “[A]s the ability to do harm has grown,” those justices wrote, referring to the internet, “so must the law’s ability to protect the innocent.”Footnote 28
That same sort of shift seemed to be happening at the United States Supreme Court too.
18.2 Bartnicki v. Vopper and Hulk Hogan
In 2001, eleven years before Gawker published the Hulk Hogan sex tape, the Supreme Court decided Bartnicki v. Vopper.Footnote 29 The decision was an important one for media; the justices had found that a radio station would not be liable for publishing a cellphone conversation that had been surreptitiously recorded by an unknown person and had been given to the radio station by someone who did not work there. On the tape, an official who represented the local teachers’ union had suggested that violence might be used against school board officials in order to influence a labor dispute. The Supreme Court held that such a discussion was in itself a matter of public concern. Even though the revelation of the wiretapped conversation violated federal law, the justices reasoned, the later broadcast of that recording was not unlawful because the First Amendment protected the station’s decision to publish such “unquestionably” newsworthy information. “[S]tate action to punish the publication of truthful information seldom can satisfy constitutional standards,” the Court wrote, quoting its own language from 1979’s Smith v. Daily Mail Publishing.Footnote 30
There were three wrinkles in Bartnicki, however, and each suggested that, like the lower courts, the Supreme Court might also be shifting away from broad protection for publishers – a shift springing in part from willy-nilly publication decisions.
The first wrinkle was that the Bartnicki decision did not sweep broadly. The radio station had not been involved in the surreptitious recording of the information itself; it had been given the tape by a person unaffiliated with the station and, therefore, was innocent of any wrongdoing. There remained a “still-open question,” the Court wrote, and that was “whether, in cases where information has been acquired unlawfully by a newspaper or by a source, government may ever punish not only the unlawful acquisition, but the ensuing publication as well.”Footnote 31 (Later decisions, including those from federal appellate courts,Footnote 32 have indeed held publishers liable for information that they obtained unlawfully, although the issue remains open at the Supreme Court.)
The second wrinkle was that the word “seldom” in the Daily Mail Publishing quote – that “state action to punish the publication of truthful information seldom can satisfy constitutional standards” – seemed an important limitation in Bartnicki. In other words, the Bartnicki Court could have chosen language that was more sweepingly protective of news, for example, by declaring that state action to punish the publication of truthful information can never satisfy constitutional standards. But it did not. Instead, the justices in the Bartnicki majority wrote that the outcome could well be different in cases involving different facts, such as those in which there had been the revelation of non-newsworthy “domestic gossip or other information of purely private concern.”Footnote 33 Moreover, the justices in Bartnicki noted that the Court had, over time and in the sorts of decisions that included Cox Broadcasting,Footnote 34 repeatedly refused “to answer categorically whether truthful publication may ever be punished consistent with the First Amendment.”Footnote 35 Quoting Florida Star v. B.J.F.,Footnote 36 the Court wrote that “the future may bring scenarios which counsels our not resolving anticipatorily” this “ultimate question,” because of the “sensitivity and significance of the interests presented between [the] First Amendment and privacy rights.”Footnote 37
The third wrinkle appeared in Bartnicki’s concurring and dissenting opinions. Justices Breyer and O’Connor in concurrence suggested that the Constitution tolerated certain privacy-protective laws because of the right of privacy’s importance and called it an “interest[] of the highest order.”Footnote 38 They suggested too that even public figures retained some rights to “private communication,” especially in an age involving “challenges” that “technology may pose to the individual’s interest in basic personal privacy.”Footnote 39 And then they listed as among “truly private matters,” what they called “sexual relations” between two public figures that had been recorded.Footnote 40 In other words, a celebrity sex tape.
Three justices dissented in Bartnicki; they would have ruled against the radio station’s claimed First Amendment interests. They too were worried about the “significant privacy concerns” arising from technological advances that allowed others to access personal communications. “Even where the communications involve public figures,”Footnote 41 Justices Rehnquist, Scalia, and Thomas wrote, the conversations are nonetheless private and worthy of protection. That third wrinkle, therefore, means that in 2001 at least five of the justices on the Supreme Court would surely have sided with Hulk Hogan and against Gawker’s publication of the sex tape featuring him.
It also suggests that Bartnicki, although a 6-3 decision in favor of media, was ultimately a 5-4 decision against it – a decision against media’s own discretion to determine newsworthiness in situations that involve personal privacy. Just as Bartnicki itself suggested, this had been hinted at in a more nuanced reading of those earlier seemingly pro-publication decisions, including the word “seldom” in Daily Mail Publishing. “[T]here is a zone of privacy surrounding every individual,” the Court had written in Cox Broadcasting v. Cohn, for example, “a zone within which the State may protect him from intrusion by the press, with all its attendant publicity.”Footnote 42 And in Florida Star, the justices had written: “We do not hold that truthful publication is automatically constitutionally protected, or that there is no zone of personal privacy within which the State may protect the individual from intrusion by the press, or even that a State may never punish publication of the name of a victim of a sexual offense”Footnote 43 because there is “sensitivity and significance” in privacy interests that are just as profound as those inherent in press interests.
In other words, if anything, centuries of jurisprudence seemed to tip Hulk Hogan’s way.
18.3 The Legacy of Gawker’s Publication of Hulk Hogan’s Sex Tape
The pretrial litigation over Hulk Hogan’s sex tape was contentious. Gawker argued that the First Amendment protected its right to publish the tape as news, while Hogan claimed the explicitness of the tape violated his privacy. Although two preliminary court decisions found that any restriction on publishing the tape would be an unconstitutional prior restraint,Footnote 44 neither of these opinions addressed the graphic nature of the nudity and sexual intercourse. In fact, it was not clear whether the judges had even seen the video excerpts that Gawker published. In 2016, the case proceeded to a Florida jury.
At trial, jurors heard the Gawker reporter who wrote the post admit that there was no news value in the graphic nudity shown in the tape,Footnote 45 and thereafter they decided that Gawker should pay Hogan $140 million, an astonishing amount that ultimately drove Gawker to bankruptcy. The case settled for $31 million, but even that sum was large enough to create quite a stir in the plaintiffs’ bar. The Washington Post suggested that there was a new disorder, which it called “Hulk Hogan Syndrome” that was suddenly afflicting plaintiffs who’d been wronged by media, leading to these plaintiffs and their attorneys “winning big.”Footnote 46 The headline theorized that such verdicts might well reflect hostility toward more modern publishers.
Since then, various courts have decided other cases in ways suggesting that Hulk Hogan Syndrome is real and that judges also might have it. Put another way, modern court decisions show that judges are both worried about privacy interests and fed up with the breadth of the newsworthiness defense – and, in turn, they have pivoted to positions that disfavor publishers. In 2022, for example, the federal district court for Oregon decided that a famous author’s stepdaughter had a valid claim against her stepfather’s biographer who had described in rather graphic terms the sexual abuse she had suffered at the hands of her birth father.Footnote 47 The Supreme Court of Indiana in 2023 decided that a patient’s diagnosis and prescribed treatment were private information; the publisher had mistakenly received the information meant for another and had posted it to Facebook.Footnote 48 And, in 2023, a federal district court in Indiana held that Netflix producers who had shared on social media the identities of people conceived by a prolific sperm donor as part of a promotional campaign for a documentary could be liable for invasion of privacy.Footnote 49
But, notably, in each of those examples – just as in the Hulk Hogan case – it is not clear whether any of those publishers should be considered journalists or whether those truthful publications should be considered journalism. It’s possible to argue that such labels are appropriate in each, of course: that the biographer and the Facebook poster and the Netflix producers were all journalists and that each bit of truth that they published was news. But looking at those decisions from the ethics provisions that often inform journalists’ decisions regarding what is appropriately published and what isn’t – what newsworthiness means in a journalistic sense – the labels “journalist” and “news” are not at all clear. Many journalists, I would think, would say these decisions to publish were utterly inappropriate given the facts. And these, in part, are the reasons that judges who once deferred to the judgments of publishers of truth are less likely to do so today. Perhaps the greatest worry in all of this is that such decisions can now affect what might be considered “real” journalists, those in legacy journalism who might well decide after sincere newsroom introspection that a more graphic description of sexual abuse on different facts was appropriate to a news story, or that an individual’s medical diagnosis was newsworthy, or that the precise names of people involved in something that had news value was an important part of the story. It is not going too far to suggest here that journalists like those who worked and continue to work in my old newsrooms can be chilled by such outcomes that involve people who published truth under very different standards.
This modern pushback against the broad invocation of newsworthiness in privacy cases can help inform discussions about who or what qualifies as press for constitutional purposes too. If law has created deferential carveouts for journalism over the years on the assumption that the journalistic entities would be operating within professional ethics strictures that decided questions of newsworthiness in a way that balanced important social norms and interests, what happens to those carveouts when those assumptions are no longer true? And how might this backlash against the actions of fringe actors who are eager to justify their behaviors as newsworthy lead to scalebacks that remove constitutionally valuable protections from those who are actually performing the press function?
It seems clear that a more sacrosanct approach to terms like “press” and “news” would ultimately benefit the whole – that more exclusive definitions would help protect the publishers that matter most. Privacy’s history teaches that lesson. And a $140-million-dollar jury verdict is surely a very big lesson too.
In journalism education, the First Amendment’s guarantee of press freedom is typically taught as a cornerstone of American democracy. Yet this approach too often fails to grapple with the historical and ongoing realities of racial inequality and the experiences of marginalized communities, particularly Black Americans, in relation to press freedom. The traditional emphasis on teaching journalists to be strictly “objective” often leads the press to report in ways that perpetuate the status quo and fail to hold those in power accountable.
The prevailing standards in journalism education, moreover, tend to give educators conflicting directives. Taken at face value, these standards seem to encourage journalism educators to teach the First Amendment as a neutral principle that protects press freedom and encourages journalists to strive for objectivity and balance in their reporting. However, the standards also tell educators to emphasize the profession’s multicultural history and to promote communication that empowers and centers the voices of marginalized communities – an approach that might require journalists to take a more active stance on issues of social justice. Recent debates over “journalistic objectivity” on issues of Black protest, editorial witnessing, and journalistic authority during the Movement for Black Lives have illustrated how these principles can clash with each other in newsrooms.
In this chapter, I argue for a critical reexamination of how the First Amendment and press freedom are taught in journalism classrooms. I draw on historical analysis, legal case studies, and contemporary examples to advocate for a “reparative journalism” approach. By centering the voices and experiences of those who have been systematically excluded from the full protections of the First Amendment and by interrogating the complex relationship between race, power, and the press, this approach seeks to develop a more inclusive, historically grounded, and forward-looking vision of journalism’s role in society. Ultimately, this chapter contends that reckoning with the racial dynamics of press freedom is essential, not only for journalism education but also for the practice of journalism itself, as a means of fulfilling its democratic purpose and holding power to account.
19.1 What Is Reparative Journalism?
Two hundred fifty years of slavery. Ninety years of Jim Crow. Sixty years of separate but equal. Thirty-five years of racist housing policy. Until we reckon with our compounding moral debts, America will never be whole.
Scholars have extensively written about and debated the merits of reparations in a number of countries and contexts. Coates’ 2014 essay, “The Case for Reparations,” brought the conversation out of scholarly and legislative domains and planted it more firmly into public discourse. Decades of reports on the topic have attempted to quantify the impact of stolen wages and physical and psychological assaults on Black families, but most attempts to map the complicity of systems that have normalized Black subjugation focus on the obvious players of education, government, labor, law, medicine, and property ownership.Footnote 2 Media, particularly the news media, binds all of these together. As we read and listen to news reports, we develop a sense of our shared social reality, an understanding of who we are and how the world works. So influential is the news media that the founders of the Black press in the United States used their very first editorial in 1827 to condemn other publishers for their role in positioning Black people as deviant and irredeemable.Footnote 3 More than 150 years later, the Kerner Commission, tasked with identifying the cause of race riots in inner cities throughout the country, also implicated the news media for its failure to present a full and accurate picture of what Black life was like and warned that should our social systems continue down the same path, we would move toward “two Americas, one Black and one White, separate and unequal.”Footnote 4 The compounding moral debt that Coates spoke of has quietly accumulated in journalism and journalism education as well. In the years before, during, and after World War II, the practice moved from one of vocation to occupation, professionalized through the creation of post-secondary degree programs that were generally exclusive to white males. The country’s oldest journalism program, the University of Missouri, repeatedly denied Lucile Bluford, a Black woman, entry to its graduate program.Footnote 5 The school went so far as to temporarily shutter the program (ostensibly because of the demands on students and faculty being called to serve in World War II) and to create a separate program at Lincoln University in order to maintain segregation.Footnote 6
From antebellum days to the Civil Rights Movement and beyond, newspaper publishers used their platforms to fix Black people as subhuman in the American imagination. Pre-Emancipation-era papers bankrolled themselves by selling slave ads.Footnote 7 Outlets such as the Raleigh News & Observer and the Wilmington Morning Star incited race riots to silence the Black press.Footnote 8 News editors refused to hire and promote Black staffers, only reluctantly moving to do so after being publicly shamed by the Association of Newspaper Editors in the 1970s. Until 2019, the Associated Press Stylebook, considered the “Journalist’s Bible,” lacked guidance on identifying and naming racism and racists.Footnote 9 The addition of the entry was prompted by the largest racial justice movement in American history.Footnote 10 If there is an American institution thought to contribute to democratic ideals while directly denying Black people and other marginalized folks equal treatment, it is journalism. If there is an American institution in need of a commitment to reparative work with Black communities, it is journalism. For the purpose of this chapter, I focus on Pablo de Greiff’s articulationFootnote 11 of three goals that define the concepts of reparations: recognition of harms, restoration of civic trust, and the development of social solidarity. Reparative journalism education must first admit how and where our pedagogies and practices have contributed to harm. It must focus on strategies for restoring civic trust by identifying places where we have caused this segment of the public to rightfully doubt our commitment to equity. And we must use the classroom as a space to model a nonexclusive understanding of how journalists and members of the public outside of the newsroom must share in a right to free expression as a means of building solidarity.
As a point of disambiguation, note that the concept of reparative journalism should not be conflated with media reparations, the economic program advanced by policy coalition Media 2070.Footnote 12 Reparative journalism is a complement and refers to a set of educational and vocational values, norms, and practices iteratively applied to address the wounds from prior eras while building a responsible apparatus for the social construction of news in the twenty-first century. The framework demands recognition of the foundational flaws in the construction of American social systems, with a central focus on the impact of anti-Black racial hierarchy as reflected in the adoption of chattel slavery, the imposition of Jim Crow and segregation, and the retrenchment of white supremacy as normative in contemporary culture. Thus, this chapter sets forth the operationalization of a particular educational practice: teaching the First Amendment in the twenty-first century with a commitment to recognizing how and where it intersects with anti-Black racism.
The organizing principle of reparative journalism is that social institutions that shape the construction of reality in the United States must directly confront how the legacy of slavery has shaped the institution’s norms, customs, and values and resituate its practices by centering the perspectives of the vulnerable. In practice, this means acknowledging the presence and influence of racial discrimination in journalism. For instance, our contemporary news media workforce, which has for decades struggled to attract, retain, and promote non-white journalists, is characterized by the exclusion of Black students in journalism schools (and, more broadly, most institutions of higher learning) during the period in which the journalism evolved from a vocation to a profession.Footnote 13
I articulated its core commitments in 2020:
Reparative journalism must be visionary, rather than reactionary.
Reparative journalism must be grounded in the history of the ignored.
Reparative journalism must be critically intentional.
Reparative journalism must be comprehensive.
Reparative journalism requires alternative funding and production models.
Reparative journalism requires the redistribution of power.
Reparative journalism will require an unfathomable commitment of time – more than any of us may have in this life.Footnote 14
If news media creators – from student journalists working in campus media to veterans working on investigative stories and features – were to adhere to these commitments, it would shift news narratives from their focus on political and social elites and move the plight of marginalized people into the center. A vision of reparative journalism is one that covers the political economy of poverty from the perspective of those who live it rather than the policymakers who decide how their lives unfold. The framework requires that such reporting be grounded in history. Thus, it would begin by working backward through the federal, state, and local reforms and customs that have created nearly intractable inequalities in our society.
The Accrediting Council for Education in Journalism and Mass Communication (ACEJMC), formed in 1945, is the largest accrediting body for journalism programs in the United States. To date, 120 programs have some level of accreditation through the organization.Footnote 15 Although ACEJMC does not prescribe particular curriculum or pedagogical approaches, it sets forth several criteria for evaluating the rigor of programs. The first three criteria are stated here as a clear articulation of a schema for understanding why critical examination and reinterpretation of the First Amendment are necessary for contemporary journalism education. Alongside eight other core competencies, graduates of ACEJMC programs should have the ability to:
apply the principles and laws of freedom of speech and press, in a global context, and for the country in which the institution that invites ACEJMC is located;
demonstrate an understanding of the multicultural history and role of professionals and institutions in shaping communications;
demonstrate culturally proficient communication that empowers those traditionally disenfranchised in society, especially as grounded in race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, and ability, domestically and globally, across communication and media contexts.Footnote 16
A purposive search and brief review of syllabi from media law, media ethics, and related courses that satisfy the First Amendment criteria from ACEJMC-accredited schools reflects a pattern in the literature assigned and modules taught about the First Amendment, including the Speech and Press Clauses. A journalism law and ethics class at a mid-size public university in the Northeast is described as “a foundation course in personal freedom and professional protection” that will equip students to “understand the foundation for freedom of expression” and link judicial values to “the work of mass media professionals and the free expression of citizens.”Footnote 17 Another course from a large public university in the Southeast “analyzes media policies and practices with respect to their political and practical generation, Constitutional foundation, ethical enactment and social impact, including such topics as government regulation of the media, the influence of pressure groups, media influence, and libel and privacy laws.”Footnote 18 A third course, Media Law and Ethics, at a large private university on the West Coast vows “students will learn about their legal rights and obligations” and that the course will teach them “how to publish information without violating defamation and invasion of privacy, how to gather information to avoid legal and/or ethical trouble and how to deal with subpoenas …” with a goal of “keep[ing] you and your employer out of trouble.”Footnote 19 The common theme among the syllabi is clear: The First Amendment is being taught as a tangible license of rights and responsibility with an emphasis on market risks and demands. The descriptions rest on key assumptions about the First Amendment and its application: that this law confers legible power to the journalism profession and extends an egalitarian privilege to the masses; that all enjoy these privileges equally; and, foundationally, that the intention of the law was entered into the historical ledger under an expression of collective sentiment. That is, that commitment to pluralist democracy, as articulated in the preamble to the Constitution, was developed from a place of altruism and justice for all.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
In the examples that follow, I encourage educators to teach about the abolitionist press as the first real challenge of the First Amendment and to connect the threat of abolition in the pre-Civil War era to contemporary threats to First Amendment freedoms. I then use the foundational New York Times Co. v. Sullivan case to illustrate how traditional journalism education erases critical insight into how First Amendment law was weaponized in attempts to silence Black liberation workers. I close with a brief provocation of how contemporary conceptions of who is a journalist, and thus protected by the First Amendment, have implications for anyone who bears witness to civil rights violations and publishes them in the social media age.
19.2 Press Freedom, Abolitionism, and the First Reconstruction
Reparative journalism education must first acknowledge the potential for harm in our failure to critically interrogate the development and application of the First Amendment in a historical context. Students of the First Amendment must first develop a basic understanding that the rights guaranteed by the Constitution did not legally apply to anyone other than white men until the ratification of the Thirteenth, Fourteenth, Fifteenth, and later the Nineteenth Amendments. Some courses addressing the First Amendment note that its robust protections for speech were not fully established by the Supreme Court until the mid-twentieth century, as the Court gradually came to recognize the importance of protecting dissenting views, including those of Communists and antiwar activists.
Thus, a consideration of the dire, dangerous conditions in which early Black publishers worked would further enrich students’ understanding of the complicated history of the incomplete protections of the First Amendment. Periodicals including Freedom’s Journal, The Colored American, The North Star, and The People’s Advocate risked physical safety and economic ruin to provide Black communities with news and information in the service of racial uplift as a means of uplifting a nation and the nation.Footnote 20 Abolitionist allies such as Elijah Lovejoy – who was eventually martyred for the cause – were run out of town, their presses repeatedly destroyed.Footnote 21 Black writers, like David Walker, were subject to bounties for violating Black codes by encouraging the formerly enslaved to fight for their freedoms.Footnote 22 The early existence of the Black press highlighted tensions between the existence of the First Amendment and its practical accessibility for non-whites.
William M. Carter Jr.’s work on the First Amendment and the ratification of the Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Fifteenth Amendments – the Second Founding – offers a framework ripe for exploration by historians, journalism scholars, and journalism educators committed to researching and teaching critical perspectives on press freedom.Footnote 23 As Carter writes, the question of the abolitionist press presented one of the earliest tests of the nation’s commitment to free speech and press freedom in the pre-Civil War era:
The Sedition Act of 1798 sparked the nation’s first sustained controversy regarding the First Amendment’s guarantee of freedom of speech. The national controversy over slavery presented the second such major free speech moment. Legislators and judges, public intellectuals, the popular press, and ordinary citizens discussed and debated whether abolitionist speech represented such a danger that it could be suppressed consistent with state and national guarantees of free speech.Footnote 24
Revisiting and focusing on press freedom and the Second Founding as part of our pedagogy on the First Amendment would require students to engage with centuries-old assumptions about institutional and personal freedoms and rights that have proven ephemeral in recent years. Recent Supreme Court decisions have radically changed the scope of various constitutional rights that were long thought inviolable.Footnote 25 How should our understanding of press freedom, and its defense, change in an era when it is no longer inconceivable that a court may rescind rights without warning? How secure is our ongoing ability to access the full promise of the First Amendment, especially when current legal challenges threaten to plunge us back into states’ rights doctrines? What might a more judicially limited grant of press freedom mean for the publication of journalism that is out of favor with the ruling class, including journalism that is community-run or self-published? How might all of this change how students conceive of the role of the journalist in the future?
A classroom discussion on these questions might draw upon the tradition of Cone’s Black Liberation Theology, where one’s “heart, mind, body, and soul are where the dispossessed are.”Footnote 26 Students might be invited to see how the journalist shares a sense of precarity with Black people in America: the ever-present threat of dispossession. This commonality is a point of invitation to consider the First Amendment from the vantage point of Black journalists and, more specifically, Black people in America. This sense of positionality moves our consideration beyond mere acceptance of the First Amendment and requires an interrogation of its development and application, including how it is taught.
19.3 New York Times Co. v. Sullivan: The First Amendment and the Second Reconstruction
No course on media law, media ethics, or the First Amendment is complete without a mention of New York Times Co. v. Sullivan, the Supreme Court case that clarified the watchdog function of the press.Footnote 27 Most who have taken a course about free expression could probably recall with little effort that the case sets forth a high bar for holding publishers liable for defamation and perhaps even define what “actual malice” is without having to look it up. They might even be able to recall that Birmingham Police Commissioner L. B. Sullivan sued the paper over an ad, claiming the text portrayed him in an unflattering light. But what often goes unmentioned in the journalism classroom is the racialized nature of the case.
Beneath the text of “Heed Their Rising Voices,” the advertisement placed by the Committee to Defend Martin Luther King and the Struggle for Freedom in the South in The New York Times on March 29, 1960, were the names of activists, celebrities, and clergy members seeking moral and financial support for Committee to Defend Martin Luther King and the Struggle for Freedom in the South.Footnote 28 The Revs. Ralph Abernathy, Joseph Lowery, Solomon S. Seay, and Fred L. Shuttlesworth’s names were listed among the signatories of the statement, although the ministers testified in court that they were added by Bayard Rustin without their knowledge or consent.Footnote 29
Sullivan sued The Times and the ministers and was initially granted a $500,000 judgment (about $5.25 million in 2024 dollars).Footnote 30 The lawsuit was part of a repertoire of suppressive actions designed to curb the reach of communications that shed light on the struggles for integration in the South. At the time, news organizations, including The Times, faced civil suits that numbered in the millions of dollars, as powerful segregationists and their allies attempted to leverage market forces to silence the national press coverage by bankrupting them.Footnote 31 But if the target were simply the news outlets themselves, why name four ministers?
Scholars Samantha BarbasFootnote 32 and Aimee EdmondsonFootnote 33 have both written extensively about the racial and socioeconomic implications of the Sullivan case for the four Alabama ministers who were named as co-defendants with The Times but whose experiences are often lost to history. Resituating Sullivan from a reparative journalism standpoint requires educators to consider the impact of the case and its outcomes on the most vulnerable individuals and groups involved. While the libel suit brought against The Times was part of a larger strategy designed to bankrupt news organizations in the North, their corporate structures delayed and shielded them from economic and social harms in ways that left individuals unprotected. As Barbas writes, by 1964, national news organizations were confronting more than $288 million in damages from libel suits brought by segregationists.Footnote 34 But in between Sullivan’s initial decision in an Alabama courtroom and the Supreme Court ruling, The Times’ co-defendants’ personal property was seized as an outcome of being convicted of libel.Footnote 35
The ministers’ inclusion was both a matter of legal maneuvering – necessary to keep the lawsuit in Alabama’s jurisdiction – and an indication of how the law can be weaponized to suppress the speech of marginalized Others. Considering Sullivan through this lens is not only valuable for offering a more complete history of the case’s circumstances and significance in the Civil Rights era but also for studying the parallels between that moment and the present political era.
A reparative approach to teaching media law prompts us to map various modes and loci of power in Sullivan. Jennifer Brandel explains multiple considerations for power-mapping exercises.Footnote 36 We might consider historical and contemporary forms of power: the channels, flow, and means of justifying power, and classic definitions of hard or soft power – that is, the binary of force versus enticement. “What if every news story, no matter the form, helped people understand the foundational and systemic structures that are keeping things as is, creating conflict, or enabling new power to flow and, therefore, create new realities?” Brandel asks.Footnote 37 Reparative journalism encourages an expansion of the question such that racial hierarchies and the practices of domination that enforce them are considered part of this power analysis. Thus, teaching on the case would encourage students to abandon so-called color-blind thinking and consider why Sullivan named not only The New York Times as the injurious party in the lawsuit but also four other Alabamans known to be at the forefront of the antisegregation movement.Footnote 38 A recognition of power beyond the scope of the free press in this case would prepare students to anticipate strategies of domination that use the law and other levers of control to compound oppression. Ideally, this lens would encourage news workers to investigate similar contemporary legal, statutory, and executive actions for what they are – a means of fixing historically marginalized and comparatively subjugated peoples to new forms of oppression and control.
Discussing Sullivan in this context also invites consideration of the protections and resources available to the corporate press that do not extend to the individual, a useful framework for thinking about current debates over who qualifies as a journalist and what infrastructure must be in place for them to enjoy press protections. These questions should direct our attention to news workers and publishers who do not enjoy the protections of permanent employment with a corporate news organization. We might consider how press freedom differs for a media startup versus a legacy publication or for a staff writer versus a freelancer. What short- and long-term material risks do individuals outside of traditional news media structures face when they engage in advocacy as part of their First Amendment rights? Each of the ministers’ vehicles was seized and sold by the state of Alabama, with the intention of not only causing financial hardship but also creating obstacles to their participation in racial justice work.Footnote 39 Ultimately, Shuttlesworth and Lowery would leave the state of Alabama and pursue their work elsewhere.Footnote 40
A power analysis of the motivations, techniques, and function of social values and institutions involved in the Sullivan case will help underscore that the decision to bring the suit was not simply a matter of Sullivan attempting to defend his reputation but an attempt by segregationists and sympathizers to intimidate civil rights activists into silence by wounding or chilling the press. Threats to press freedom often emerge first as threats to the most vulnerable in society. Thus, the implications of the case have enduring relevance for those who struggle against authoritarian regimes, be they informed by racism, nationalism, theism, or other organizing themes.
19.4 The Complex Relationship between Journalism and Social Change
Mainstream journalists and publishers often position press freedom, and the act of engaging in journalism, as vital to democracy and portray the press as part of the vanguard of movements for social change. In this telling, journalists work tirelessly to fulfill two proverbial goals: to “give voice to the voiceless” and to “speak truth to power.”Footnote 41
A reparative journalism approach to teaching about press freedom would critically examine this depiction of the press, its work, and its successes. Again, a consideration of the history of race and journalism in the United States would provide a useful frame. Scholars have shown that only within the last two decades have news organizations begun to seriously examine and acknowledge their amplification of narratives that fixed Black people at the bottom of the country’s racial hierarchy.Footnote 42 The fantasy of being “a voice for the voiceless” extends to the position journalists imagined they have taken with respect to freedoms for those included in aforementioned groups as well.Footnote 43 But as John Nerone noted in an essay about journalism’s hegemonic crisis, news workers reshaped their collective orientation to the ideal of racial equality only after political elites began to understand and respond to its implications for the future of electoral politics.
Journalism’s hegemony in the domain of news has a relationship within the hegemonic order in the larger society, in other words. The example of the Civil Rights movement is the best available case in US history that journalism can challenge the hegemonic order, but even in that case the decisive nature of journalism’s intervention is unclear. Granted, by the 1960s national news organizations had overwhelmingly come to embrace a post-segregationist order, but this was only after the national political parties had changed their positions in response both to a mass popular movement among African-Americans, a Supreme Court-led change in the judicial order, and a new calculation of electoral realities that showed the possibility of winning national power while slighting southern white dead-enders. But granting the Civil Rights movement exceptional status, it remains an exception that proves the rule. In the normal run of modern history, journalism’s hegemony over news has worked to support the general hegemonic order. The people and interests who run things did so more effectively because journalism made it seem natural.Footnote 44
In order to propel our students toward a reparative journalism consideration of the First Amendment, we must consider the enduring impact of racial subjugation within the country’s institutions, including the Fourth Estate. We must also interrogate how effectively journalists have historically “spoken truth to power,” as opposed to supporting existing systems, as Nerone noted.
The concept of “fearless speech,” introduced by Mary Anne Franks, provides a framework for the latter discussion.Footnote 45 In a 2018 essay, Franks draws upon Michel Foucault’s articulation of the Greek concept of parrhesia, or fearless speech, and his argument that it emphasizes candor, mortal risk, and a commitment to the social duty of truth-telling above all that might be gained from engaging in more flattering or complementary speech. Contemporarily, fearless speech is that which refuses to exchange the ability to win favor and influence others (which seems to be the currency of the twenty-first century) for the responsibility of upholding unflinching truths. We may, perhaps, find examples of fearless speech in difficult spaces, such as confronting the realities of surveillance, war, and genocide in Gaza. We may also find examples of fearless speech in journalism, but asking students to consider the response of institutions – including media organizations – to the fearless speech of individual journalists offers a fruitful path for discussion.
The contestation over journalistic works such as Nikole Hannah Jones’ reporting on the re-segregation of US public schools via school choice, charter schools, and redistricting policies is an example of fearless journalistic speech that confronts structural oppression.Footnote 46 The 1619 Project, an in-depth narrative exploration of the indelible effect of chattel slavery on multiple American institutions, might similarly be deemed an example of fearless speech.Footnote 47 The project, designed to contest hegemonic and unchallenged narratives about American history, was met with censorial response by lawmakers at the federal and state levels. In July 2020, Senator Tom Cotton (R-Ark.) filed S.4292, the “Saving American History Act,” during the 116th Congressional Session, which would have expressly prohibited elementary and secondary schools from teaching the project’s curriculum under threat of withdrawn federal funding.Footnote 48 The bill’s text was echoed in bills introduced in Arkansas, Iowa, and Mississippi in 2021.Footnote 49 Had Cotton’s bill passed and been signed into law, schools would have been forced to consider the cost of engaging with the curriculum, as the restrictions demanded that no school that taught 1619 content receive federal funding for professional development.Footnote 50 Additionally, the bill would have required that the secretaries of agriculture, education, and health and human services create a formula to prorate decreased federal funding for any school that implemented the curriculum.Footnote 51 These measures could arguably have had a “chilling effect” on the speech of teachers, students, and support staff, pushing them to err on the side of caution and reject the curriculum outright rather than risk the loss of a school’s federal funding.Footnote 52 According to the National Center for Education Statistics, US public school districts received anywhere from 5 percent to 20 percent of their annual revenue from federal sources as of 2021.Footnote 53
In keeping with a reparative journalism framework, educators would also consider the political and social context of threats against fearless speech, such as the proposed bans on the 1619 Project curriculum. Each of these measures was introduced during a period in which federal and state governments were considering legislation to ban teaching antiracism and critical race theory (CRT).Footnote 54 The CRT Forward Project, housed at UCLA Law School’s Critical Race Studies Center, tracked more than 560 government-related measures of this sort.Footnote 55 The documents range from carefully worded executive orders, including one signed by President Trump in September 2020 that outlawed the teaching of “divisive concepts”Footnote 56 on race and gender; to state-level legislation, such as the Stop WOKE ActFootnote 57 signed into law by Florida Governor Ron DeSantis in April 2022; to district policies, such as the Temecula Valley Unified School District’s anti-CRT resolution approved in December 2022.Footnote 58
Considering the rules and guidelines that are applied within institutions to manage media employees provides another useful starting point for a discussion of the meaning of fearless speech in journalism. Such examples include the perennial conflicts around student journalism, including administrative budget cuts that restrict funding and ultimately impact the ability of student journalists to do their work.Footnote 59 In 2018, for instance, the student government association at Wichita State University cut the student newspaper’s budget by two-thirds following reporting on the university administration’s business affairs.Footnote 60 Similar cuts were aimed specifically at student journalists’ salaries in 2007 when the student legislature slashed The Missouri Miner’s budget at the University of Missouri at Rolla.Footnote 61 The Student Press Law Center has designated such actions as Red Flags, highlighting the ways in which budget cuts may amount to censorship if undertaken disproportionately and in response to coverage.Footnote 62
The reactive media codes of conduct that police and silence journalists are another point of entry for operationalizing fearless speech. On matters of journalism ethics and public critique of issues, educators could point to the examples of The New York Times writers Jazmine Hughes and Jaime Keiles, who were forced to resign after signing a protest letter about Palestinian genocide in Gaza.Footnote 63 Arguments, of course, will be made about the appropriateness of allocating university funding to support student media or about requiring journalists to adhere to an organization’s code of conduct, but both serve the same function: They are disciplinary measures that manufacture the illusion of the journalists’ consent to self-censor under penalty of material expulsion from the organization. Certainly, journalists who wish to engage in conduct that counters the cultural demands of an organization, be it a university’s journalism program or a corporate newsroom, are free to do their work elsewhere. But the inability to “stand on business” while maintaining one’s professional standing and having equal access to resources exposes the charade of free speech as we’ve conceived it vis-à-vis the First Amendment.
A discussion of fearless journalistic speech might also ask students to critically examine the different levels of protection enjoyed by the press as opposed to “citizen journalists,” even in cases where the First Amendment rights are theoretically the same. This discussion might invite students to consider the different levels of risk incurred by those engaging in fearless speech. For example, the right to record police activity in public spaces has been widely recognized by courts as a right shared by everyone, not only the press. And in the past decade, two incidents of police brutality that sparked nationwide protests and debate were initially recorded and shared not by professional journalists but by individuals recording on their smartphones: Ramsey Orta, who filmed the NYPD officers who put Eric Garner in a stranglehold that killed him, and Darnella Frazier, whose recording of George Floyd’s police murder sparked some of the largest protests ever seen in the United States. In both cases, their First Amendment right to record the incident was clearly protected by law. But in both cases, the resulting attention upended their lives, made them fear for their safety, and made them potential targets for retaliation by police.Footnote 64 (Classroom instructors might also consider linking these examples back to the Sullivan case and its consequences for the four Alabaman civil rights activists named as defendants.)
19.5 Conclusion
The interpersonal domain of oppression prompts us to consider how we teach journalists to conceive of themselves and their roles in the field. The notion of a fearless speech orientation acknowledges warnings that the First Amendment rests on an ephemeral foundation. For if we were to reconceptualize our responsibilities as journalists from the perspective of those who, by their own expression, would benefit from having their messages amplified and, at times, clarified by our profession, we would move toward recognition that there are few truly voiceless individuals in our society and that the pursuit of broad press protections, rather than those limited to a specific professional class/designation, is in our collective best interest. It follows that people from structurally marginalized social positions are among those who need protection the most. The rest of society will undoubtedly benefit.
Knowledge institutions play a critical role in maintaining constitutional and democratic guardrails, encouraging the pursuit of reliable knowledge, providing the public with accurate information, and fostering informed debate about office-holders, candidates, and public policies. For this reason, authoritarian leaders often attack knowledge institutions (alongside other common targets like political opponents, and independent government bodies) in efforts to consolidate power, suppress dissenting voices, and control public narratives.Footnote 1 Among the key, often-targeted knowledge institutions are a free truth-seeking press and independent universities.
Knowledge institutions are public and private entities that have a central purpose of pursuing knowledge – creating, disseminating, and preserving it.Footnote 2 They include universities, libraries, museums, the press, government offices charged with collecting and reporting data, and independent research institutes. As organized entities with continuity over time, they pass on to new generations their cultures of knowledge-seeking and verification. Knowledge institutions and their active members seek to apply standards of a wide range of intellectual disciplines, differing across fields and institutions. They aspire to apply these standards autonomously, not to reach results tailored to satisfy government or business preferences, but with independence according to the professional norms of their field and institution.Footnote 3
As institutions, they offer protection to knowledge-related values that go beyond those secured by individual freedoms of expression. They do so for several reasons, described at length in my earlier work. First, such institutions help define, in ways no individual can, the best disciplinary tools and practices oriented to discovering or verifying knowledge. Second, institutions transmit cultures of knowledge-seeking across generations – again, in ways that individuals by themselves cannot. Third, institutions provide “focal points”Footnote 4 for organizing around the protection of those individual freedoms so essential to the free inquiry on which searches for better truths are founded. Fourth, institutions have legal and financial resources that can be deployed to help protect the knowledge-seeking efforts of their members. Finally, institutions, on the whole, have stronger functional and normative claims than individuals do to act with authority as intermediaries in an ocean of information and misinformation.
In recent years, however, the authority of the press and universities as knowledge institutions has increasingly come under scrutiny – and not just from rising populists. Critics are asking questions such as: Are these institutions genuinely devoted to producing and disseminating knowledge, or are they primarily focused on protecting and aggrandizing their own reputations or economic interests? Is the press overly fixated on sensationalism and short-term news coverage at the expense of deeper and more substantive reporting? Are universities too preoccupied with maintaining “politically correct” stances to be trusted to perform their knowledge-seeking roles and to maintain a free and open campus environment for all students? Can these knowledge institutions truly claim independence from the powerful forces that control so much of society? Are the ethical norms they espouse admirable or despicable? Are their ethical norms sufficiently adhered to in practice to warrant their continued recognition as guiding principles of the press and universities?
This chapter sketches some tentative responses to these questions. It considers how the press and universities are similar as knowledge institutions and how they differ. It explores the nature of journalistic and academic topics and judgments, their independence in the pursuit of knowledge, the time frames of their work, and their ethics. It aims to draw attention to how these two institutions use overlapping but not identical tools to develop shared knowledge and test knowledge claims, and how sustaining the independent competencies necessary towards this goal is challenged by rising polarization and mistrust and by diminishing public and private financial support. I close with some reflections on the relationships among knowledge institutions and why the interdependent infrastructure of knowledge institutions matters so much to constitutional democracy.
Constitutional democracies are not necessarily self-sustaining. They must safeguard the independence and integrity of elections, government structures, and knowledge institutions, including universities and the free press. Doing so requires honest assessment of their strengths and weaknesses, adequate funding for their central tasks, and appropriate degrees of institutional autonomy to preserve the reliability of their knowledge functions.
20.1 Professional Judgment in Pursuit of Genuine Knowledge
Constitutional democracies depend on knowledge to sustain their governments. Whether conceptualized as the need for competence,Footnote 5 expertise,Footnote 6 or effectiveness,Footnote 7 governments depend on the development of shared conceptions of reliable knowledge. Knowledge institutions, including academia and the press, play key roles in the development of this shared knowledge.Footnote 8
Ideally, both the institutional press and higher education institutions seek to protect the exercise of professional judgment by those who do knowledge work within them. For the press, the core knowledge work is done by journalists (including reporters and editors).Footnote 9 For academia, the core knowledge work is done by individual faculty members, sometimes alone, sometimes working with others, and subject to the more indirect and less collaborative constraints of peer review and evaluation.
For the press, a classic concept of the editorial process embraces the active involvement of editors as internal checks throughout the entire news production cycle. In serious press organs, the relationship between editors and reporters (and other kinds of journalists) is collaborative. It often begins with the selection of which stories to pursue, continues with discussions about when stories are sufficiently established by the facts, and ends with editing of the final article. Editors can be an integral part of the process of reporting a story at many junctures, reflecting a degree of joint venturing between reporters and editors as allies in the development and production of news stories.
The growth of new outlets for reporting through social media sites and blogs may pose a challenge to the continued viability of the model of editors who act as internal intermediaries checking what journalists write and reinforcing disciplinary norms of good investigative journalism.Footnote 10 Yet, the idea of internal checks remains an important aspect of contemporary journalism. The most respected newer journalism sites, such as ProPublica,Footnote 11 as well as “legacy” organs, continue to rely on editors to protect the integrity of their journalistic process, though empirical work on the extent of this practice remains to be done.
In academia, such partnerships between editors and researchers in developing scholarly works are less common than in journalism. Editors of scholarly journals or books may sometimes – but need not – play a role similar to news editors in deciding what themes or subjects authors should pursue. Some invited scholarly collections or journal symposia, for example, are framed by the scholarly editors’ careful guidance on what topics different chapters should seek to cover. But many scholarly books are conceived entirely by their authors and are submitted to a publisher only after they are complete or well set on course. The checks of peer review are thus both less sustained and more independent than those of an editor in a journalistic institution working with reporters.Footnote 12
In contrast to journalism’s collaborative editorial process, academia relies on peer review in assessing quality both in granting tenure and, for journals, in deciding whether to accept articles for publication. Although the specific practices vary across disciplines, peer review is a key part of academia’s decisional processes.Footnote 13 The review process for publication in a peer-reviewed journal may be quite substantive and contribute materially to improving the published work. (Publication in peer-reviewed journals is important in many academic fields; a possible exception, however, is the field of law in the United States, where prestigious reviews are often edited by students, not peer-reviewed.) Publication-specific peer review is part of the academic process of knowledge production; it operates in a more arm’s-length manner than the process of editors checking journalists’ work.
While a faculty mentor may feel some sense of engagement with junior faculty, it would be unusual for that relationship to be seen by either party as the kind of alliance journalists often share with an editor. Faculty members may be able to obtain additional peer feedback and critique from workshopping their papers or sending them out for critical comment from colleagues, which can be an important and helpful part of the scholarly process. But the relationship is not that between an editor and a reporter. Other faculty members offering feedback (rather than as part of a peer review process) do not operate as gatekeepers to the publication of academic work in the same way a traditional news editor could be a gatekeeper to journalists’ work. However, some scholars do work in very large collaborative groups on work having many coauthors; this surely provides opportunities for review and checking, although it also raises predictable temptations for individual contributors to focus only on the aspects of the work to which they directly contributed, rather than on the entire project.
The comparisons between how the institutions of academia and journalism create knowledge raise a number of questions warranting further consideration. For example, does the insulation of much academic work, as compared to the ongoing (theoretical) relationship of reporters and editors, have any implications for their knowledge-producing roles? Or, is what matters the overall cluster of opportunities for checking and incentives for accurate work? Are there more such opportunities for checking and incentives for accuracy in academia, given its longer time frame for production and extended period during which critiques, modifications, and even retractions can occur? Or are there more such opportunities in journalism, where a wider readership may be quick to point out flaws or questions?Footnote 14 Alternatively, is what matters more the commitment of participants to truth-seeking modes of work? How significant is the presence of legal and practical protections for the independence of the overall process – in journalism, for reporting and editing, in academia, for researching, writing, teaching, and publishing of scholarship?
Both news media and academic journals have suffered embarrassing and very public failures of their truth-checking processes in recent years.Footnote 15 Academia has sought to develop measures to prevent systemic problems in reliability.Footnote 16 The declining numbers of journalists and immense financial pressures faced by news organizations of all sizes may inhibit devoting more resources to improving accuracy, yet some journalists, academics, and organizations engage in regular critiques of what they see as flawed journalism.Footnote 17 Ideological commitments may impair, or be seen to impair, an institution’s willingness to adhere to truth-seeking practices, including open inquiry.Footnote 18
These are human institutions, and failures at some levels are to be expected. These failures should be critiqued when they result from deviations from truth-seeking norms and corrected going forward. My point, for now, is that each type of institution employs distinctive mechanisms designed to sort good, accurate reporting from bad, unreliable reporting or good, reliable scholarship from bad, unreliable scholarship. Each knowledge institution has internal mechanisms designed both to reinforce the goal of accuracy at the outset and to provide checks when that goal is not met. At a time when both institutions face serious threats, attention to these mechanisms is of particular importance.
20.2 Independence and the Ideal of Objectivity in the Application of Professional Judgment
Biased precommitments are antithetical to the aspirations for objectivity, impartiality, or fairness associated with good scholarship and good journalistic reporting.Footnote 19 Even opinion journalism, which may be quite partisan or advocacy-oriented, should rely on a reasonable factual basis.Footnote 20 The search for genuine knowledge must be conducted independently of commercial or governmental interests in predetermined answers.
For most reputable journalists and academics, their perceived and actual independence – including from powerful influences of friends, family, business, or government – is an important element of professional self-understanding.Footnote 21 Press and academic institutions deploy various methods, some overlapping, some distinctive, to protect that independence.
Some academics enjoy “tenure,” that is, a guarantee of their position absent extraordinary justification for removal. Tenure is believed to contribute to the desired independence of thinking, research, writing, and teaching. Yet increasingly, teaching loads at colleges and universities are filled by nontenure track faculty, many of whom are part-time workers with relatively little job security or bargaining power.Footnote 22 Many journalists likewise work without any institutional guarantees of tenure or even long-term contracts in an increasingly shrinking part of the economy. Even without tenure protections, though, other factors may help sustain commitments to journalistic independence. These include working as part of a team, collaborating with an editor, and operating in a journalistic culture that values independence and accuracy of reporting.
Job tenure is not the only source of independence. Ethical norms in academia also insist on intellectual independence and integrity. The first principle in the American Association of University Professors’s (AAUP) Statement of Professional Ethics provides that professors’ “primary responsibility … is to seek and to state the truth as they see it … [and] practice intellectual honesty,” while not allowing “subsidiary interests” to “seriously hamper or compromise their freedom of inquiry.”Footnote 23 The ethos of objectivity or impartiality in professional judgment remains an important aspect of both academia and professional journalism, and it may be as dependent on institutional cultures as it is on structural protections of job security.Footnote 24 Institutional cultures in academia and journalism nurture norms about what it means to value accuracy, knowledge, and independent judgment.
The New York Times’ Ethical Journalism handbook, for example, discusses several situations of apparent conflicts of interest that might threaten “the impartiality and neutrality of The Times and the integrity of its report.”Footnote 25 It prohibits accepting “free or discounted lodging and transportation except where special circumstances give little or no choice” and includes a sample letter to return gifts, along with a policy forbidding acceptance of all but “trinkets of minor value.”Footnote 26 The Times also forbids accepting “anything that could be construed as a payment for favorable coverage or as an inducement to alter or forgo unfavorable coverage.”Footnote 27
Similarly motivated rules appear elsewhere in news organs and associations. The Guardian’s Editorial Code of Practice and Guidance requires news staff to disclose financial interests that might “create the impression of a conflict of interest,”Footnote 28 prohibits journalists from holding public office,Footnote 29 and substantially limits the receipt of “freebies.”Footnote 30 The Global Charter of Ethics for Journalists likewise provides for the avoidance of conflicts of interests by journalists and asserts that the “right of the public to truth is the first duty of the journalist.”Footnote 31 (The contrast here with the alleged conduct of the tabloid National Enquirer in paying to “kill” a news story and keep it from the public is obvious.Footnote 32)
Some traditional news media have reflected their concern for independence by separating the reporting divisions from the business divisions – a separation that has come under strain in recent years as the economic challenges for legacy news media have increased.Footnote 33 For example, The New York Times forbids consultation between the news and business division, except when advertising needs are “directly related to the business of the news department;” the Times also limits and regulates (rather than prohibits) information exchange between the news and advertising departments.Footnote 34 Such consultations can play a critical role in helping news media navigate great economic challenges and maintain enough financial viability to be able to report independently on the news.Footnote 35 Yet if a particular story is shown to have been “pulled” or held back because of political or economic influence, it reflects badly on the press organ’s reputation.Footnote 36
Academia faces similar concerns about conflicts, although it handles them differently. In the last decades of the twentieth century, commercial and governmental collaborations in university-based research increased substantially, creating heightened opportunities for conflicts of interest.Footnote 37 Universities have developed policies and structures to help manage these new relationships, including technology transfer offices and offices of sponsored programs.Footnote 38 These programs can involve policies that, in contrast to general academic norms of openness, permit researchers to withhold their findings, for example, to allow time for patenting. In some fields, individual faculty members may develop separate consulting businesses related to research work patented by the university, which complicates their roles as members of the academic community.Footnote 39 In these respects, scholars may be much more financially involved with outside influences than are journalists.
Universities and press organizations increasingly adopt conflict of interest policies designed to prevent – or at least disclose – influences that might undermine the independence of professional judgment. At some news media companies, policies limit involvement between journalists and the subjects they are writing about, and editors may reassign reporters if involvements create the appearance of partiality.Footnote 40 In academia, the scholar herself may be the primary judge of whether her work presents conflicts of interest.Footnote 41 And in some fields of research, such as anthropology, the role of participant observation as a research method is relatively well-established. While news media may tightly control what other entities their reporters can work for (for example, prohibiting freelance work for competitorsFootnote 42), academics – especially in the sciences – frequently collaborate with faculty at other institutions. Competition among journalistic media is the norm; academia can be very competitive, but there are also major areas of collaborative work. Scholarly journals increasingly require a statement either disclaiming or disclosing potential conflicts of interest, and many universities have policies requiring disclosure of potential conflicts of interest.Footnote 43 Disclosure is no panacea,Footnote 44 but it is a recognition of the importance of upholding ethical norms of independent judgment.
Both journalists and academics may be influenced in their choice of research or writing topic by incentives from outside and within their institutions. In academia, the interests of leading journals, or the availability of grants, may influence scholars’ topics of inquiry. Some academics may choose topics regarded as easier to publish on, in the interest of obtaining tenure or other academic benefits. Grants are more likely to be available for novel findings (at least in some scientific fields), which may influence the incentives of the researcher – discouraging replication studies, for example, despite their importance for the continued verification of initial results. In law, there are “popular” topics in which student editors (who play an important role in the US scholarly legal literature) or even academic editors are deemed more likely to have an interest.
In the press, the increased conjoining of business with reporting concerns reflects the reality that the press (whether traditional legacy press or new blogs or websites that want to be viewed as impartial news sources) must attract sufficient audience share to sustain themselves. Publishers care, as they usually have, about net revenue; reporters care about how many followers they have on Twitter or Facebook. Thus, financial and popular incentives may influence reporters in what kinds of topics they pursue, as may the ideological commitments of their employer. (This raises the question of whether stronger norms of impartiality and independence exist in what is reported in a story than in the selection of what topics to pursue or report on.Footnote 45)
While the ideal of independence is important, it is unsurprising that neither academic research nor news reporting, as human institutions in a world of finite resources and attention, are conducted based only on the abstract importance of the subject or the internal interests of the researcher. For the press, the combined, related pressures of current popular interest, the role of clickbait and unseen algorithms, and financial sustainability (which may favor what those who are advantaged in society are interested in) may play a larger day-to-day role on topic choice than in parts of academia. For academics, the rise of untenured faculty in the US may threaten both the time and the independence faculty have for research. Yet journalists and academics retain considerable freedom on what topics to write on. The aspiration for independence of judgment in what is reported or what is written remains an important distinguishing feature of both. A major challenge for years to come is how to sustain both forms of independence as they face pressures from economic change, political controversies, and unusually virulent attacks.
20.3 Time, Resources, and the Nature of Knowledge Development
The different time scales of journalism and academia influence the kind of topics and the depth of coverage that academic and journalistic work produce. Universities – major ones, at least – will provide a depth of knowledge-related resources in libraries, access to scholarly databases, scientific equipment, and the collective presence of scholarly experts in many fields. Press organizations are likely to be quite differently and perhaps more thinly resourced, but journalists may be able to more readily gain access to information from current officeholders than academics.
Daily or even weekly journalists report on sudden, unexpected eventsFootnote 46 and look for “scoops” – that is, important newsworthy developments that have not been discovered or reported by others. This task is becoming more challenging given the widespread public sharing of breaking news on social media, including reporting by noninstitutional reporters. Professional journalists who develop networks of reliable information providers are still able to produce such scoops, especially in areas in which information is tightly controlled and not accessible to casual observers.Footnote 47 Daily reporters, moreover, regularly work against very tight deadlines. Even feature reporters for newspapers and magazines may be working on deadlines related to the topicality of their subjects. Investigative journalists may work on a time frame of months pursuing a story in depth – but if they are associated with news media, typically not years, as many academics may spend on a single book or article.
Academics face different time pressures than do members of news media. As noted above, writing even a single good article for publication in an academic journal can take months or even years; academic books can take even longer. Moreover, most faculty in the United States also have teaching responsibilities; devoting time to good teaching means that most faculty usually cannot devote their work life exclusively to research.Footnote 48 Untenured academics who are hoping for tenure face definite time pressures to produce published scholarship before tenure consideration; in systems with regular review of all faculty, pressures to show regular research publications continue throughout an academic career. Junior faculty and those outside the United States with competitively ranked systems based on regular review of faculty publications have serious incentives to frequently produce scholarship that is placed in well-rated journals.Footnote 49
It continues to be the case that academic life allows more time for reading and reflection than most journalism positions do. Yet commentators have expressed concerns about the prioritizing of quantity over quality in articles in academia. Professors in highly competitive fields are facing increased pressure to produce more papers in shorter time periods, although this is not the same type of time pressure as is faced by journalists who work under daily deadlines. Academic time scales allow – or, in some cases, requireFootnote 50 – more time for deep research, reflection, and multiple drafts in ways that journalism often does not. This gives rise to an expectation of fewer errors in academic work than in daily journalism. Nonetheless, although the time pressures differ, they exist in both fields.
The analytical tasks that can be expected of academic work and journalism also differ, though there are areas of overlap. Some areas of academic inquiry, such as in the physical sciences, are simply beyond the capacities of those who do not have a quality lab to work in. Some areas of academic inquiry are not sufficiently contemporary, or take too long to research, to be possible (or of interest) for journalists.
The press is better situated than academia to quickly produce daily or weekly reporting and in-depth investigations that are published close in time to the events being investigated. Unlike academics, press outlets typically do not have processes that can delay, sometimes by many months, even being able to start interviewing sources.Footnote 51 Yet the search for the popular (or sensational) does not always correspond with what is important to public well-being; commercial incentives may be at war with reporting that informs citizens about events relating to government policy. The topicality that news media see – reporting on current developments in government in regulation, in politics, and in events and trends affecting people’s daily lives – is wide, but under these pressures, still limited.
In contrast, the choice of topics for academic research in universities is quite broad and not constrained by subjects of current topical interest. Classicists pore over ancient texts in languages no longer spoken; archeologists explore understandings of peoples and societies’ lives from the past; historians pursue improved understandings of different periods of history of different peoples and countries around the world; physicists seek to improve understanding of the smallest particles in the universe and the largest distances between objects in the universe; biologists and chemists work to improve understandings of processes of physical change. Scholars can pursue research into more lasting forms of knowledge than journalists, deepening or challenging existing understandings in philosophy, history, literature, and art, or testing the continued validity of scientific beliefs or mathematical propositions and developing new ones. Sometimes these avenues of research yield interesting perspectives on current topics, but often they do not, yet they contribute to the development of valuable human knowledge by engaging with the world and existing understandings in an epistemically open and (hopefully) rigorous way.
In areas of overlapping interests, which may arise in fields of social sciences, scholars may be better – in part because they have more time – at developing and testing theoretical explanations for phenomena, periodizing large amounts of historical data, and more generally identifying patterns across time and societies. Journalism, on the other hand, is superior to most academic work in its currency, which can provide raw material for historians and other academics by offering a daily diffusion of new information on contemporary life, government, elections, candidates for and incumbents in public office, emerging problems, conflicts, and trends. Journalism also continues to provide a forum for curated public discussion through letters to the editor and opinion pieces, a feature not so available with respect to academic work. Occasionally, journalism has also risen to provide astonishingly deep levels of research requiring immense collaboration in the acquisition and presentation of data, as exemplified by The New York Times’ daily charts on the COVID pandemic.Footnote 52
The time constraints and substantive work of journalists and academics share some characteristics but also differ in important ways. Do journalists chase stories that have little long-term value but appeal to currently popular obsessions? Do academics pursue topics of interest only to a small number of other academics, or, alternatively, write in “safe” or “politically correct” well-ploughed veins? Yes, all of these occur, as well as more concerning conduct.
Yet, both academics and journalists regularly produce highly valuable reports, discoveries, and analyses, which may inform the public of major problems with government or business (often being concealed by those who benefit from them) or offer the kind of medical discoveries that have extended life spans dramatically. History suggests that only free and open fields of inquiry – that will inevitably include some low-value or mistaken research and reporting – will produce these and other such valuable results. Increased awareness of these benefits, increased attention to the resources needed to sustain knowledge institutions, and constructive critique to help institutions improve their own work will benefit both knowledge institutions and the constitutional democracies to which they are so important.
20.4 Ethical Constraints Supported by Professional or Related Organizations
Books about universities tout these organizations’ importance to advances in science, cross-cultural knowledge, competitiveness (in business and more generally), amelioration of poverty, and government policy or public administration.Footnote 53 Some also emphasize their contributions to democracy more generally and to social equality.Footnote 54 Books about the press tout its importance to civic knowledge, communication among readers, “watchdogging” those in positions of (private or public) power, and holding them to account.Footnote 55 Yet these books do not as often claim that the press facilitates effective government or business competitiveness, even though some of the origins of the European press in newsletters concerning commercially valuable information plainly existed to serve business interestsFootnote 56 and even though there is a long linkage between the press and government functions (and a link between local “news deserts” and corruption).Footnote 57 Notably, writers do not call on the press to develop innovations that enable better business practice or governance, while they do assign this task to universities. The ethos of the press as independent and as reporting on rather than “making” the news would resist such instrumentalization. Consequently, a quite different ethos animates academia and journalism.
Despite this and other differences, both journalism and academia have commitments to pursuing genuine knowledge, and both have developed ethical principles, which may be reinforced by standards of conduct adopted by specific institutions (that is, specific newspapers or universities). The ethical standards of both entities include an emphasis on transparency, accuracy, and truth-seeking. I have discussed the ethical, truth-seeking, and information-verification norms of the press in earlier writing.Footnote 58 Below I discuss academic ethics.
The AAUP Statement on Professional Ethics asserts, as a basic obligation of faculty: “Their primary responsibility to their subject is to seek and to state the truth as they see it … They accept the obligation to exercise critical self-discipline and judgment in using, extending and transmitting knowledge. They practice intellectual honesty.”Footnote 59 In succeeding paragraphs, the statement addresses obligations to students, colleagues, the institution, and their community.Footnote 60
Discrete disciplinary associations of faculty across universities often reflect on the ethics of scholarship in their fields. For example, the publishing arm of the American Institute of Physics sets technical precepts for authors, including the expectation that “results of research should be recorded and maintained in a form that allows analysis and review, both by collaborators before publication and by other scientists for a reasonable period after publication.”Footnote 61 The Institute also establishes norms, including that “fabrication of data is an egregious departure from the expected norms of scientific conduct, as is the selective reporting of data with the intent to mislead or deceive, as well as the theft of data or research results from others.”Footnote 62 Similarly, in the humanities, the American Historical Association says that while historians have much they disagree on, they all agree on some precepts: “All historians believe in honoring the integrity of the historical record. They do not fabricate evidence. Forgery and fraud violate the most basic foundations on which historians construct their interpretations of the past.”Footnote 63
Some ethical norms differ between journalists and academics. Journalists typically name their sources, and they generally contend that the sources a reporter relies on for a story should only be kept confidential in special circumstances. In contrast, social scientists who do survey research are expected to take measures to maintain the confidentiality of their survey respondents. For both reporters and academics, the obligation to protect the confidentiality of a source once a promise of confidentiality has been given may raise conflicting moral and legal obligations.Footnote 64 On occasion, journalists have gone to jail rather than comply with a subpoena and reveal an anonymous source without the source’s consent. Some condemn those journalists for obstructing justice, while others hail them as heroes. Most US states provide some protection for journalists from forced disclosure of confidential sources. Although similar protection for academics is less well established, they have sought it on similar grounds and on occasion been successful.Footnote 65 As many state journalist-shield laws recognize, sometimes confidentiality assurances are the only way to verify and get an important story of government or private malfeasance out to the public.
The aggressive critique that follows public disclosure of departures from ethical standards suggests the continued relevance of these norms in both journalism and academia. There are too many such departures. But they attract controversy and critique – through which norms of honest, truth-oriented work can be upheld.
20.5 Knowledge Institutions’ Interdependence and Constitutional Democracy
The shared aspiration of journalism and academia to honesty and to “extending … knowledge”Footnote 66 is reflected in their intellectual interdependence. In earlier work, I have provided examples of how the press, universities, and government offices that collect and provide data draw from one another’s work and are, in a sense, parts of an interdependent epistemic infrastructure; the press may play an important role in circulating new ideas from academia.Footnote 67 However, the interdependence of knowledge institutions goes beyond these kinds of instances of direct utilization by one kind of institution of the work of another. Historically, increases in education and literacy helped promote press readership.Footnote 68 More generally, knowledge institutions can play a role of supporting overarching values that benefit society and government in constitutional democracies – of “truth, science, morality and arts in general,” as the Continental Congress proclaimed about the role of the press in 1774,Footnote 69 and the ideals of disciplined truth-seeking searches for better knowledge.
These overarching values include a commitment to rationality in decision-making. This commitment, in turn, requires that people have skills of critical inquiry and understanding, including skills in evaluating evidence that bears on important public questions. These values also include the importance of public knowledge of government – not just knowledge of what the institutions are but understanding of how government actually works – appreciating the need for trade-offs in desired ends, for example, or developing an ability to distinguish abuses of power from ordinary disagreements. For these tasks, President Washington and many other US presidents thought a national university was required.Footnote 70 The national universities that exist today, created through more decentralized mechanisms, continue to be urged to consider whether they are providing the education that participants in our constitutional democracy need.Footnote 71
From the earliest days, the press has been viewed as playing a central role in serving as a watchdog that could criticize government officials, providing a forum for letters and opinions from a range of readers, and promoting public knowledge of government. A postal subsidy for newspapers was provided in the 1792 Act establishing the postal service.Footnote 72 Even earlier, in September 1789, the very first Congress mandated the secretary of state to receive all enacted laws and to assure their publication in “at least three public newspapers.”Footnote 73
Finally, these knowledge institutions and others together help promote the idea that the truth, or truths, or better understandings of the world, are worth pursuing. Without the idea that there is knowledge – that at any given time, there are better (more accurate) and worse (less accurate) understandings of facts and trends, physical and social processes and causes; and that study, reason, and consideration of evidence can help arrive at ever better understandings – it is almost impossible to find a shared epistemic space for democratic self-governance. There are also necessarily uncertainties in the real pursuit of knowledge, which both universities and journalists can help us understand. But trying to have a democracy without some shared basis for establishing what is, at least contingently, accepted as usable knowledge is almost impossible to imagine.
Whether the press or universities will retain their current institutional and economic forms is a serious question.Footnote 74 The press, in particular, has undergone a dramatic economic and professional shift over the last two decades; governments in recent years have “disinvested” in public universities; and public trust in both news media and universities has declined markedly.Footnote 75 But the functions these institutions serve – of attempting honestly and accurately to report on daily events and attempting honestly and accurately to understand the human and natural world in all its manifestations – are essential to good societies. In helping to hold governments accountable, they are of particular importance to constitutional democracies, where decisions by an informed citizenry are at the theoretical foundation of the legitimacy of the state.
For many years, press freedom advocates have seen law enforcement as a threat to journalism’s autonomy and independence. But the nature of that threat is changing. In the past, press freedom concerns typically centered on the risk that law enforcement might compel or coerce journalists to become unwilling participants in prosecutions and investigations of third parties. Statutory, constitutional, and regulatory interventions have been developed in response to stave off that possibility. Yet those protections, while still meaningful, do not address the potential criminal liability that reporters face in gathering and reporting the news. Today, the prospect of journalists facing arrest and prosecution is not as far-fetched as it might once have seemed.
Consider a few representative incidents. In December 2017, prosecutors charged citizen journalist Priscilla Villarreal with violating Texas’ prohibition on “misuse of official information” after she got a tip from a Laredo police officer.Footnote 1 In March 2019, San Francisco police searched freelance journalist Bryan Carmody’s home and office, confiscating his devices, as they investigated who had leaked information about the sudden death of Public Defender Jeff Adachi.Footnote 2 In December 2021, sheriff’s deputies arrested citizen journalist Justin Pulliam as he recorded a mental health check outside Houston.Footnote 3 In August 2023, police raided the newsroom and the home of the publisher of the Marion County Record, a local newspaper that was investigating a business owner’s application for a liquor license.Footnote 4
There are two competing ways of seeing these kinds of episodes. In the first vision, these kinds of occurrences are affronts to press freedom and show that press-specific legal protections are necessary to blunt law enforcement’s ability to target and harass the media. Faced with the question of how best to protect journalism and a free press, many scholars have zeroed in on what is sometimes called “press exceptionalism,” calling for special protections for the press against generally applicable laws. Special protections constitute “targeted statutory and constitutional protection of the press functions.”Footnote 5 A basic premise of press exceptionalism is that, although the press faces particular challenges in exercising its constitutional rights, it is treated the same as an ordinary individual or business.Footnote 6
In the second vision, these incidents are disturbing examples of widespread dysfunction in law enforcement. Broad and vague laws are commonplace, overcriminalization runs rampant, and law enforcement enjoys substantial discretion in how to investigate, deter, and prevent crime.Footnote 7 Although the press may have particular complaints about these dynamics, these are not problems unique to the press. Perhaps these incidents underscore the unique and disproportionate effects of criminal charges and investigations on the press. But they also illustrate the fundamental inability of distinctive legal protections to shield the media from law enforcement activity that is, for a large number of Americans, simply expected and routine.Footnote 8
As with all ailments, how we diagnose the problem will shape how we think about the right treatment. If the problem is press specific, then the law should address these challenges by treating the press differently, perhaps by conferring special advantages or relieving general burdens, enabling the press to engage in its constitutionally recognized functions in ways that it currently cannot. If the press’s woes are symptomatic of a more systemic problem in law enforcement, however, then the press ought to prioritize limiting law enforcement’s power and discretion in ways that would benefit the press alongside many others as well.
This chapter reflects on the limitations of press exceptionalism. In my view, even if press-specific interventions are valuable in other domains, they are unlikely to be effective remedies for most law enforcement activities that target the press. My reasons for pessimism have more to do with criminal law and procedure than with free expression. Because criminal law is so broad, many routine newsgathering activities might run afoul of any number of state and federal statutes.Footnote 9 Reporters might also be accused of soliciting unlawful disclosures or aiding sources who violate substantive criminal laws.Footnote 10 Even where law enforcement may not intend to pursue charges against a journalist, the existence of broad criminal liability enables police and prosecutors to evade procedural restrictions on investigations of the press.
Press-specific protections are not well matched to these law-enforcement dynamics. Even the strongest procedural defenses for the press are likely to falter in the face of substantive law that criminalizes the acts that constitute newsgathering. Press-specific status rules are also hard for law enforcement to administer on the fly. And experience has shown that existing remedies do little to disincentivize unconstitutional conduct by law enforcement agencies. Furthermore, and perhaps most important of all, a model of protection that relies on the press to litigate its rights on a case-by-case basis is almost by definition ill-suited to systemic law enforcement dysfunction.
Even assuming that special press protections are valuable, they also have significant, underappreciated costs. Enabling the press to claim special legal status may entrench distrust of press actors. Recognizing special press rights to be free of surveillance and monitoring, for example, can help to consolidate and legitimate law enforcement’s substantial power to surveil and monitor everybody else. In the name of creating legal certainty and stability for newsgatherers, conferring special rights on the press also invites a different form of instability and uncertainty as decision-makers determine what terms like “newsgathering” and “press” mean. At least with respect to law enforcement – the focus of this chapter – press-specific protections are at best only mildly helpful and at worst counterproductive. The protections the press really needs are the same general safeguards against government overreach and broad law-enforcement discretion that all speakers should enjoy, not specific rules narrowly focused on the press.
The rest of the chapter proceeds in three main sections. First, I trace the existing protections for journalism – and those that are absent – to make the case that the press is relatively unprotected from law enforcement. Second, I argue that special protections are ill-equipped to solve systemic law enforcement problems. Finally, I point to some paths for the press to take a more aggressive role in reshaping law enforcement without using special protections to do so.
21.1 The Current Landscape
Many scholars have identified problems for press freedom that arise out of criminal law and procedure. Historically, a particular concern for the press was that it might be dragged into investigations or prosecutions of its sources because it possessed information obtained in confidence that was evidence of criminality.Footnote 11 As a result, and in response to the lack of constitutional protection, a variety of statutory and regulatory constraints have developed to shield the press from being made to comply with these sorts of demands.
21.1.1 Press-Specific Protections
Many of the extant press-specific protections in state and federal law sprung up in the aftermath of the Supreme Court’s decisions in Branzburg v. Hayes and Zurcher v. Stanford Daily, two germinal cases involving attempts to seek evidence in the possession of the press for use in prosecutions of third parties. In Branzburg, the Supreme Court held that the First Amendment does not confer an unqualified reporter’s privilege that would prevent a journalist from being compelled to reveal the identity of their source before a grand jury. Branzburg prompted Congress to introduce dozens of shield bills, none of which were ultimately enacted.Footnote 12 Branzburg also stimulated state legislation: Before Branzburg was decided, seventeen states had enacted shield laws recognizing some version of a reporter’s privilege.Footnote 13 Today, according to the Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press, forty states have shield statutes, and eight more have recognized a reporter’s privilege grounded either in common law or the state constitution.Footnote 14 In addition, a federal shield bill, the PRESS Act, was reintroduced in 2023; I return to that bill below.
In Stanford Daily, the Supreme Court upheld the constitutionality of a newsroom search and seizure conducted after police obtained a search warrant based on probable cause. In response to the Stanford Daily decision, Congress enacted the Privacy Protection Act of 1980, which typically bars law enforcement from searching journalists’ work product and documentary materials using a search warrant and requires them to use a subpoena instead.Footnote 15 Similarly, Department of Justice (DOJ) guidelines impose additional requirements when law enforcement uses compulsory process to seek information from or relating to the news media.Footnote 16
These statutory and regulatory protections are particularly important because journalists and press institutions often have information that is relevant to criminal and national security investigations. The threat of subpoenas and other compulsory process can deter sources from coming forward and otherwise chill reporting.Footnote 17 In other words, it is precisely the press’s performance of its checking and watchdog functions that makes it an appealing target of compulsory process, and the threat of compulsory process is an effective way of managing the press’s reporting and “silencing political dissent.”Footnote 18
Of particular relevance here, legal protections can mean that law enforcement agencies treat journalists differently than other individuals, shielding them from certain law enforcement methods and demands. Criminal procedure is replete with examples of this kind of differential treatment. If law enforcement has probable cause to believe that evidence of a crime is present in someone’s office, they can ordinarily obtain a warrant to search the premises.Footnote 19 But if law enforcement wants to search a newsroom, it is barred by federal law from getting a warrant.Footnote 20 If law enforcement wants to subpoena an individual’s cell phone or email records from a third-party communications provider, it can ordinarily do so without notice to the individual.Footnote 21 But if the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) wants to subpoena a journalist’s records, it must give the journalist notice and an opportunity to be heard.Footnote 22 If prosecutors want to call someone to testify before a grand jury, they are ordinarily entitled to “every man’s evidence.”Footnote 23 But if prosecutors want to call a journalist to testify, they must comply with state shield laws governing how they do so.Footnote 24
21.1.2 Substantive Criminal Law
The special protections I outlined above limit law enforcement’s ability to coerce the press to participate in investigations of others. What about when criminal law enforcement targets the press itself? Press-specific protections play a smaller and less robust role than we might expect in limiting law enforcement abuses. With few exceptions, press freedom laws are procedural rather than substantive. They tell us what kinds of rules law enforcement must abide by when they interact with the press. Surprisingly, however, there are many open questions about how criminal law can be used against the press.
Some things are clear: For decades, it has been plain that the government must meet an exceptionally high bar in order to prevent the press from publishing even highly classified information.Footnote 25 Likewise, a similar, “exceedingly stringent” standard must be satisfied to justify criminal prosecution for the publication of “truthful materials of public concern.”Footnote 26 These demanding standards limit government action against all speakers, not only press actors. On the other hand, the First Amendment affords “few, if any, protections” to sources who leak to the press.Footnote 27 This “mixed approach” generally confers substantial protection on the publishers of information, regardless of whether they are members of the press, and exceedingly limited protection on their sources.Footnote 28
The press’s potential criminal and civil liability for newsgathering activities is much murkier than its liability for publication. Indeed, the broad questions of whether and to what extent state and federal governments can choose to punish or constrain newsgathering activities are largely unresolved. First Amendment doctrine has long held that “generally applicable laws do not offend the First Amendment simply because their enforcement against the press has incidental effects on its ability to gather and report the news.”Footnote 29 If a law can generally be enforced against an ordinary speaker, it can also be enforced against the press.
To a limited extent, special protections prevent law enforcement from interfering with newsgathering. Special protections for the press might confer particular rights on journalists, such as when a press pass enables a journalist to attend a meeting or a hearing from which the general public is excluded. Special protections might also relieve reporters from generally applicable burdens, like when a curfew order contains an exemption permitting journalists to stay out when the general public must be off the streets.Footnote 30 However, these protections are typically local, piecemeal, and haphazard.
Criminal law, by and large, contains no exceptions for journalists or reporters. This explains why, in recent years, journalists have been arrested in droves while covering widespread protests and unrest.Footnote 31 In response to uprisings against police injustice, lawmakers in states across the country have also undertaken a new drive to criminalize protest and immunize private violence against protestors, endangering journalists still further.Footnote 32
Other lingering questions concern potential liability for publishing information that was obtained unlawfully. While “news gathering is not without its First Amendment protections,”Footnote 33 it remains an open question “whether, in cases where information has been acquired unlawfully by a newspaper or by a source, government may ever punish not only the unlawful acquisition, but the ensuing publication as well.”Footnote 34 Meanwhile, the prosecution of Julian Assange continues to raise questions about the potential liability of press actors who might be complicit in violations of the Espionage Act or other federal or state laws.Footnote 35
Of course, this does not mean that there are no substantive First Amendment limits on criminal law. But proactive constitutional challenges appear to be more successful than post hoc assertions that arresting, prosecuting, or punishing journalism violates the First Amendment. For example, courts in several circuits have struck down so-called “ag gag” laws “aimed at stifling undercover investigations or whistleblowing” regarding animal welfare, environmental concerns, and working conditions.Footnote 36 Similarly, in upholding the material-support statute, the Supreme Court in Holder v. Humanitarian Law Project suggested that regulations of “independent speech” supporting terrorism or “material support” of domestic organizations would likely fail constitutional scrutiny.Footnote 37
The legal risks for newsgathering are real. Consider the classic example: the Espionage Act.Footnote 38 The Espionage Act makes it a crime to receive or disseminate national defense information “to any person not entitled to receive it.”Footnote 39 For decades, questions about potential criminal liability for news organizations that possess and publish classified information have plagued press institutions as well as scholars, advocates, and the courts.Footnote 40
To date, the government has largely refrained from charging journalists under the Espionage Act, with only rare exceptions. Historically, the Espionage Act has been chiefly enforced against those who leak defense information rather than against those who publish it.Footnote 41 The Espionage Act has been invoked to prosecute a third-party publisher of classified information only twice. In 1942, the United States attempted to prosecute the Chicago Tribune for publishing a story that revealed that the United States had “cracked a Japanese communications code,” but the grand jury did not indict the paper.Footnote 42 More recently, Julian Assange, the founder of Wikileaks, pleaded guilty to a charge under the Espionage Act in exchange for a sentence that permitted him to return to Australia without serving additional time in a United States prison.Footnote 43
The Espionage Act is far from the only statute under which prosecutors can charge journalists. Reporters covering protests are frequently charged with trespass or violating curfew or dispersal orders.Footnote 44 Journalists have also been charged for reporting on law enforcement under other state laws that criminalize obstruction or interference.Footnote 45
Consider, too, the case of Priscilla Villarreal, perhaps better known as “Lagordiloca.”Footnote 46 Villarreal is a citizen journalist from Laredo, Texas, where she “live-streams raw footage from local crime scenes – shootings, gruesome traffic accidents, tense hostage situations, immigration raids, and whatever else she comes across – to more than 80,000 loyal Facebook followers.”Footnote 47 In 2017, Villarreal was arrested and charged with “misuse of official information” after she texted a source inside the Laredo Police Department to corroborate the details of a Border Patrol worker’s suicide and a fatal car accident.Footnote 48 Under Texas criminal law, anyone who “solicits or receives from a public servant” nonpublic government information “with intent to obtain a benefit” is guilty of a felony.Footnote 49 Although a trial court found the statute under which Villarreal was charged unconstitutionally vague, Villarreal’s First Amendment suit ultimately foundered in the Fifth Circuit on qualified immunity grounds.Footnote 50 In October 2024, the United States Supreme Court vacated the Fifth Circuit’s decision and remanded the case for further consideration.Footnote 51
Complicating matters further, the threat of substantive criminal liability can also be used to circumvent heightened procedural requirements constraining how law enforcement obtains information from the press. Return to the Espionage Act: Although direct prosecutions of news media actors have been rare, leak prosecutions and investigations have soared.Footnote 52
Law enforcement can circumvent procedural limits on investigations by dangling substantive criminal charges for journalists. For example, in 2013, Fox News reporter James Rosen was named an unindicted co-conspirator in an indictment of a government leaker, enabling government investigators to “seize his e-mails to build their case against the suspected leaker.”Footnote 53 By naming Rosen as an unindicted co-conspirator, law enforcement could avoid the limitations imposed by the Privacy Protection Act of 1980, which made it unlawful for the government to search for or seize a journalist’s work product or documentary materials unless probable cause existed that the journalist “has committed or is committing the criminal offense to which the materials relate.”Footnote 54 Although Rosen was never charged, his emails were important to the investigation of the leaker, Stephen Jin-Woo Kim, who ultimately served time in federal prison.Footnote 55
Property laws can also be used to criminalize newsgathering and facilitate law enforcement searches that would otherwise be barred. In Bryan Carmody’s case, law enforcement was investigating a leak about the suspicious death of Jeff Adachi, the longtime San Francisco public defender. Carmody, a freelance reporter, had obtained the death investigation report from the San Francisco police. In applying for a search warrant for Carmody’s home and office, the police swore an affidavit that they were investigating state felony charges of receiving stolen property.Footnote 56
Collectively, these developments suggest that the dominant legal mechanisms for guaranteeing press freedom are not well equipped to address criminal law enforcement. This is in part, to be sure, because of legal uncertainty or indeterminacy. But as I describe below, the real problem is that special protections for the press simply are not effectively backstopped by substantive limits on law enforcement.
21.2 The Limits of Special Protections
Special protections such as shield laws and rules barring newsroom searches have operated somewhat well to protect press actors from being obligated to participate in criminal proceedings. To be sure, these protections do not function as well as many would like.Footnote 57 Indeed, the practical value of special protections is an open question, because they often fail to deliver on their promise. Calls for reaffirming the press’s special protections are often loudest when existing protections fall short.
But press advocates are too optimistic about the potential of extending special protections to meaningfully constrain law enforcement. Indeed, special protections are both structurally and substantively ill-suited to the problems posed by law enforcement entanglements with the press.
21.2.1 Practical Problems
Many of the proposals to limit law enforcement investigations of journalists are simply underinclusive. Start with the low-hanging fruit, the federal shield law. In 2023, Congress reintroduced a federal shield bill meant to prevent law enforcement from compelling journalists to reveal their sources.Footnote 58 The bill would have prevented federal law enforcement from compelling journalists to disclose “protected information” and from compelling third-party service providers to disclose journalists’ records.Footnote 59 Essentially, it would have codified the DOJ guidelines covering media subpoenas, limiting the possibility that future administrations could repeal or reverse those rules.Footnote 60 After incoming President Donald Trump urged congressional Republicans not to pass the bill, the PRESS Act died in the 188th Congress.Footnote 61
Even if the PRESS Act had not suffered the same fate that has befallen every other proposal for a federal shield law, it would have been wildly underinclusive. It overlooked the many other avenues that federal law enforcement has for acquiring and searching data: by purchasing records from private vendors, for example,Footnote 62 or by conducting searches of data that have already been acquired by other means, including through bulk national security surveillance.Footnote 63 Indeed, the FBI may and frequently does query data acquired under national security surveillance authorities for evidence of crimes without judicial oversight.Footnote 64
This is not a problem that one can solve with simple statutory fixes. There is a more profound mismatch between the mechanism of a federal shield bill and contemporary law enforcement practices. Tactics of proactive and preventive policing, coupled with new technologies of data acquisition, storage, and interpretation, “produce dramatically different ways of identifying suspects.”Footnote 65 These shifts in law enforcement techniques and technologies have produced new methods of investigation and identification that make traditional subpoenas and compulsory process less critical, although not entirely obsolete. The result is that much of the same information protected by shield laws is readily attainable by other means. The same problem animating the shield bill – the risk that compulsory process will lead sources and journalists to self-censor – also pervades bulk surveillance.Footnote 66
In an era of bulk surveillance, retail protections for individual journalists from targeted compulsory process remain important, but they simply don’t go far enough. The individualized protections offered by shield statutes do not, and cannot, address the shift in policing from reactive investigation of crime to models oriented toward proactive data acquisition, mining, and prevention.Footnote 67 Press-specific constitutional rights are not going to prevent the government from secretly acquiring and searching “vast stores of data about all of us, which they then can scrutinize whenever the fancy strikes them.”Footnote 68 For one thing, there is no process or opportunity for individuals to intervene to object to the government’s acquisition of information about them. In theory, legislation could require additional substantive or procedural standards to be met before the government could use data about or of the press, but, to date, restrictions on how lawfully acquired information can be used are rare.Footnote 69 In addition, the long-standing rule that the First Amendment is not offended as long as surveillance takes place in a manner consistent with the Fourth Amendment calls into question whether special rights would ever meaningfully constrain law enforcement’s acquisition and use of information.Footnote 70
More importantly, procedural protections such as the PRESS Act leave open law enforcement’s ability to investigate journalists for substantive criminal violations. The PRESS Act appears to constrain law enforcement’s ability to draw journalists into investigations of their sources, but because the avenues for substantive criminal liability remain quite broad, it may in fact create a perverse incentive to charge journalists directly as a way of avoiding the application of the special procedural rules that protect them. Journalists who publish government information are at risk of direct liability under a number of different statutes, including the Espionage Act, as well as the federal prohibition on receipt of stolen property.Footnote 71 The PRESS Act explicitly provides that it should not be construed to prevent law enforcement from investigating journalists who are “suspected of committing a crime.”Footnote 72 In this respect, the PRESS Act is actually weaker than the DOJ guidelines that it is meant to codify; those guidelines apply whenever a reporter is “acting within the scope of newsgathering,” defined to include the “receipt, possession, or publication” of information or the establishment of a way of receiving that information from a source.Footnote 73 In short, the DOJ guidelines explicitly provide that newsgathering is not a criminal act.Footnote 74
Similarly, the Privacy Protection Act of 1980 generally requires law enforcement to use a subpoena instead of a warrant to conduct a newsroom search.Footnote 75 However, the Act contains a complicated, nested series of exceptions providing that a government official may conduct a search if there is probable cause that the journalist “has committed or is committing the criminal offense to which the materials relate,” except if the offense is “receipt, possession, communication, or withholding” of the materials being sought.Footnote 76 In an exception to the exception to the exception, the government may use a search warrant if there is probable cause to believe that the journalist violated the Espionage Act, the Atomic Energy Act, or child pornography laws.Footnote 77
Even these exceptions may be underinclusive, however. Journalists may also face charges under theories of “third-party inchoate liability” for soliciting the disclosure of leaked information.Footnote 78 At the risk of repetition: The Privacy Protection Act does not apply to journalists who are charged with aiding and abetting or conspiring to violate the law. Procedural protections meant to prevent the state from using the press as a source of evidence in prosecutions of others do little to protect the press from opportunistic criminal prosecution. Instead, they simply submerge definitional questions about the scope of protection for newsgathering.
In this way, the PRESS Act highlights the problematic relationship between substance and process in criminal law enforcement. As William Stuntz noted almost thirty years ago, “[p]rocedural rules make broader criminal liability more attractive, since the latter can be used as a device for evading the costs of the former.”Footnote 79 Special procedural protections reduce the risk that high costs of criminal sanctions might be “imposed for no reason (i.e., on the whim of some government official) or for a bad reason (e.g., the defendant’s race or politics).”Footnote 80 In other words, Stuntz wrote, “[i]f the rights work, the specter of punishment for no reason or for evil reasons vanishes.”Footnote 81 But as Stuntz points out, procedural protections are not enough: Substantive law must also draw lines between those who “deserve punishment” and those who do not.Footnote 82
But substantive criminal law often sweeps incredibly broadly.Footnote 83 The prevalence of very broad laws, investigative power, and discretion calls into question the notion that the problem for press freedom is special rather than general. Perhaps the problem is different: Perhaps the underlying problem is that a powerful state, armed with nearly unfettered power to enforce the law in discretionary and discriminatory ways, may exercise that power against the press and against its critics. Even if and when it chooses not to do so, the threat of potential enforcement becomes a “sword of Damocles,” generating anxiety and potentially leading the press to pull its punches in response.Footnote 84
21.2.2 Doctrinal Problems
Special protections are of limited value, in part, because their enforcement almost always depends on press institutions and journalists to pursue litigation after the fact. Start with a basic premise that recognizing special rights and privileges for the press would “offer them reliable protection from prosecution,” deter government officials from searching and seizing journalists’ electronic devices, and otherwise shelter newsgathering from law enforcement meddling.Footnote 85 At bottom, the argument for special constitutional protections must hinge on the belief that recognizing rights under the Press Clause would create meaningful incentives for government actors to behave differently.
The problem is that the existing special protections that we have, although strong on paper, are not strong enough to prevent misconduct. Consider, again, the search of Bryan Carmody’s office. Both California law and the federal Privacy Protection Act prevent law enforcement from using search warrants to acquire journalists’ unpublished work product.Footnote 86 Yet that is precisely what the San Francisco police did in Carmody’s case. And once they did so, what was Carmody’s remedy? Though Carmody received a $369,000 settlement after the fact, the existence of precise, long-standing legal protections did not deter the police.Footnote 87 Similarly, the Marion County Record and some of its employees have filed lawsuits against city and police officials in Marion, Kansas, arguing that the newsroom searches there violated their First Amendment rights.Footnote 88
While prosecutors and judges might act differently in a world with more special protections, the incentives for police are unclear. A major doctrinal problem is that, in multiple areas of criminal procedure, Fourth Amendment standards for government conduct subsume First Amendment protections for free expression. Take searches and seizures, for example: In Stanford Daily, the Court held that the Fourth Amendment’s warrant requirement was sufficient to vindicate the First Amendment interests implicated by a newsroom search.Footnote 89 As Alex Abdo has observed, courts usually consider the constitutionality of government surveillance programs “primarily in Fourth Amendment terms.”Footnote 90 The result is that, for many law enforcement demands, the existence of probable cause that a crime has occurred defeats a First Amendment claim that a search or seizure is overly intrusive. Similarly, the existence of probable cause supporting arrest typically trumps a claim that law enforcement unlawfully retaliated against an individual, including a journalist, for exercising their First Amendment rights.Footnote 91 Because the substantive criminal law is so broad, probable cause will often exist.Footnote 92
A second problem relates to remedies. Ex post remedies are not particularly effective at deterring constitutional violations.Footnote 93 The key remedy for law enforcement conduct that is unconstitutional under the Fourth Amendment is the “widely reviled” exclusionary rule.Footnote 94 For many reasons, including because prosecutions of journalists are relatively rare, the exclusionary rule is unlikely to benefit the press. Civil rights lawsuits are also meant to deter police misconduct, but civil liability is difficult to come by. Qualified immunity shields from liability “all but the plainly incompetent or those who knowingly violate the law.”Footnote 95 Money damages are also unlikely to meaningfully deter misconduct: Direct sanctions are rare, officers are often indemnified, and violations that cause “psychic injury” as their primary harm are hard to monetize.Footnote 96 Meanwhile, there are also barriers to injunctive relief: In Los Angeles v. Lyons, the Supreme Court held that litigants lack standing to get prospective injunctive relief unless they can demonstrate a “real and immediate threat” of future unlawful conduct by police.Footnote 97
A third problem relates to the willingness of the press to litigate at all. In order for special protections to deter misconduct, the press would need to assert its newfound rights.Footnote 98 This is a familiar posture for press actors: In the past, press institutions have sometimes played the role of “legal instigators and enforcers” in both constitutional and statutory domains.Footnote 99 Indeed, the public’s constitutional right of access to government proceedings was developed in litigation brought by newspapers.Footnote 100 But the news industry is also sometimes unwilling to assert itself. In part, of course, this is because shrinking budgets make costly litigation a luxury good.Footnote 101 In part, too, news industry participants are sometimes unwilling to litigate because the professional devotion to objectivity in journalism has made the press “reluctant to aggressively confront abuses of power.”Footnote 102
This is a particular problem in the context of law enforcement. As Oren Bar-Gill and Barry Friedman observe, “To achieve its deterrent effect, litigation over Fourth Amendment violations must occur regularly enough to be a plausible threat and to develop the law necessary to provide rules for police officials.”Footnote 103 But even if they had the resources, most press institutions do not want to repeatedly sue the police. By doing so, they risk losing access to sources and places they need for reporting, as well as more targeted forms of retribution, and they may well become part of the story.Footnote 104
21.2.3 Conceptual Problems
One problem with special protections of particular relevance to this volume is identifying who ought to receive them.Footnote 105 An exemption-based structure requires decision-makers (and, ultimately, courts) to determine whether a would-be claimant is entitled to protections intended for “the press” or not.Footnote 106 As Sonja West has described it in the context of campaign finance law, the structure immediately confronts the objection that “there is no acceptable way to identify which speakers should be allowed to claim a media exemption and which should not.”Footnote 107
Institutions have differing capacities to apply these exemptions. The stakes of identifying “the press” are undoubtedly higher as legacy media outlets have cratered and web publications, social media, podcasts, and other forms of content production have taken their place. In settings with ample time to consider whether an individual or an organization is a member of “the press,” I think the identification hurdle, as it has been construed, is overstated: Courts and other decision-makers have been administering press-specific statutory exemptions for decades without much trouble.Footnote 108
For police-making decisions on the fly, identifying journalists is a more serious challenge but still a manageable one.Footnote 109 Consider the uprisings against racial violence that occurred after George Floyd’s murder in 2020. For over 100 days straight, people demonstrated in Portland, Oregon, frequently coming into conflict with city and federal law enforcement.Footnote 110 Soon after the uprisings began, a group of local legal observers and press actors filed a complaint in federal court alleging that law enforcement was targeting journalists and other “neutrals.”Footnote 111 The district court issued a temporary restraining order barring city police from “arresting, threatening to arrest, or using physical force directed against any person whom they know or reasonably should know is a Journalist or Legal Observer…, unless the Police have probable cause to believe that such individual has committed a crime.”Footnote 112 The result was that, after the order was issued, protestors and bystanders could be arrested for failing to disperse, but press and legal observers could not.Footnote 113 In a chaotic situation, the police needed some way of identifying the press in order to afford them special protections, so the court defined “indicia of being a Journalist” – official press passes or “distinctive clothing that identifies the wearer as a member of the press.”Footnote 114 In short, there were administrable ways of distinguishing “the press” from ordinary speakers even under challenging conditions.
The newly dynamic nature of the press makes the identification problem more difficult, however. As press functions become more widely distributed, the costs of protecting the press also rise. In part, the costs of protection are higher because the press industry is harder to contain as its powerful gatekeepers shrink and vanish. A full sketch of the news industry’s downward turn is beyond the scope of this chapter. The short version is that the advertising-based business model of the press has been ill-equipped to compete with platform-based advertising.Footnote 115 The rise of programmatic advertising “disrupted the distribution model for news, took over the creation and the pricing of the advertising market, and colonized audience attention.”Footnote 116 Newspapers and legacy press outlets suffered from diminishing ad dollars. Many folded.
The same advances in information and communication technology that reshaped commercial advertising also changed journalism itself. The emergence of social media platforms redistributed the power to communicate from legacy news media institutions to individuals, nonprofits, civil society organizations, and others. Indeed, the digital age was widely heralded for its “democratization” of communications.Footnote 117 As Jack Balkin has observed, “changes in technology and the economics of mass communication” have fundamentally reshaped journalism.Footnote 118
Technological shifts that “democratized” communications and demolished the news industry made it both easier and harder to identify press functions.Footnote 119 On the one hand, new platforms with new business models increasingly fulfilled some of the traditional functions of the press industry.Footnote 120 Partly as a result, methods of identifying the press based on business structure or medium would be underinclusive, leaving out freelance journalists or those who publish exclusively online.Footnote 121 At the same time, the profusion of online platforms and publications has made it easier for individuals to “act at times as a casual journalist.”Footnote 122 As Sue Robinson and Cathy DeShano write, “Seldom has such a disruptive phenomenon penetrated the inner echelons of the press.”Footnote 123
The redistribution of the press function among so many different actors also makes press-specific protections more costly to law enforcement and to society at large. In a world in which the major press freedom cases were about reporters affiliated with recognized, mainstream news organizations, the press was not only easy to identify, it was also small and elite. Today, the elite press might be even smaller, but it is much more difficult to identify. The disintermediation of press activities, such as gathering and disseminating information, means that many other people can plausibly claim to be exercising at least some press functions. Some of them, as Professor Rick Hasen notes, are better described as faux journalists than real ones.Footnote 124
Administering press freedoms is therefore not only harder because the press is more difficult to identify. Rather, any press-protective rule will need to be farther-reaching, both to reach individuals who may not resemble legacy journalists and to accommodate a new mode of thinking about the press’s functions, instead of its identity. In other words, the concern is not just about administrability or the extent to which a press-specific rule might violate the First Amendment; it’s rather about the social costs that press-specific protections might produce once they are broadened to capture all the press’s functions.
21.2.4 Costs
Special protections are not only disappointingly ineffective. Adopting them may also impose additional costs. The first is political: The recognition of press-specific rights may, perversely, reinforce distrust and resentment of the press. When we create special privileges for the in-group, we reinforce the inferiority of the out-group. As Jamal Greene points out, to the extent the recognition of constitutional rights hinges on a binary choice between those who do and do not hold rights, “it places us in an adversarial rather than a cooperative posture vis-à-vis other members of the polity.”Footnote 125 This is, of course, always a concern, but is perhaps particularly salient amid widespread distrust of the press. My worry is that emphasizing the exceptional nature of the press may actually accentuate the tendency to “delineat[e] the press as an enemy … that ought to be distrusted, countered, and perhaps ultimately stripped of ordinarily observed rights and liberties.”Footnote 126
The second cost is that recognizing and protecting press rights can legitimate law enforcement activities that suppress others’ rights.Footnote 127 In a sense, this is a cost related to the prevailing way in which press rights have been framed as examples of “negative liberty” to be free of government interference.Footnote 128 When we create special rights for the press, we enable certain individuals and institutions to be free of forms of government intrusion that are otherwise expected. We also forego the opportunity to recognize positive expressive rights for the broader public.Footnote 129
Consider one example: Andrea Sahouri, a reporter for the Des Moines Register, was covering a Black Lives Matter protest in 2020 when she was arrested along with dozens of protestors. Unlike nearly every other reporter who was arrested during that summer, Sahouri was actually prosecuted on misdemeanor charges of failure to disperse and interference with an official act.Footnote 130 Sahouri, the Register, and amici argued that, as working press, Sahouri should not be prosecuted because her activities were fully protected by the First Amendment. She was ultimately acquitted.
Imagine that Sahouri had a unique right not to comply with a lawful order to disperse. What are the consequences of recognizing Sahouri’s right for all of those other individuals who are expected to comply? There are, as I noted above, expressive consequences – the recognition of Sahouri’s rights suggests that ordinary protestors have none and thus places the press and the public on unequal footing. It confers a privilege on Sahouri to engage in expressive activities while the public is simultaneously denied an ability to do so. There are thus distributional consequences. Protecting press actors may lead to more police time and resources being dedicated to arresting protestors instead of journalists.
Recognizing special rights will always create some inequality between rightsholders and non-rightsholders. But if recognizing special rights also aggravates unequal treatment by focusing law enforcement energies elsewhere, then the press not only benefits from but becomes a participant in a broader injustice. Moreover, once the press has received special rights that benefit it directly, it is less likely to act in solidarity with other speakers or advocate for the expressive rights of others.Footnote 131 Perhaps most alarming, then, is the fact that special rights, by separating press actors from other speakers and conferring special privileges upon them, make it less likely that the press industry will act in solidarity with other speakers.
21.3 New Approaches
The usual framing of press-specific protections – as special rights, privileges, or defenses that only press actors can invoke – is reactive rather than proactive. It assumes that the existence of press-specific protections will deter abuses and infringements on press freedom, and it relies on individuals and press institutions to litigate and pursue claims against powerful actors after violations have occurred.
The assumption that special protections will work to curtail the gravest threats to journalism is rooted in a fundamental faith that individual rights effectively safeguard government accountability. At bottom, they are designed for a different time, one in which the press and the government occupied a relatively stable “equilibrium,” and each institution served as a check on the excesses of the other.Footnote 132 As Christina Koningisor and Lyrissa Lidsky have demonstrated with respect to government secrecy in particular, the “underlying beliefs that the press is sufficiently powerful and the government is sufficiently constrained” underpin many of the core features of press freedom jurisprudence.Footnote 133 Today, however, both elements of that equilibrium are under strain, with the diminishment of journalism and the rise in government power altering the balance in favor of the state.Footnote 134 Meanwhile, these shifts are occurring against a background of substantial uncertainty about the scope and reach of First Amendment protections.
Without dramatically limiting the discretion afforded to criminal law enforcement agencies, doctrinal exceptionalism will not provide sufficient protection to the press function. Yet we most often see narrow and procedural protections instead of broad and substantive ones. The reason is, at least in part, ideological: The appeal of special procedural protections is in part that they enable the press to claim legal protection without outright challenging or critiquing substantive criminal law. Press institutions often prefer not to challenge law enforcement power outright, as doing so “could be seen to undermine journalistic objectivity by inserting press institutions into a broader debate.”Footnote 135 Instead, the press has embraced a strategy of “seeking specific protections for journalists or ‘neutral’ actors” while leaving broader substantive criminal law intact.Footnote 136 Press institutions have historically been reluctant to take a position on substantive issues related to criminal law enforcement. As I argue in earlier work, the press’s commitment to journalistic objectivity has also influenced its legal strategy and shaped its choices about advocacy.Footnote 137 Because of a combination of scarce resources and institutional values, press institutions often prioritize litigation about issues such as government transparency or newsgathering rights instead of broader accountability-oriented litigation.
All of this is to say that I share the press exceptionalists’ concern that reporters and journalists face unacceptable levels of uncertainty about their legal protections as they gather and report the news. Where we part ways is with respect to the appropriate solutions. If my account so far is correct, then special protections are not the right path forward. So how can we effectively constrain government meddling and interference with the press function without special rights?
Part of the answer must be that any rights-based approach to press freedom has to be backed up by meaningful police reforms that decrease law enforcement’s ability to interfere with press functions. These reforms are more likely to be holistic than press-specific. To date, however, the press industry has typically stayed out of debates about police authority unless they directly implicate journalism.Footnote 138 The press has been short-sighted about the potential threats that criminal law enforcement may pose to cherished constitutional values.
If the press were to change strategies – if the industry were to pursue greater limits on law enforcement power to ensure that newsgathering could operate with fewer inhibitions – it would reshape their advocacy efforts. The press is a powerful interest group capable of influencing policymaking, but it has chosen not to engage in many legislative debates that have deep implications for newsgathering.
A primary area on which the press ought to take a more aggressive position is the policing of protest. As one press freedom advocate has put it, “[C]overing protests routinely is the most dangerous activity for journalists.”Footnote 139 Mass arrests at protests are common, and law enforcement often uses aggressive techniques to maintain order that have dramatic implications for journalists’ safety and ability to gather the news. For selfish reasons, then, the press industry ought to support meaningful reductions in law enforcement’s power to curtail protest.
Some changes to law enforcement practices are already afoot to restrict police discretion in controlling demonstrations and protest. In the last several years, political pressure and court-ordered settlements have compelled some of the nation’s largest law enforcement agencies to change how they police protests, including by creating new systems to respond to demonstrationsFootnote 140 and restricting the use of “less-lethal” munitions.Footnote 141
Although these changes undoubtedly benefit the journalists and reporters who interact with law enforcement, they are largely not “special rights” – they reflect that broader changes to the policing of dissent are necessary to protect expressive freedoms.Footnote 142 As Joel Simon pointed out in his report for the Knight First Amendment Institute at Columbia University, “Many of the most serious press freedom violations that have occurred in recent years do not stem from any difficulty on the part of the police in distinguishing who is and who is not a journalist.”Footnote 143 Instead, intentional targeting of press actors by law enforcement appears increasingly and disturbingly common.
The impediments to recovery of monetary damages for civil rights violations also suggest that the press ought to take a more aggressive and proactive role. The press could, for example, call for an end to qualified immunity, which often stands in the way of recovery for civil rights violations.Footnote 144 Return for a moment to Villarreal v. City of Laredo, the case in which Lagordiloca was charged with misdemeanor solicitation of nonpublic information. While the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit conceded that Villarreal had the right to publish the information that she received, the majority held that the city of Laredo was entitled to qualified immunity because it was not “clearly established” that Villarreal had a right to solicit nonpublic information from a government source – in other words, that she had a right to gather the news.Footnote 145 The court suggested that Lagordiloca should have “followed Texas law, or challenged that law in court,” before engaging in newsgathering.Footnote 146 As I write, the Fifth Circuit is reconsidering Villarreal’s case after the Supreme Court remanded it.
Despite lingering uncertainty about the outcome for Lagordiloca, Villarreal suggests that press institutions should affirmatively seek legal clarity about the scope of newsgathering and thus invites the press to consider what such a litigation strategy could look like. In particular, there are two areas in which the law of newsgathering could be developed. First, the press could employ a coordinated litigation effort to clarify and develop newsgathering protections. Numerous states have laws that affect newsgathering. While Texas’ prohibition on the solicitation of nonpublic information seems unique, many states have criminalized other elements of newsgathering through prohibitions on trespass, interference with official acts, or the receipt of stolen property. A litigation strategy oriented toward limiting the impact of these criminal laws on the free flow of information may produce some certainty about constitutional newsgathering protections. It may even produce major benefits for press freedom. It need not, however, be press specific or even centered on the press.
One such strategy might center on the role of subjective intent as a limit on broad criminal statutes that affect newsgathering. For First Amendment scholars, the role of intent in circumscribing potential civil and criminal liability is familiar: In cases involving obscenity, defamation, and true threats, the Supreme Court has required that, even in cases involving utterly unprotected speech, prosecutors must demonstrate that a defendant acted with subjective intent to produce the danger that the law is meant to prevent.Footnote 147 But many statutes criminalizing newsgathering already include mens rea requirements, limiting this strategy’s utility. A further-reaching strategy might be modeled on the successful effort to secure judicial recognition and protection of the right to record government officials in public.Footnote 148 That effort involved a mix of pre-enforcement challenges and Section 1983 suits.Footnote 149 Notably, although the ability to record is of critical importance to journalists and the press, the right to do so is not limited to those exercising the press function: It is a right possessed by all.Footnote 150
Another area for development is the use of class action lawsuits against law enforcement agencies that systematically engage in actions that infringe on press freedom. Litigation over racial profiling in traffic enforcement provides a useful model: Class actions alleging a pattern or practice of discriminatory enforcement that violates the Fourth and Fourteenth Amendments have overcome some of the many barriers to police reform and resulted in ongoing court-ordered monitoring.Footnote 151 If press actors have compelling evidence that a police agency is purposefully engaging in practices to stifle newsgathering and retaliate against First Amendment-protected activity, law enforcement reform litigation can be a powerful tool. Indeed, police reform litigation is doubly significant for the press because it not only relies on government information (which the press might be skilled at uncovering) but also frequently uncovers additional information of significant public concern (which the press could use in its news reporting).Footnote 152
Nevertheless, it is not at all obvious that efforts to “settle the law” through litigation will necessarily advance press freedom.Footnote 153 Villarreal itself reveals a circuit court that is highly deferential to criminal law enforcement. Efforts to clarify and strengthen the law of newsgathering may risk undermining the tenuous protections that currently exist. Indeed, in the context of the Espionage Act, some have suggested that “benign indeterminacy” ultimately may be preferable to settling the question.Footnote 154
Broader restrictions are necessary to reshape police authority and law enforcement’s relationship with the press. But legal action is unlikely to accomplish these goals without sustained pressure and community involvement. In this respect, it is a real problem that many press institutions have taken the position that objectivity requires reporters to act apolitically. Indeed, many news organizations bar their employees from engaging in political activism or supporting political causes.Footnote 155 These policies inhibit the ability of journalists and reporters to challenge how law enforcement clamps down on free expression. Ironically, the objectivity paradigm prevents journalists from participating in grassroots organizing alongside others who are advocating for their First Amendment rights.
Even so, press institutions can take a more aggressive tack in addressing law enforcement agencies’ choices in interacting with the communities they serve. Press institutions might take the lead in advocating for new training, policies, and regulations for how law enforcement engages with First Amendment rightsholders, for example. Or they might call for meaningful constraints on law enforcement surveillance, in recognition of pervasive monitoring’s implications for free expression.Footnote 156
21.4 Conclusion
As mainstream news outlets wither and the job of producing press coverage is distributed more broadly, the classic protections for press freedom are becoming less effective at protecting journalists. The distribution of press work means that journalists are harder to identify, and it is therefore more difficult to determine whether an individual is entitled to special protections or not. Meanwhile, very broad substantive criminal laws also permit law enforcement to investigate, monitor, threaten, and ultimately punish press actors, regardless of special protections that may apply. This dynamic is especially concerning as states have acted to criminalize protest activities,Footnote 157 undercover investigations,Footnote 158 and other expressive conduct.Footnote 159 Broad statutes are proliferating; at the same time, First Amendment doctrine supplies only limited avenues for effectively challenging them.
In short, the problem that press freedom faces is not simply a problem of insufficient protections; rather, it is that any procedural protections are likely to be less effective against a very powerful state.Footnote 160 Press freedom advocacy needs to become bolder, braver, and more aggressive if it is to ensure that the values of journalism remain viable amid threats to democratic discourse and critical news coverage.