|
Americans increasingly use artificial intelligence chatbots as advisers, sounding boards, and even confidants. We ask about medical symptoms, relationships, workplace disputes, political ideas, and legal problems. Many of us reveal thoughts we would hesitate to share with another person. These conversations seem private, but they can become quite public. The Washington Post found a dozen civil and criminal cases over the past two years in which chatbot conversations surfaced in legal proceedings. As AI systems become more deeply integrated into daily life, such disclosures are likely to become routine. Civil discovery can allow lawyers to search broadly through an opposing party’s devices and digital records. In one Michigan dispute, a former employee’s questions to ChatGPT about whether Yahoo could recover a deleted email became evidence in litigation brought by his former employer. In another case, a 15-year-old boy sued several social media companies, alleging that their platforms contributed to years of addiction and mental-health problems. Defense attorneys obtained his ChatGPT conversations, including deeply personal exchanges about his father, and placed them in the public court record. Mike Morgan, an attorney whose firm represented the teenager, observed that a teen “may type things into a chatbot that he may not say to a therapist, a parent, or a friend.” Yet that teenager may have no idea his words could later appear in an expert report or public court filing. Relevant evidence is not immune from discovery merely because it was shared with a chatbot. Courts may permit the use of such conversations as evidence of fraud, the destruction of evidence, and damaging admissions. Those who don’t understand this risk having their deepest secrets exposed in court. Chatbot records may contain a uniquely revealing mixture of private facts, half-formed ideas, emotional venting, political and religious questions, and hypothetical scenarios. Michael Price, litigation director of the National Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers’ Fourth Amendment Center, aptly calls these conversations “a window into the soul to reveal the privacies of life.” Nevertheless, chatbot conversations, like diaries or internet searches, have no immunity from legal proceedings, whatever the implications for privacy and First Amendment expression. Asking a chatbot a legal, psychological, or theological question does not create an attorney-client, therapist-patient, or clergy privilege. Anything you tell an AI chatbot might someday be demanded by an employer, business adversary, divorce lawyer, or ideological opponent. As more people understand this, they might censor their inquiries. Their freedom to investigate and privately test ideas might be chilled. At the very least, we hope courts will require opposing counsel’s requests for chatbot histories to be specific, relevant, and proportional to the needs of a case. Judges should seal intensely personal information – especially records involving minors. But as long as a court relies on due process – and in criminal cases, a warrant – your chatbot inquiries can be made public in court. Every decent person deplores child sexual abuse material (CSAM) and supports every reasonable effort to eradicate it. Existing laws already make it a crime for anyone – including social media platforms – to “facilitate,” “distribute,” “promote,” or “possess” CSAM. But a new proposal would inadvertently threaten the privacy and encryption that shield women and children from stalkers, whistleblowers from wrongdoers, and journalists and dissidents from cartels and tyrants. It would also incentivize lawsuits, based on loose standards, that could chill and censor legitimate speech. These are the problems with the STOP CSAM Act, which has been quietly added to the latest defense authorization bill. It’s the same crossroads we arrived at in 2023, when Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF) contributors Jason Kelley and Sophia Cope detailed why this bill’s approach is flawed. The STOP CSAM Act would allow lawsuits that could compromise the privacy of millions of Americans who simply wish their digital communications to be as private as their conversations with friends in a park. Encryption isn’t a crime or a problem. In the digital age, it’s how we ensure true privacy. Because digital privacy supports digital expression, the STOP CSAM Act and similar measures could also threaten all manner of speech. All Americans, including minors, have an inherent right to access the internet as “our nation’s primary marketplace of ideas.” As EFF puts it, the punitive regulatory regime imposed by this legislation would “certainly be gamed by bad actors, exposing platforms and users to bogus takedown requests, likely involving First Amendment-protected content …To mitigate the risk of new civil lawsuits and administrative proceedings, platforms would censor more and more user content and accounts, with minimal regard as to whether that content is in fact legal.” EFF is not spinning wild theories. These are likely outcomes. The bill is a trial lawyer’s dream, basing liability on “recklessness” – allowing plaintiffs to recover at least $300,000, punitive damages, and litigation costs. This could give platforms an incentive to remove anything remotely edgy. The bill’s nebulous crimes of “promotion” and “aiding and abetting” could reach beyond illegal images to discussions, links, searches, private messages, or services. This could easily suppress lawful conversations about sexuality, abuse recovery, reproductive health, or sex education. When the penalty for leaving something remotely questionable online is so enormous, platforms will embrace a “remove first and ask questions later” approach. Under the revised bill, encryption alone would not constitute a basis for civil liability, but it could still be used as evidence in litigation. This would pressure companies to scan messages, weaken encryption, or abandon encryption altogether. Such pressure creates the risk of mistaking ordinary conversations among teenagers, parents, teachers, doctors, or counselors for evidence of grooming or exploitation. We applaud congressional efforts to blot out CSAM and punish its purveyors. But this bill would create a system with so many uncertainties and financial threats that private platforms would be forced to become overzealous censorship agents. Simply put, this well-intentioned bill has too many unintended consequences. The next great battle over free speech may not be fought on social media. It may be fought in the realm of artificial intelligence. Americans are increasingly reliant on AI assistants, which are becoming the researchers, tutors, and reference librarians for millions of Americans. If federal bureaucrats can quietly influence the answers these artificial advisors provide, the result would not merely be speech moderation. It would give the government the dangerous power to shape how citizens understand history, politics, science, and public affairs. That is the realization behind Rep. Harriet Hageman’s (R-WY) Preventing AI Censorship Act, legislation intended to hold federal employees personally accountable if they use their government positions to pressure AI companies into suppressing lawful speech or distorting information. As Rep. Hageman put it: “The First Amendment does not have an AI exemption. Federal employees who pressure AI companies to filter viewpoints, distort content, or spy on users based on their beliefs will face real legal consequences.” The bill would create a private right of action allowing Americans to sue federal employees who coerce AI providers into suppressing viewpoints, altering AI outputs for ideological reasons, degrading access based on political beliefs, or using AI systems to facilitate viewpoint-based surveillance. Protect The 1st has long reminded policymakers that government officials cannot accomplish indirectly what the Constitution forbids them from doing directly. The U.S. Supreme Court has repeatedly recognized that the government may not evade the First Amendment by leaning on private companies to censor speech. If AI becomes the primary gateway to information, the same constitutional principle must apply. Reasonable safety guardrails for AI are appropriate. Government coercion to suppress protected speech is not. Congress can learn from Rep. Hageman’s approach that constitutional rights do not disappear when technology changes. The First Amendment protected the printing press, radio, television, and the internet. It must also protect the speech rights of Americans as we step into the age of artificial intelligence. When it comes to freedom of expression, the law cannot discriminate against viewpoints. The First Amendment is neutral, making it a guardrail against today’s speech police on the right and the left. As much as some might wish otherwise, the First Amendment contains no exception for regulations protecting dignity, flags, or anyone’s idea of speech that is reasonable or unreasonable. Nor does the Constitution say anything about course catalogs at universities, as a Trump-appointed judge on the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 11th Circuit reminded Florida last week. The state’s 2022 Stop WOKE Act restricted how public higher education institutions can teach students about ideas concerning race and gender. Judge Britt C. Grant previously ruled that by “limiting its restrictions to a list of ideas designated as offensive, the Act targets speech based on its content,” and that by “barring only speech that endorses any of those ideas, it penalizes certain viewpoints – the greatest First Amendment sin.” In last week’s appellate ruling, Judge Grant doubled down, calling the law “a breathtaking assertion of power to ban unpopular ideas from public discourse.” Viewpoint judgments will always provide slippery standards for would-be speech police. Viewpoints cannot be effectively controlled or legitimately adjudicated by law, or by official pressure campaigns and jawboning. Protect The 1st has long been critical of the ideological monoculture on many U.S. campuses. The proper response to one-sided academic ideology, however, is not to pass laws that attempt to dictate countervailing ideology. Such efforts are doomed to fail, and not just in court. Attempting to legislate or regulate the inherently slippery nature of speech is a fool’s errand. The best approaches must be cultural. It is perfectly legitimate for legislators and donors to pressure universities to open discussion to all sides by declaring their institutions neutral forums – the very kind of spaces that should flourish under the First Amendment. The disappearance of Nancy Guthrie is the stuff of nightmares. The 84-year-old mother of “Today” co-host Savannah Guthrie vanished from her home in the Catalina Foothills outside Tucson on Feb. 1. Investigators found evidence that she had been taken against her will, including Guthrie’s blood at the scene. Security footage showed a masked, armed figure tampering with a doorbell camera. Five months later, Guthrie remains missing, and the FBI says the case is still being investigated as a kidnapping for ransom. It is hardly surprising that this story has attracted intense public attention and the usual pop-up conspiracy theories. It has also attracted a collection of true-crime streamers and YouTubers who have camped out near Nancy Guthrie’s home, livestreaming developments and offering their theories to online audiences. Some of their behavior has been, to put it mildly, appalling. Neighbors have complained of harassment, public urination, filming of residents, and creators turning their quiet neighborhood into a stage for online speculation. Law enforcement has every right to enforce laws against trespassing, obstruction, harassment, and other unlawful conduct. But as Taylor Seely of The Arizona Republic reports, law enforcement records raise a different question: Were some streamers arrested not for breaking the law, but because authorities did not like who they were or what they were doing? Three streamers – Alexander Zabel, Troy Bradshaw, and Damian Enderle – were arrested or cited in June on public nuisance or obstruction charges. “But unlike Zabel, neither Enderle nor Bradshaw were accused of urinating in public,” Seely wrote. “They were not on private property, and, on this day at least, they were not obstructing the roadway. Incident reports of their arrests list the crimes of ‘live streaming and lingering.’” One detective revealed a troubling attitude in an incident report, describing the streamers as “so-called journalists” who exploit tragedy “to increase their social media followers and potentially benefit financially.” He may well be right. But unprofessionalism is not a First Amendment standard. The First Amendment does not authorize police officers, sheriffs, or judges to distinguish between noble journalism and crummy journalism. It does not protect only reporters with press passes, journalism degrees, editors, or respectable business models. Nor does constitutional protection disappear when someone is sensationalistic, tasteless, self-promoting, or hoping to make money. If it did, government would be empowered to decide who counts as a “real” journalist. That power would inevitably be used to reward favored media and punish disfavored speakers. The Supreme Court has long recognized that freedom of the press belongs to more than an officially recognized professional class. In the digital age, the line between journalist, citizen journalist, blogger, podcaster, livestreamer, and ordinary citizen with a cellphone is increasingly difficult to draw. This does not give YouTubers a license to trespass, block roads, threaten neighbors, or urinate on someone’s property. Conduct can be regulated through neutral laws that apply to everyone. But police cannot transform “public nuisance” into a catchall for people whose reporting they regard as exploitative or distasteful. Nor should the words “so-called journalist” ever become a predicate for arrest. The tragedy of Nancy Guthrie deserves compassion, restraint, and serious journalism. Some online creators fall far short of those standards. The First Amendment protects them anyway. AI scholar and USC Annenberg professor Kate Crawford has written a compelling thought piece for the Knight Institute. “Of Slop and Swarms: The First Amendment’s Next Test,” raises thorny questions. In fact, as much as anything, it’s a roadmap for anticipating the kinds of free speech issues that AI is likely to engender. It’s well worth your time to read Professor Crawford’s essay from beginning to end, but the gist of her assertions centers on the juxtaposition of human agency and generative AI, which produces content. “Generative AI,” Crawford cautions, “leaves First Amendment doctrine without a clear account of who, if anyone, is speaking.” And if the answer is that no actual person is speaking, how does the law treat that? The “presumption of speaking” – of actual speech in the First Amendment sense of expression – would seem then to require both a human speaker and human control. Such questions are entirely new territory from a First Amendment perspective, which is the point of Crawford’s essay. Particularly thorny issues that Crawford previews include:
Crawford returns to her central premise – the “presumption of speaking” in the First Amendment sense of protected expression requires both a human speaker and meaningful human control. This approach, says Crawford, tracks Justice Amy Coney Barrett’s stance in Moody v. NetChoice. That same Supreme Court case raised (but did not settle) an adjacent question involving government regulation of social media content moderation. No one likes the idea of government overreach into what is clearly an expressive medium, but what happens when platform owners cede control and let large language models determine, for example, what is “hateful” and what is “permissible” speech? Other points to ponder at the intersection of free speech and AI include:
So stay tuned – probably for the next 20-plus years. In the meantime, read Professor Crawford’s thought-provoking essay. Paigelynne Gonyea was working at a polling place in Syracuse, New York, when she received a phone message from a special agent with the Department of Homeland Security. The caller said agents “were just by” her apartment seeking to talk to Gonyea about an online post in which she supposedly “doxed an ICE agent back in January.” Gonyea, who has an Instagram account with more than 30,000 followers, took this as a reference to a post she had made about a masked ICE agent linked to a major national story, the fatal shooting of Renée Good in her car. Gonyea’s post read: “The ICE agent who shot and killed Renée Good in broad daylight has been identified as Jonathan Ross by the Minnesota Star Tribune. I think today is a great day for Jonathan to be indicted!” When armed agents took Gonyea up on offer to meet at her polling place, she was presented with a “warning notice.” This document informed Gonyea that “it is unlawful to threaten to assault, kidnap, and/or murder a federal official” and that “knowingly making restricted personal information about a covered person, or their immediate family member, publicly available with the intent to threaten, intimidate, or incite the commission of a crime.” Doing so, the document said, could subject her to federal and state prosecution. Gonyea was baffled. The post she had made did not include Ross’s address, phone number, or any other personal information other than his name – which had been widely reported. Gonyea later told the media that the agents “tried to scare me into signing” the document “while I was working.” She refused. She also refused to remove her post about Agent Ross. To summarize: Whatever one thinks about ICE’s efforts to repatriate undocumented persons in general, or the facts surrounding the shooting of Renée Good in particular, all Gonyea did was to make a post expressing her opinion that a named agent of the federal government should be indicted for shooting a woman. ICE treated that opinion as a crime, showing up at polling station with armed officers who attempted to intimidate Gonyea into signing a document in which she would have likely incriminated herself. To be sure, it is indeed a crime to publish “restricted personal information” about a federal official with the intent to do harm. ICE’s unwillingness to distinguish between this sort of actual “doxing” and expressing an opinion about holding an agent accountable before the law displays a thuggish disregard for the First Amendment. More details are available in this NPR post. Read here. What Thomas Nast was to the age of 19th-century political cartooning, AI is becoming to modern political satire. We’ve all come across AI-generated shorts that depict realistic looking political figures – AOC, Donald Trump, Bernie Sanders, J.D. Vance – saying and doing absurd things. The Babylon Bee’s “We Asked AI to Predict What Will Happen Now that Elon Musk Is a Trillionaire” is a sterling example of how this technology can allow Americans to engage in a pastime as old as the Republic – ridiculing public figures. And if the satire is broad enough, no one mistakes these shorts for the real thing. But the same technology that can ridicule a politician can also take the image of a woman – whether she’s an ex-girlfriend or a celebrity – and create what appears to be an image of her acting out hardcore porn. Republican Arizona state Rep. Nick Kupper set out to do something about this by outlawing revenge porn and other AI-generated sexual depictions of underage victims, as well as of adults who have not given their consent. Arizona Gov. Katie Hobbs, a Democrat, vetoed his bill, claiming in a statement that the bill’s sponsor said in committee that the “legislation’s intent is to require the consent of an elected official before they are satirized on a show like South Park.” Kate Ruane, director of the Center for Democracy and Technology’s Free Expression Project, told the Tucson Sentinel that the bill’s definition of “synthetic” content – any visual depiction altered or created using AI or digital technology – is vague and could encompass parody, satire, or public-interest citizen reporting. “That introduces a whole new host of issues that will create a gigantic burden for speech that is happening on a lot of very big platforms that allow sexual content,” Ruane said, referencing websites such as Reddit, Bluesky, and X. “It will be up to the whims of political actors to determine what content is covered by sexual content that is harmful to minors … “What we're dealing with here is the potential for significant jawboning, essentially, on the part of motivated politicians who wish to erase certain speech from the internet,” Ruane said. “What you could get is just gigantic blocking of content.” In other words, the bill could create a “Mother, May I?” standard for seeking permission from politicians before satirizing them on sites where one could also find some types of sexual material (basically, the same standard as any of the major streaming channels). For her part, Gov. Hobbs says that Arizona law and the federal Take It Down Act already protect Arizonans. The governor also says that she reached out to the Rep. Kupper to sharpen the bill, only to be rebuffed. For his part, Rep. Kupper told The Center Square that the governor’s statements are misleading and that his bill is an improvement over the Take It Down Act in that it would prevent offending material from being uploaded – not merely allow it to be punished with criminal charges and civil remedies later. “Once it’s uploaded, the harm has been done to the individual who’s in the content,” Rep. Kupper said. Whether or not courts would find that clause to be prior restraint – forbidden under First Amendment law – the culling of content before it is posted seems to us to validate Ruane’s concern about overreach. Blocking content could incentivize platforms to censor anything that smacks of synthetic material, leading to political jawboning and “the gigantic blocking of content.” Perhaps the two politicians should get together to discuss a better approach – before someone satirizes them. When lawmakers decide that some Americans may speak about politics and public issues while others may not, the First Amendment is relegated to secondary status. That is the core issue in a new lawsuit challenging Hawaii’s Act 11, a law that bars a broad range of organizations from engaging in political and ballot-measure advocacy. The plaintiff, the Grassroot Institute of Hawaii, argues that the law violates the First Amendment by preventing nonprofit organizations, businesses, associations, and other groups from speaking about candidates, elections, and ballot initiatives. At first glance, some may shrug. After all, corporations are not exactly a sympathetic constituency. But that misses the point. The First Amendment protects people. And people often join together in organizations to make their voices heard. The NAACP, the Sierra Club, the National Rifle Association, labor unions, chambers of commerce, churches, civil-rights organizations, and countless local advocacy groups all rely on the ability of individuals to pool resources and speak collectively. All are “corporations.” Restricting the speech of organizations inevitably restricts the speech of the people who make up those organizations. According to the complaint, Hawaii’s law goes far beyond regulating campaign contributions. It broadly prohibits many organizations from spending money or resources to support or oppose ballot measures and other political causes. The law also authorizes severe penalties, including revocation of an organization’s legal status, termination of state contracts, and even involuntary dissolution. That is a level of speech coercion worthy of King George III. Whether one agrees with the Grassroot Institute’s views is beside the point. Imagine a future legislature deciding that environmental groups cannot campaign for a ballot initiative. Or that pro-life organizations cannot advocate for a constitutional amendment. Or that business associations cannot oppose a tax increase. Or that labor unions cannot seek a change in labor law. Once government acquires the power to decide which organizations may participate in public debate, every group becomes vulnerable when political winds shift. The danger is particularly acute when ballot measures are involved. Ballot initiatives are one of the purest forms of democratic self-government. Citizens are asked to decide major policy questions directly. To make informed decisions, voters need to hear arguments from every perspective. The lawsuit also raises another troubling issue: speaker discrimination. According to the complaint, Hawaii’s law exempts traditional media organizations, allowing newspapers and broadcasters to continue publishing editorials and commentary on candidates and ballot measures while restricting many other organizations from engaging in similar advocacy. The First Amendment was designed precisely to prevent government from deciding which speakers are trustworthy and which are not. Government officials should not be empowered to pick favored participants in public debate while silencing others. Americans regularly disagree about politics. We disagree about taxes, education, energy policy, public health, immigration, and countless other issues. The answer to those disagreements is not to narrow the range of voices in the public square. It is to widen it. The principle at stake in this case extends far beyond Hawaii. Today, one state may target think tanks, nonprofits, or business organizations. Tomorrow, another state could target labor unions, advocacy groups, or religious organizations. A government that can decide who gets to speak about public affairs possesses a power fundamentally at odds with the First Amendment. In a free society, citizens retain the right to join together, advocate for causes they believe in, and persuade their fellow Americans. That principle protects every viewpoint, not just the popular ones. And it is worth defending, no matter who happens to be speaking. When government officials scrutinize media outlets because they dislike the viewpoints being expressed, Americans of every political persuasion should pay attention. That is the core message of a new comment filed by Protect The 1st with the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) regarding the agency’s unusual decision to revisit a decades-old determination that ABC’s The View qualifies as a “bona fide news interview” program. As we noted in an earlier post, the FCC has raised questions about whether The View should continue to enjoy an exemption from federal “equal opportunity” requirements that apply to broadcast candidates. The trigger for this inquiry was The View’s hosting of James Talarico, a liberal Democrat and his party’s nominee for a Texas Senate seat. In our public comment, PT1st tells the FCC that when it withdraws regulatory approvals over disagreements with a show’s hosts or guests, it crosses a dangerous constitutional line. The Commission would move from regulating technical aspects of broadcasting to becoming an arbiter of acceptable political speech. That should worry conservatives as much as liberals. Today, the target may be a left-leaning daytime talk show. Tomorrow, a progressive administration could use the same precedent against conservative broadcasters, podcasters, or commentators. Once government acquires the power to punish or pressure speakers because of their viewpoints, no ideological camp remains safe for long. PT1st’s comment emphasizes a simple principle: the First Amendment exists precisely to protect speech that many people dislike. Government officials do not get to decide which viewpoints are sufficiently balanced, neutral, or acceptable to deserve protection. Worse, if broadcasters conclude that politically controversial interviews could trigger regulatory scrutiny, many may choose to avoid such programming altogether. The result would be less debate, fewer interviews, and fewer opportunities for voters to hear competing perspectives. Even the threat of government retaliation can chill speech before it occurs. Our filing also notes that the media landscape of 2026 bears little resemblance to the one that existed when equal-time rules were first developed. Americans now receive news, commentary, and political information from thousands of sources, including podcasts, streaming platforms, social media, newsletters, and online publications. The View competes in a marketplace crowded with voices from every point on the political spectrum. Consider:
While The View featured Senate candidate Talarico, Joe Rogan – with an audience more than six-and-a-half times greater – featured presidential candidate Donald Trump just before the 2024 election. This comparison shows how antiquated New Deal-era laws are, harking back to a time when access to the airwaves had to be rationed because of scarce spectrum. While broadcast television may lean left, the national cafeteria menu offers plenty of options on the right. The notion that government officials must supervise editorial choices to ensure citizens hear competing viewpoints in this new age of information abundance is risible. Reasonable people can disagree about The View. Some find it informative. Others find it partisan. Still others may simply change the channel. But in a free society, those decisions belong to viewers holding their remotes, not regulators. Two years ago, the U.S. Supreme Court handed down one of the most consequential administrative-law decisions in decades: Loper Bright Enterprises v. Raimondo. The Court dismantled the Chevron doctrine, under which federal agencies could stretch vague statutes into blank checks for regulatory power. The message from the Court was unmistakable: agencies are not mini-legislatures, and courts must independently determine the limits of agency authority. This was widely seen as a blow against government bureaucrats expanding their power to enact progressive policies. It is far from clear, however, whether courts will now rely on Loper Bright to rein in the expansion of agency power by so-called conservatives. As Ed Whelan reports in National Review, judges on the D.C. Circuit are now probing whether the Federal Communications Commission is attempting to evade meaningful judicial review. This case centers on whether the FCC under Loper Bright can manipulate procedural timing and administrative maneuvering to shield its actions on a merger from court scrutiny. Similar – but far more urgent – questions should be tested on another, more fundamental issue: When will the courts finally rein in the FCC and FTC for abusing the First Amendment? And will Loper Bright help them do it? These questions arise because these agencies are increasingly acting as though “public interest” regulation includes the power to intimidate, pressure, and discipline disfavored speech. Consider the FCC’s escalating flirtation with speech regulation. FCC Chairman Brendan Carr’s threats over ABC’s broadcast licenses have been invoked to try to force late-night host Jimmy Kimmel off the air. Sen. Ted Cruz aptly compared Carr’s rhetoric to a mob threat from Goodfellas: “Nice bar you have here. It’d be a shame if something happened to it.” The FCC has no lawful authority to police “bias,” ideological tone, or political content. The First Amendment does not empower bureaucrats to decide whether broadcasters are too liberal, too conservative, too vulgar, too partisan, or too offensive. Indeed, the whole point of the First Amendment is to deny government officials that authority. And yet the FCC increasingly behaves as though broadcast licenses are contingent on political obedience. The FTC under Chairman Andrew Ferguson has been moving in a similarly dangerous direction. As we previously reported, the FTC is attempting to weaponize consumer-protection laws against news organizations and media-rating firms whose viewpoints or editorial decisions offend those in power. The FTC’s theory appears to be that editorial judgments can somehow become “deceptive practices” subject to federal oversight. That is exactly the kind of expansion of agency authority – with no statutory justification – that Loper Bright sought to restrict. The danger of speech regulation transcends party. Republicans may enjoy seeing pressure applied to progressive media figures today. Democrats may applaud investigations into conservative outlets tomorrow. But once government acquires the habit of regulating speech indirectly through licensing threats, merger leverage, investigations, or administrative harassment, everyone’s freedoms become contingent on who currently controls the bureaucracy. Fortunately, courts can use the standards of Loper Bright to stop the creation of a permanent administrative state increasingly detached from constitutional limits. This precedent can end the use of the phrase “public interest” as a magical incantation that authorizes speech control. The FCC was not created to supervise political dialogue. The FTC was not established to referee journalism. Neither agency possesses constitutional authority to pressure Americans into acceptable speech. Nor should courts permit agencies to evade review through procedural gamesmanship, as the D.C. Circuit now appears increasingly skeptical of permitting. The judiciary has begun reclaiming its role in policing administrative overreach. But reclaiming that role means more than narrowing Chevron deference. It requires judges willing to tell Brendan Carr and Andrew Ferguson that the First Amendment means what it says. What is left is right, and what is right is left – and both are getting it all wrong. A convergence is taking place between the philosophies of some on the new right and the progressive left that treats social media as a “product” that must be regulated in the best interests of the American people, sweeping aside quaint concerns about the First Amendment guarantee of free speech. We recently covered attempts by the Trump chairmen of the Federal Trade Commission and Federal Communications Commission to regulate journalism by overriding the First Amendment with appeals to consumer protection and airwave regulation. This dovetails nicely with a recent New York Times op-ed by Tim Wu – who led the implementation of progressive policies from inside the Biden White House – arguing that social media is “a defective, hazardous product” that must be regulated “as a matter of public health.” He echoes the reasoning of trial lawyers seeking to hold Meta, Google, Snap, and TikTok liable for harming youth. Wu lists a parade of horribles – “algorithmic recommendations, infinite scroll, auto video play and intermittent reinforcement (in which likes, comments, and refreshed content are rewarded unpredictably rather than consistently).” Put aside, for a moment, the obvious lack of utility of a social media platform that doesn’t guide users to what they want to see, or that requires manual intervention to get something to play. Wu’s point here is that “the very design of social media is intentionally engineered to create compulsions and habits of overuse, regardless of the content provided.” He adds: “Lofty platitudes about free speech ring hollow in the face of teenage depression, self-harm and suicide.” Thus the circle squares, from Trump FTC Chairman Andrew Ferguson, who wants to apply consumer product regulation to Apple News, to Wu, who wants public regulation of social media to make it less harmful. Wu is, to say the least, less than an ardent defender of free speech. He achieved notoriety with an essay that asked, “Is the First Amendment Obsolete?” (Short answer from Wu: yes.) There is also a more thoughtful side to Wu. He is right that American teens are too absorbed by social media, many dangerously so. But the solution, if there is one, could never come from government control of speech. Several years ago, Elizabeth Nolan Brown in Reason magazine summed up the problem with blaming all the ills of the world on algorithms – which are, after all, a way to give users control of the content they see. Brown wrote: “It's no secret that tech companies engineer their platforms to keep people coming back. But this isn't some uniquely nefarious feature of social media businesses. Keeping people engaged and coming back is the crux of entertainment entities from TV networks to amusement parks. “Moreover, critics have the effect of algorithms precisely backward. A world without algorithms would mean kids (and everyone else) encountering more offensive or questionable content.” Brown quoted Meta’s former vice president of Global Affairs, Nick Clegg, who said that without the news feed algorithm, “the first thing that would happen is that people would see more, not less, hate speech; more, not less, misinformation; more, not less, harmful content.” Algorithms pluck what users follow out of a torrent of billions of global messages. Without them, that torrent would hit us all in the face. For reasons spelled out by Brown, Wu’s idea of turning over algorithmic control – and thus speech control – to law enforcement and trial lawyers has no hope of working. The same is true of the efforts of FCC Chairman Brendan Carr and FTC Chairman Andrew Ferguson to force journalists to adhere to their idea of greater ideological balance. If either side ever succeeds in putting their schemes into action, they are sure to be disappointed when their controls fail to deliver the intended results. The obvious answer, to them at least, will be that even more control is needed. Then more. Both ideological extremes are in a race to the bottom. Defenders of the First Amendment must be bolder than ever in declaring that speech is not a product – it is a human right. While missiles are flying and bombs detonating in the Middle East, domestic political rhetoric has predictably become progressively more bombastic and incendiary. As in all wars, the First Amendment will be tested by the desire to shut down speech judged to be warmongering, unpatriotic, or just plain stupid. It was off to the races after New York Mayor Zohran Mamdani called President Trump’s strikes on Iran “a catastrophic escalation in an illegal war of aggression,” adding: “I want to speak directly to Iranian New Yorkers: you are part of the fabric of this city – you are our neighbors, small business owners, students, artists, workers, and community leaders. You will be safe here.” When we read this we had the same thought as millions of other Americans – yes, they will be safe here. No sanctioned religious police will cuff Iranian-American women about the ears if they appear in public without a headscarf on Lexington Avenue, or rape them in a police station if they are arrested. Iranian-American students, artists, and community leaders need not fear being slowly strangled to death by having a steel cable put around their necks before being lifted into the air by a crane. Masih Alinejad, an Iranian-American journalist in New York, shot back at the mayor: “I don’t feel safe in New York listening to someone like you, Mamdani, who sympathizes with the regime that killed more than 30,000 unarmed Iranians in less than 24 hours.” We would add that if Iran’s ambition to build a nuclear bomb is not arrested, then no New Yorker will be safe. But let us leave that point and examine how the First Amendment comes into this debate. We predict that before the cherry blossoms bloom around Washington’s Tidal Basin, official threats will be leveled against the speech rights of critics of the attack on Iran. We also expect a few lonely voices in Hollywood, academia, and other centers of monolithic opinion will be hounded, harassed, and threatened if they dare break with the received views of the cultural cognoscenti. With rhetorical bombs bursting in air, we should keep in mind that the United States has a history of government trying to crack down on “unpatriotic” speech on one side, and violence to end participation in a war on the other. During World War One, the Woodrow Wilson administration secured a 10-year prison sentence against presidential candidate Eugene Debs of the Socialist Party for criticizing America’s entry into that conflict. During the Nixon years, the Weather Underground planted more than two dozen bombs to protest the Vietnam War. In the face of a new war, we should keep in mind that the First Amendment protects speech that is stupid, false, unpatriotic, warmongering, and ungrounded in fact. The hot exchange between Mayor Mamdani and Alinejad shows that speech and counter-speech can be pointed, polemical, and angry – hallmarks of American political speech since before we were a country – without resorting to laws or mob action to punish the speaker for speaking. President Trump said on Monday that the military action against Iran could last for weeks. As events roll forward, we should keep our emotions in check and respect the speech rights of all – even if we have no respect for what is said. Civil libertarians, journalists, and commentators are increasingly alarmed at the lengths to which ICE – the Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency – appears willing to go in response to peaceful protests. ICE has now launched a pressure campaign to force Big Tech to help identify persons who post content deemed “critical” of the agency. ICE is filing hundreds – perhaps thousands – of subpoenas intended to compel tech companies to hand over the identities of Americans behind social media posts. This approach is unprecedented, transforming an exceptional legal maneuver – an emergency procedure designed for crises like child endangerment – into a potential end-run around core First Amendment protections. Americans retain a constitutional right to anonymous speech, a principle woven deeply into American political tradition. The government does not get to strip American speakers of their anonymity simply because their speech is deemed too harsh or inconvenient. Under these legal principles, the First Amendment remains an expansive safeguard for Americans who assemble peaceably to protest – whether on the street or online. Being loud, abrasive, or deeply critical of government power does not strip any citizen of constitutional protection. It certainly doesn’t make them “domestic terrorists” worthy of official surveillance. “The question is not, ‘Is it annoying or frustrating to the officer?’ The question is, ‘Is that annoyance or frustration constitutionally protected?’” law professor Seth Stoughton told NPR. “Criticism of government actions is at the very core of what the First Amendment protects.” Now all these laws, precedents, and norms that protect protest are under heightened pressure because ICE wants names. If ICE succeeds in expanding surveillance of lawful political expression, the FBI, IRS, FTC, SEC, and other agencies will soon seek similar authority. And they will not limit their scrutiny to critics of ICE. They will search for “extremists” of every ideological stripe – pro-choice and pro-life, socialist and MAGA alike – depending on the political winds of the moment. You may support anti-ICE protesters, or you may believe ICE’s mission is essential. That disagreement is precisely the point. Whatever you believe about the Trump administration’s immigration policy, what ICE is attempting to do with social media threatens all Americans. The power claimed today against one set of speakers can just as easily be used tomorrow against you. Anonymity online can be a mask that allows people to say ugly, hateful or untrue things without taking responsibility for them. But it can also be a shield that protects women hiding from abusers, whistleblowers one step ahead of their pursuers, journalists reaching out to confidential sources about wrongdoing, and consumers searching online for answers to questions about their health that they’d rather not have anyone know about. This is why the current effort by the Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agency to use emergency subpoenas to force Big Tech companies to reveal the identities of Americans who make critical posts about ICE is so dangerous. If this practice sticks, it will likely migrate to other federal agencies and erode anonymity online. But the shedding of anonymous speech might come by a different route – not from executive-branch meddling or legislative mistakes, but from lawsuits claiming harms from child internet “addiction.” Dan Frieth of the digital anti-censorship advocacy group, Reclaim The Net, listened to five hours of Meta CEO Mark Zuckerberg’s testimony in a Los Angeles civil case and distilled it to a jarring and important warning – the age of anonymity could be coming to an end at the hands of the trial bar. Zuckerberg testified in one of 1,600 lawsuits over internet addiction. In this case, a woman claimed that at age nine Meta’s Instagram addicted her, plunging her into a hell of anxiety, body dysmorphia, and suicidal thoughts. Frieth notes that the science of internet addiction is “genuinely disputed.” He writes: “None of this means the harms alleged are fabricated. It means the word ‘addiction’ is doing heavy rhetorical and legal work, and the policy consequences are far beyond anything a jury in Los Angeles will decide. “‘Addiction’ is how you get a public health emergency. A public health emergency is how you get emergency powers and make it easier for people to overlook constitutional protections. Emergency powers applied to the internet mean mandatory access controls. And mandatory access controls on the internet mean the end of anonymous and pseudonymous speech. “When social media is classified as a drug, access to it becomes a medical and regulatory matter” justifying “identity verification, access controls, and a surveillance architecture that follows users across every platform and device.” Frieth notes that a win for the plaintiff in this case would strip the current law protecting platform design decisions. This danger is not theoretical. Frieth reports that Zuckerberg repeatedly suggested that any age verification mandate – and thus identification – be shifted from platforms to owners of operating systems. Zuckerberg would thus toss his liability hot potato from Instagram to Apple and Google. “This is more than age verification,” Frieth concludes. “It is a national digital ID layer baked into the two operating systems that run the majority of the world’s smartphones.” There are a lot of competing interests in this case – the safety of children, the nature of the internet, and the value of free speech. Juries don’t have to balance these equities. They can just side with the plaintiff and inadvertently make policy for U.S. tech – and by extension, the world. Any new approach to child safety should not require adults to give up speech rights recognized in this country since Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay wrote collectively as the pseudonymous “Publius” in The Federalist Papers. Will Smith sang of Miami, “the heat is on all night.” In Miami Beach, it’s on all day too, especially if one is brazen enough to criticize the mayor. A couple of weeks ago, resident Raquel Pacheco left a hot comment on a Facebook post by Mayor Steven Meiner. The mayor had posted, “Miami Beach is a safe haven for everyone,” adding, “We will always stand firm against any discrimination.” In response, Pacheco commented: “The guy who consistently calls for the death of all Palestinians, tried to shut down a theater for showing a movie that hurt his feelings, and REFUSES to stand up for the LGBTQ community in any way (even leaves the room when they vote on related matters) wants you to know that you’re all welcome here.” She then added three clown emojis. Two police officers were soon dispatched to knock on her door. One of the officers was later identified in a photo taken at a residential campaign event for the mayor in October. Both Pacheco and Meiner are Jewish, but they have very different views when it comes to Israel, culture, and politics. To be clear, Pacheco’s post was hyperbolic. The mayor has never called for the death of Palestinians. He did, however, attempt to break the city’s lease with a theater that was showing what he considered to be a film that contained anti-Israeli hate speech. As for LGBTQ issues, community reviews are far from glowing. Pacheco’s comment and additional replies contained inaccuracies, sarcasm, and exaggeration. But nothing in it justified a police visit, which could be taken as a thinly disguised attempt at intimidation. Agree or disagree with her words, they strike us as a traditionally, and perhaps uniquely, American approach to political discourse – which is to say, rude – yet guaranteed by an at-times inconvenient First Amendment. This isn’t Germany, after all, or the UK, where comedians are arrested for tasteless jokes. Which leads us to wonder, was it the clown emojis that pushed the mayor and his team over the edge? We wouldn’t envy anyone the task of explaining emojis to James Madison and his fellow founders, but we feel confident they would recognize them as symbolic communication, the substance of all human language, and therefore something to be given a wide berth when confronted by thin-skinned authorities. The only truly scary line uttered by anyone involved in this entire imbroglio came from one of the attending police officers. Whether speaking on behalf of his boss or not, he told Pacheco: “What we’re just trying to prevent is someone else getting agitated or agreeing with the statement.” Send in the clowns. “Give me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely according to conscience, above all liberties.” |
Archives
September 2026
Categories
All
|
ABOUT |
ISSUES |
TAKE ACTION |
RSS Feed