Television hosts say things that push a hot button or two. Pressure comes down from bosses who want favorable treatment in current or future dealings with the federal government. Hosts don’t back down. Hosts’ bosses aren’t impressed; shows are pulled from the airwaves.
You’ll recognize this tale of Stephen Colbert at CBS and Jimmy Kimmel at ABC. And the dangers piled on late in the week: President Donald Trump said on his way back from the UK that the Federal Communications Commission should think about revoking broadcast licenses when late-night hosts speak negatively about him. It’s not a reach to suggest that Colbert’s and Kimmel’s networks were feeling pressure over their licenses, issued by the FCC, which has strayed from its nonpartisan roots since Chairman Brendan Carr was installed. In fact, while The Washington Post stated that Carr had disapproved of government efforts to “inject partisan politics into our licensing process,” that doesn’t seem to be his plan now; he specifically criticized Kimmel over his remarks about the death of Charlie Kirk, whom the president admired.
We have tipped into dangerous territory. If government pressure did come to bear, that violates the First Amendment, particularly the part that states “Congress shall make no law … abridging freedom of speech.” It’s in the Constitution. It’s not debatable. It’s particularly shocking that it happened again — not even 60 years after CBS canned Dick and Tom Smothers because their “Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour” made powerful people angry.
The brothers dared address things like the Vietnam War and racism and saw themselves as anti-establishment thought leaders. They gave performance time to Harry Belafonte, Jefferson Airplane, and Peter, Paul and Mary, who were considered highly controversial by network execs, conservative TV audiences and President Richard Nixon. Even though the brothers attracted a flock of younger viewers — whose parents were watching “Bonanza” on NBC during the “Smothers Brothers” time slot — CBS eventually demanded they submit shows days ahead of airtime for review. They didn’t surrender footage for pre-approval, and that was that. The show that replaced the socially relevant “Comedy Hour”? “Hee Haw.”
President Nixon did not publicly urge or warn that the Smothers Brothers could be fired, as President Donald Trump alluded to in social posts about current TV hosts, but he got as close to that as possible — he put them on his enemies list. (Think, for a minute, if Nixon had been able to post on X.) It was enough, with other behind-the-scenes pressure, to raise eyebrows and wrinkle foreheads at CBS. This tale had sort of a happy ending: The Smothers brothers went to court for the money they lost because of the canceled season — and won.
“The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour” became so interwoven with the First Amendment that it was taught for decades in journalism and media law classes. It was presented as something far from here, a “can you believe Nixon and those fuddy-duddies” moment. It was important, yes, but as a milepost passed on the march to protect speech from government interference. It surely wasn’t ever going to be “a thing.”
CBS’ (and at some level, Nixon’s) treatment of Tom and Dick Smothers was presented along with New York Times v. Sullivan, Brandenburg v. Ohio and the Skokie Affair as an example of what happens when one person, or a few people, get to decide what is “acceptable.” These cases proved that the First Amendment clearly spells out who gets to make that decision (hint: It isn’t the government). Such cases also made clear that in this country, the law doesn’t tolerate “prior restraint” (any government action that stops or prevents expression before it happens) and the resulting “chilling effect” (fear of engaging in certain activities because of vaguely interpreted laws or previous censorship).
The much-younger me who sat in journalism classes was outraged that CBS did such a thing back in the 1960s, and would be outraged if she knew this would happen again.
The much-older me is outraged.
The First Amendment is at the core of what I do and what my colleagues in newsrooms across the nation do. It’s what allows us to investigate and publish evidence of wrongdoing at all levels, from local school board spending to the Watergate break-in to abuse in the Catholic Church. It’s what allows us to publish opinions that officials may not like. Just as important, The First also allows us to peaceably assemble, worship as we please and petition the government for redress of wrongs. We can think what we like and express what we like with very few parameters. It is the essence of democracy. We are free to talk back to our leaders.
What is so egregious about the fear these actions have spawned is that we are not allowed to make up our own minds about what others think. Commentary about Kirk’s murder that doesn’t agree with the administration’s is being punished. That fear is apparent in the string of firings and suspensions of people who posted truly innocuous things in the wake of Kirk’s assassination.
Society has to bear some of the blame here. The social media mobs that ensured books were canceled before they were even published and that people lost their livelihoods over views that didn’t fit a particular narrative are no better than the people making these decisions today. Newsrooms see this too; the comments and emails nowadays tend to tilt toward, “I don’t like this so you shouldn’t have published it” and “You deserve to go out of business because you publish garbage like (insert topic here).” Really? And we wonder why the president and his attorney general feel emboldened to label whatever they don’t like as hate speech.
If businesses buckle under pressure, or even embrace the idea that they must agree with what one person finds acceptable, it bodes ill for the rest of us. Stifling of free speech has gone on and endures in other countries; dictators through the ages have been fond of attacking — and imprisoning and killing — voices that didn’t agree with the regime. It may seem overly dramatic to compare those martyrs to truth with comedians who lost their jobs and can find other ones, but the intent behind it is the same: One party, one person, decides what people should know. And the law ceases to be an obstacle.
Editor’s note: This column’s headline has been changed to reflect Jimmy Kimmel’s status.
