Most of media is dying the death of a thousand cuts. But like many things related to Trump administration policies, public broadcasting is being dismantled based on lies, half-truths and misperceptions, animated by decades of conservative disinformation about what the channels deliver and who they serve.
Early Thursday, the Senate passed a rescission package backed by President Trump gutting funding of public broadcasting along with foreign aid programs, eliminating $1.1 billion in federal support to PBS and NPR. The bill moves to the House, amid cheers from conservatives and warnings of dire consequences from opponents.
“This White House is determined to destroy any news outlets that hold the president accountable for his actions,” the advocacy group Free Press Action said in a statement. “But the clawback of money cuts deeper in rural, Tribal and low-income communities that depend on public-broadcasting outlets to get the news and information they need to survive and thrive.”
The Republican campaign against PBS and NPR is nothing new, fueled through the years by twin themes: That public broadcasting joins other mainstream media in evincing a clear liberal bias — and why are we, as conservatives, helping to underwrite that? — and in an age of media abundance far removed from PBS’ founding in 1969, there’s no need to spend money on publicly financed alternatives.
Setting the latter point aside, other than the argument public broadcasting does provide vital services to smaller and rural communities, the notion that PBS and NPR represent wild-eyed bastions of liberalism simply flies in the face of reality, except for a relatively small percentage of its programming. Nevertheless, the perception has taken root among the GOP, unshakably so, stoked by the belief that any negative reporting on Donald Trump reflects “fake news,” and the hard-to-refute sense that when it comes to the president, facts sometimes seem to exhibit a liberal bias.
Admittedly, it’s difficult to engage in a debate about this with those who fall squarely within the pro-Trump camp, among them people who see “Sesame Street” as being too “woke” for seeking to teach kids to accept differences in others.
Yet as casual viewers of PBS or regular NPR listeners can attest (and given the latter’s soothing, sleep-inducing voices, “casual” surely describes a lot of them), public broadcasting offers a wide assortment of options, most of them apolitical.
The news-driven fare represents a modest portion of PBS’ overall content, and benefits from the non-commercial aspect of its existence, in theory, by enabling reporters and documentarians to explore issues in a manner that might not meet the demands of shouting for attention in the commercial space.
Whether that’s PBS’ “NewsHour” or its “Frontline” franchise, NPR’s “Morning Edition” or “All Things Considered,” the tone is invariably sober, straightforward and even-handed in a way that, frankly, sometimes works to its detriment vis-a-vis showier alternatives. That dynamic might explain why a recent Peak Insights survey, released by the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, found that public media is viewed more favorably than its commercial counterparts.
Not to let the facts get in the way of a good time, but according to PBS, the image of PBS viewers as latte-sipping liberal elites also flies in the face of audience data, which has found that three-fifths of PBS viewers live outside urban centers and more than half of its viewing comes from low-income homes.
That latter figure, in particular, makes intuitive sense, since lower-income families might not be able to afford cable or subscribe to a half-dozen streaming services. In addition, PBS has a well-established reputation for providing educational programming for children — the kind that isn’t awash in toy and fast-food ads — which hasn’t stopped GOP politicians, like Texas Sen. Ted Cruz, from attacking those kids shows as “government propaganda” when “Sesame Street” had the temerity to talk to kids about vaccinations.
Nor should it be overlooked that the highest-profile offerings on PBS in recent years, like Ken Burns’ stately documentaries (the next being a 12-part series about the American Revolution), the British drama “Downton Abbey” and other “Masterpiece” fare, have plenty of commercial alternatives, yes, but many of them reside within the premium/streaming space, which means anteing up for the privilege of watching “The Gilded Age” or “Adolescence” on HBO and Netflix, respectively.
PBS has also reported a diverse ideological split among its consumers, with a slight tilt in favor of Democrats (35%) compared to 26% who self-identify as Republicans and 37% who say they are independents. Then again, given the decades-long crusade against public broadcasting among grievance-prone conservatives, the self-reporting among GOP voters might be on the low side, in “I don’t watch that liberal garbage!” fashion.
Although public funding accounts for only a portion of PBS and NPR’s budgets — about 17% in the latter case — the CPB has said losing that support would inflict a serious blow, as PBS CEO Paula Kerger has stated, particularly to stations in small towns that can’t easily tap into corporate sponsorships.
To Trump’s loyal supporters, “Defund PBS,” after years of empty talk by previous Republican administrations, can be positioned as a clear victory, filed under the heading of “Promises made. Promises kept.”
In reality, though, it’s a promise built on falsehoods, something “Frontline” or “All Things Considered” might help debunk, assuming they’re still around and able to do so.