In Defense of Public Broadcasting
What happens when the federal government claws back its budget
Public TV introduced me to friendly voices when I was a child, and for a time, those were the only friendly voices I heard. I learned about friendship from them. Later, it introduced me (and many other Americans) to the joys of Monty Python. And still later, it gave me the unearthly acting talent of Mark Rylance as Thomas Cromwell in the phenomenal Wolf Hall.
This is the moment PBS and NPR have long feared — the one they’ve tried to ward off with tote bags, pledge drives, and Ken Burns box sets. And now, it’s here.
President Trump has finally gotten what he’s long threatened: the gutting of PBS, NPR, and the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. The scaffolding that supports hundreds of local public radio and TV stations — particularly in rural, underserved communities — will start to collapse.
Some stations are already preparing for layoffs. Others are bracing for black screens and dead air.
To be clear, public media won’t vanish overnight. All Things Considered won’t suddenly go silent, and PBS NewsHour won’t disappear tomorrow. But the loss of CPB funding will trigger a slow bleed — fewer programs, fewer reporters, less local journalism, and more stations unable to keep the lights on.
Big-city outlets may weather the storm with emergency fundraisers and donor appeals. But smaller stations — in the plains of Kansas, the hollows of Appalachia, the deserts of New Mexico — have no such cushion. Smoky Hills PBS in Kansas told USA Today the cuts will be “catastrophic.”
This isn’t just about media. It’s about access, equity, and the slow disappearance of the public square. Public broadcasting is often the only source of news, culture, and education in places that commercial media ignore. And that, of course, is part of the problem.
Trump and his allies call public broadcasting biased and obsolete in the streaming age. Anna Gomez, the lone Democrat on the FCC, sees something more sinister. “This isn’t about saving money,” she wrote. “It’s about silencing those who report the news accurately, without fear or favor.”
Let’s not pretend this is a normal budget fight. Let’s not pretend it’s about fiscal restraint. Public broadcasting funding costs roughly one dollar and thirty-five cents per American per year, less than a single fast food combo meal. But that tiny investment reaches everyone, especially where Netflix doesn’t stream, and private media don’t bother to go.
The New York Times editorial board called this what it is: a blow to civic infrastructure. “Public Media Can Be a Lifeline,” they wrote. “Gutting It Hurts Everyone.”
PBS CEO Paula Kerger says the next step is to try and reinsert funding into the next federal budget — a tougher fight, and likely a losing one in the current climate. As it stands, the CPB’s funding starts drying up this fall. The dominoes begin to fall in October.
This is what happens when “public” becomes a dirty word, when truth is framed as bias. When shared knowledge, educational access, and community storytelling are sacrificed on the altar of political grievance.
In 1967, when Congress created public broadcasting, it declared that noncommercial TV and radio — “for instructional, educational, and cultural purposes” — was in the public interest.
Today, that belief has been legislated out of existence.
(With reporting from Brian Stelter, CNN)