In a turbulent October for American media, two major flashpoints have reignited the debate over freedom of the press and the limits of free speech in U.S. broadcasting. On one front, the Pentagon’s latest restrictions on journalistic access have drawn fierce resistance from the nation’s leading news organizations. On another, the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) has again flexed its regulatory muscles, pressuring broadcasters in a move that echoes a long, bipartisan history of governmental influence over what Americans see and hear on their airwaves.
According to The Conversation, FCC Chairman Brendan Carr’s recent public campaign against ABC and late-night host Jimmy Kimmel is only the newest chapter in a saga that stretches back generations. Carr’s displeasure—expressed in speeches, interviews, and congressional testimony—prompted swift changes at ABC, a move reminiscent of previous FCC interventions under both Democratic and Republican administrations. As a media historian explained, “This recurring cycle is made possible by the fact that broadcasting is licensed by the government.” The FCC’s power, first cemented by a 1943 Supreme Court decision, means that there is effectively no First Amendment protection for broadcast content.
Meanwhile, as reported by BBC News, the Pentagon has introduced a sweeping new policy that bars journalists from the building unless they pledge to report only information authorized by the Department of Defense. Major outlets—including The New York Times, The Washington Post, CNN, and others—have rejected the guidelines, arguing that they threaten the very foundation of press freedom. Reporters who refuse to sign the policy by 5:00 p.m. EDT on October 21, 2025, must surrender their credentials and vacate Pentagon facilities.
The Pentagon Press Association has described the move as “an unprecedented message of intimidation,” warning that the policy wrongly suggests it is criminal for Department of Defense employees to speak with the press without explicit permission. “The policy conveys an unprecedented message of intimidation to everyone within the DoD, warning against any unapproved interactions with the press and even suggesting it's criminal to speak without express permission—which plainly, it is not,” the association declared.
Defence Secretary Pete Hegseth, however, has been unapologetic. On social media, he responded to the backlash with a hand-waving emoji—essentially waving goodbye to dissenting reporters. “Pentagon access is a privilege, not a right,” Hegseth stated, adding, “Credentialed press no longer permitted to solicit criminal acts.” The Trump administration has defended the policy as a necessary step to protect national security, with President Donald Trump himself backing the restrictions at a White House meeting. “The press is very dishonest,” Trump said, explaining that the rules were needed because “they can make a mistake and a mistake can be tragic.”
The 21-page Pentagon document outlines requirements that go far beyond previous protocols. Not only must information be approved for public release—even if unclassified—but military personnel are now required to seek authorization before sharing anything with the media. The Pentagon’s chief spokesperson, Sean Parnell, clarified, “The policy does not ask for them to agree, just to acknowledge that they understand what our policy is.” Yet, the chilling effect is undeniable: more than 100 reporters who have long enjoyed unrestricted access to non-classified areas now face a stark choice—comply or lose their ability to report from the Pentagon.
This clampdown is the latest in a series of moves by Hegseth, a former Fox News host who has rebranded the Department of Defense as the Department of War. In May, the Pentagon evicted several major outlets—including The New York Times, NBC News, and CNN—from their office space, reallocating it to outlets such as the New York Post, One America News Network, and Breitbart News Network under a so-called rotation program. The changes have only deepened concerns about the administration’s attitude toward a free and independent press.
The FCC’s parallel drama underscores how regulatory power can be wielded to shape the information landscape. The 1943 Supreme Court case National Broadcasting Co. v. United States established the FCC’s authority on the grounds of “spectrum scarcity”—the idea that the airwaves are a limited public resource. This gave the Commission sweeping powers to license stations “in the public interest, convenience, or necessity,” and to make special regulations for network broadcasting. As a result, the FCC has been able to impose content restrictions such as the Fairness Doctrine (instituted in 1949 to ensure balanced political broadcasting) and to levy fines for obscenity and indecency.
Notably, the FCC’s influence has not been limited to one party or ideology. Under President Franklin D. Roosevelt, Chairman James Lawrence Fly warned networks about censoring news commentators. John F. Kennedy’s Chairman Newton Minow famously decried television as a “vast wasteland,” prompting networks to invest heavily in news and public affairs. In the early 2000s, Republican Chairman Michael Powell promised a “hands-off” approach—except, it turned out, when it came to content regulation. Powell’s FCC imposed a record $1.75 million fine on Clear Channel Communications for Howard Stern’s “indecent” comments, and a $550,000 penalty on CBS for Janet Jackson’s infamous “wardrobe malfunction” during the 2004 Super Bowl. Powell also successfully lobbied Congress to increase the maximum fine for indecency to $3 million for multiple broadcasts.
Chairman Carr’s current actions, then, are part of a well-established pattern. Despite having written in Project 2025—a conservative policy blueprint—that “the FCC should promote freedom of speech … and pro-growth reforms that support a diversity of viewpoints,” Carr’s threats against ABC appeared to contradict those values. “In exploiting the FCC’s licensing power to threaten to penalize speech he found offensive, Carr failed to promote either freedom of speech or diversity of viewpoints,” The Conversation observed.
As both the Pentagon and the FCC cases illustrate, the boundaries of free speech and press freedom in the United States are shaped as much by institutional power as by constitutional principle. The Supreme Court’s 1943 decision continues to separate broadcasting from other forms of mass communication, making it clear that “there’s no ‘free speech’ when it comes to Kimmel, or any other performer, on U.S. airwaves.” Meanwhile, the Pentagon’s new policy poses a direct challenge to the traditional role of the press in holding power to account—especially on matters of national security.
In the end, these events serve as a stark reminder of the structural constraints on free expression in American media. As regulatory activism becomes more popular—sometimes cheered on by partisan supporters—media literacy and public vigilance are more essential than ever. When government agencies threaten or curtail press access, they do so in the name of the American people. The question, then, is whether Americans will demand restraint from their leaders, no matter who holds the reins of power.
