When journalism died, propaganda got a promotion and a corner office
Welcome to the modern American newsroom, where the mission statement has been quietly updated from “All the News That’s Fit to Print” to “All the News That Fits the Narrative.” It’s a place where fact-checkers have become fiction-writers, where journalists have traded their press badges for activist armbands, and where the line between news and propaganda has been so thoroughly erased that even the janitor can’t find it with a mop and a magnifying glass.
If George Orwell were alive today, he’d probably sue for copyright infringement. His Ministry of Truth was supposed to be a warning, not a business plan. Yet here we are, living in an era where our media institutions have embraced their role as reality adjustment specialists with the enthusiasm of a teenager discovering TikTok.
The transformation didn’t happen overnight. It was a gradual process, like watching your favorite uncle slowly turn into that relative who corners you at family gatherings to explain why the moon landing was fake and birds aren’t real. One day you’re getting straightforward news about who, what, when, and where. The next day, you’re being lectured about why asking “why” makes you a bigot.
The Pride and Prejudice of Modern Journalism
Let’s start with the most colorful example of narrative enforcement: Pride Month, or as it’s known in corporate America, “Thirty Days of Mandatory Rainbow Capitalism.” Every June, newsrooms across the country transform into cheerleaders for an ideology that would make a Soviet propagandist blush with envy.
Watch any major news network during Pride Month, and you’ll witness a masterclass in coordinated messaging. Suddenly, every story becomes an opportunity to celebrate “love,” “inclusion,” and “authenticity”—unless, of course, you’re authentically concerned about children being exposed to adult content at drag shows. In that case, your authentic feelings make you an authentic bigot who authentically needs to be silenced.
The coverage follows a predictable pattern: heartwarming stories about brave individuals “living their truth,” stern warnings about the “rising tide of hate,” and breathless reports about the “historic importance” of whatever new boundary is being crossed this year. It’s like watching a month-long infomercial, except instead of selling you a set of steak knives, they’re selling you a worldview.
The most impressive part isn’t the propaganda itself—it’s the coordination. Somehow, newsrooms from coast to coast all decided independently that the same stories were newsworthy, the same language was appropriate, and the same conclusions were obvious. It’s almost as if they were all reading from the same script, which would be concerning if we didn’t know that journalists are far too independent-minded to ever engage in groupthink.
The transgender angle deserves special mention because it represents the media’s most ambitious reality adjustment project to date. They’ve managed to convince a significant portion of the population that biological sex is a social construct, that men can get pregnant, and that questioning any of this makes you literally Hitler. It’s an impressive feat of narrative engineering that would make Edward Bernays weep with pride.
The key to their success has been the strategic deployment of emotional manipulation. Every story about transgender issues follows the same formula: sympathetic individual faces discrimination, society is to blame, anyone who disagrees is motivated by hate. It’s a simple but effective approach that bypasses critical thinking and appeals directly to people’s desire to be compassionate.
What’s particularly clever is how they’ve made the story about everything except the actual issues at stake. Want to discuss the ethics of transitioning children? You’re attacking vulnerable kids. Concerned about biological males in women’s sports? You’re denying people’s humanity. Worried about the long-term effects of experimental treatments? You’re spreading misinformation.
It’s a rhetorical strategy that would make a debate coach proud: reframe every substantive question as a moral failing on the part of the questioner. Don’t engage with the argument; attack the arguer. Don’t address the evidence; question the motives of those presenting it.
The COVID Chronicles: A Masterclass in Narrative Control
But if Pride Month represents the media’s monthly propaganda push, COVID-19 was their Super Bowl, World Series, and Olympics all rolled into one. For two years, American newsrooms demonstrated just how effectively they could shape public perception, suppress dissent, and enforce compliance with official narratives.
The transformation was remarkable to witness. Overnight, journalists who had spent their careers questioning authority became enthusiastic enforcers of government messaging. Reporters who had built reputations on skepticism suddenly treated public health officials like infallible prophets. News anchors who had made careers out of holding powerful people accountable became attack dogs against anyone who dared question the approved narrative.
The “two weeks to flatten the curve” became two years to flatten the economy, and the media cheered every step of the way. Lockdowns that were supposed to be temporary became indefinite, and journalists treated anyone questioning their effectiveness like they were advocating for mass murder. Masks went from “not necessary” to “essential” to “a symbol of caring about others,” and the media memory-holed their previous reporting with the efficiency of a professional document shredder.
The lab leak theory provides perhaps the best example of how narrative control actually works in practice. For over a year, suggesting that COVID-19 might have originated in a laboratory was treated as a conspiracy theory worthy of censorship. Social media platforms banned users for discussing it. News outlets dismissed it as “debunked.” Fact-checkers labeled it “false information.”
Then, suddenly, it became acceptable to discuss. What changed? Not the evidence—much of which had been available from the beginning. What changed was the political utility of the theory. Once it became useful for criticizing China rather than questioning the initial response, the lab leak theory was quietly rehabilitated from conspiracy theory to “plausible hypothesis.”
The speed of this transformation was breathtaking. One day, you were a dangerous conspiracy theorist for suggesting the virus might have come from a lab. The next day, you were a reasonable person asking legitimate questions. The evidence didn’t change, but the narrative did, and the media adjusted accordingly.
Perhaps most impressively, they managed to do this without acknowledging that anything had changed at all. There was no mea culpa, no admission of error, no reflection on how they had gotten it so wrong. The previous narrative simply disappeared down the memory hole, replaced by the new approved version of events.
The hydroxychloroquine saga followed a similar pattern. A drug that had been safely used for decades suddenly became dangerous when Donald Trump mentioned it. Studies showing potential benefits were ignored or dismissed. Doctors prescribing it were attacked. The media treated it like it was poison, despite its long history of safe use.
Then, quietly, after the election, studies began emerging showing that early treatment with hydroxychloroquine might indeed be beneficial. But by then, the narrative had served its purpose. Trump had been discredited, his supporters had been mocked, and the approved treatments had been established. Mission accomplished.
The Biden Files: Hiding in Plain Sight
If COVID coverage demonstrated the media’s ability to enforce a narrative, the handling of Joe Biden’s cognitive decline showcased their talent for hiding one. For years, anyone with functioning eyeballs could see that the man was experiencing significant mental deterioration. But according to our reality adjustment specialists, he was “sharp as a tack,” “firing on all cylinders,” and “more energetic than staffers half his age.”
The gaslighting was so comprehensive it became almost artistic. Videos showing Biden confused, disoriented, or clearly struggling were either ignored, explained away, or blamed on “cheap fakes” and “right-wing manipulation.” Press conferences where he appeared lost were described as “commanding performances.” Speeches where he forgot where he was were praised as “heartfelt and authentic.”
The most impressive part was how they managed to maintain this fiction while simultaneously managing his public appearances to minimize exposure. They limited his press conferences, controlled his schedule, and carefully choreographed his public events. Then they told us he was the most accessible president in history.
When Biden would have a particularly bad day—wandering off stage, shaking hands with invisible people, or forgetting the name of his own Defense Secretary—the media would spring into action with explanations that would make a creative writing professor proud. He wasn’t confused; he was “taking a moment to gather his thoughts.” He wasn’t lost; he was “surveying the crowd.” He wasn’t having a senior moment; he was “being authentic and relatable.”
The debate with Trump finally made the fiction impossible to maintain, but even then, the media’s first instinct was to blame everyone except themselves. It was a “bad night.” It was the altitude. It was a cold. It was anything except the obvious explanation that they had been lying to the American people for years.
The speed with which they pivoted from “Biden is sharp as a tack” to “Biden should step aside for the good of the country” was truly something to behold. One day, questioning his mental acuity was a right-wing conspiracy theory. The next day, it was a patriotic duty. The narrative changed overnight, and they expected everyone to pretend they hadn’t spent years saying the exact opposite.
The Campaign Chronicles: Manufacturing Consensus
The 2024 campaign season provided the media with fresh opportunities to demonstrate their narrative enforcement skills. The transformation of Kamala Harris from unpopular vice president to “joyful warrior” happened so quickly it gave viewers whiplash.
Suddenly, the woman who had been polling in single digits during her presidential campaign became a dynamic leader ready to take on the challenges facing America. Her word salads became “thoughtful responses.” Her cackling became “infectious laughter.” Her complete lack of policy specifics became “focusing on what matters to real people.”
The media’s enthusiasm for Harris was so over-the-top it bordered on parody. Every speech was “powerful.” Every appearance was “commanding.” Every policy position was “exactly what America needs.” It was like watching a group of teenagers gush over their favorite pop star, except these were supposed to be serious journalists covering the most important election in American history.
The contrast with their coverage of Trump was so stark it would have been funny if it weren’t so obviously coordinated. Every Trump rally was a “dark” gathering of “extremists.” Every Trump policy was “dangerous” or “unprecedented.” Every Trump statement was either a “lie” or a “threat to democracy.”
The fact-checking operation during the campaign was particularly revealing. Trump’s statements were subjected to microscopic analysis, with fact-checkers parsing every word for potential inaccuracies. Harris’s statements, meanwhile, were given the benefit of every doubt, with fact-checkers bending over backward to find ways to rate obviously false claims as “mostly true” or “needs context.”
The abortion issue provided a perfect example of how this worked in practice. When Trump made statements about abortion policy, fact-checkers would immediately spring into action with detailed analyses of state laws, federal regulations, and constitutional precedents. When Harris claimed that Trump wanted to ban abortion nationwide—a claim with no basis in reality—fact-checkers would explain that while this wasn’t technically true, it reflected the “spirit” of his position.
The immigration coverage followed a similar pattern. Trump’s claims about border security were subjected to intense scrutiny, with fact-checkers providing detailed statistics about border crossings, deportation numbers, and policy implementations. Harris’s claims about the border being “secure” were treated as matters of opinion rather than factual assertions that could be verified or debunked.
The Coordination Question: Coincidence or Conspiracy?
The most remarkable thing about all of this isn’t any individual example of bias or narrative enforcement. It’s the coordination. Somehow, newsrooms across the country consistently arrive at the same conclusions, use the same language, and emphasize the same stories. It’s almost as if they’re all working from the same playbook.
Of course, suggesting that there might be coordination between news organizations is itself a conspiracy theory. We’re told that the remarkable similarity in coverage is simply the result of professional journalists independently arriving at the same conclusions because they’re all committed to truth and accuracy.
This explanation might be more convincing if the “independent” conclusions weren’t so consistently aligned with Democratic Party talking points. It might be more believable if the timing of narrative shifts didn’t so perfectly coincide with political needs. It might be more credible if the language used by different outlets wasn’t so remarkably similar.
But we’re assured that this is all just a coincidence. The fact that CNN, MSNBC, The New York Times, The Washington Post, and dozens of other outlets all decided independently to use the phrase “mostly peaceful protests” to describe riots is just evidence of their shared commitment to accuracy. The fact that they all simultaneously decided that the lab leak theory was worth investigating right after it became politically useful is just good journalism.
The morning show coordination is particularly impressive. Somehow, the hosts of different networks consistently emphasize the same stories, use similar language, and reach identical conclusions. It’s almost as if they all attended the same editorial meeting, which would be impossible since they work for competing organizations that would never coordinate their coverage.
The social media aspect adds another layer to the coordination. Journalists from different outlets consistently share and amplify each other’s stories, creating the impression of widespread agreement among independent sources. When one outlet publishes a story supporting the approved narrative, journalists from other outlets immediately share it as evidence that the story is true. It’s a circular validation system that would make a pyramid scheme operator proud.
The Technology of Truth: Digital Age Propaganda
The digital age has provided our reality adjustment specialists with tools that would have made Joseph Goebbels weep with envy. Social media platforms can suppress stories that contradict the narrative. Search engines can bury inconvenient information. Fact-checkers can label dissenting opinions as “misinformation.”
The beauty of the system is that it doesn’t look like censorship. Stories aren’t banned; they’re just “reduced in distribution.” Dissenting voices aren’t silenced; they’re just “fact-checked.” Alternative viewpoints aren’t suppressed; they’re just labeled as “lacking context.”
The fact-checking industry deserves special recognition for its contribution to narrative enforcement. These organizations have managed to position themselves as neutral arbiters of truth while consistently supporting one side of every political debate. They’ve turned opinion into fact and fact into opinion, depending on what serves the narrative.
The “lacking context” label is particularly clever. It allows fact-checkers to acknowledge that a statement is technically true while still discrediting it. The context that’s “lacking” is usually just information that would make the approved narrative look bad, but by labeling it as missing context, they can maintain the pretense of objectivity while serving their political masters.
The “mostly true” rating is another masterpiece of propaganda technique. It allows fact-checkers to acknowledge obvious lies while still giving them a passing grade. A statement can be completely false in every meaningful way, but if there’s some tiny kernel of truth buried somewhere in the lie, it can be rated as “mostly true.”
The Musk Disruption: When Free Speech Crashed the Party
Just when it seemed like the Reality Adjustment Bureau had achieved total information dominance, along came Elon Musk with forty-four billion dollars and an apparently insatiable appetite for chaos. His acquisition of Twitter in October 2022 and subsequent transformation into “X” represented the most significant disruption to the established information control system since the invention of the printing press—and the establishment’s reaction was about what you’d expect when someone crashes their carefully orchestrated dinner party.
The panic was immediate and palpable. Suddenly, the platform that had served as the primary coordination hub for narrative enforcement was under the control of someone who seemed to think that free speech meant, well, actual free speech. The horror! Within hours of the acquisition, journalists, politicians, and activists were predicting the end of democracy, the rise of hate speech, and the collapse of civilization as we know it.
The irony was delicious. The same people who had spent years insisting that private companies had the right to moderate content however they wanted suddenly discovered a passionate interest in platform governance when the platform wasn’t governed by people who shared their political views. The same voices that had cheered the suppression of the Hunter Biden laptop story were now deeply concerned about the potential for misinformation to spread unchecked.
Musk’s approach was refreshingly straightforward: he released the Twitter Files, a series of internal documents that revealed the extent to which the platform had been coordinating with government agencies and political operatives to suppress information and manipulate public discourse. The revelations were stunning, even for those who had suspected that something like this was happening.
The files showed how Twitter had worked with the FBI to suppress the Hunter Biden laptop story during the 2020 election. They revealed how government agencies had been flagging accounts and content for removal. They documented how the platform had been used to amplify certain narratives while suppressing others. In short, they provided a behind-the-scenes look at how the Reality Adjustment Bureau actually operated.
The response from the establishment was predictable: attack the messenger, ignore the message, and double down on the narrative that this was all just a right-wing conspiracy theory. The same journalists who had built careers on leaked documents suddenly lost interest in leaked documents when those documents revealed their own complicity in information manipulation.
The transformation of Twitter into X represented more than just a change in ownership—it was a fundamental shift in the information ecosystem. Suddenly, stories that had been suppressed could be shared. Voices that had been silenced could speak. Perspectives that had been marginalized could find an audience.
The impact was immediate and dramatic. The COVID lab leak theory, which had been banned from discussion on the platform, suddenly became a topic of open debate. The Hunter Biden laptop story, which had been suppressed during the election, was finally allowed to circulate freely. Conservative voices that had been shadow-banned or suspended found their reach restored.
Perhaps most importantly, the platform began to function as an actual marketplace of ideas rather than a curated exhibition of approved thoughts. Users could see all sides of controversial issues instead of just the side that the previous management wanted them to see. The algorithm was adjusted to promote engagement rather than ideology, leading to a more diverse and dynamic information environment.
The establishment’s response was to flee the platform en masse, claiming that it had become a cesspool of hate and misinformation. What they really meant was that it had become a place where their narratives could be challenged and their authority questioned. The same people who had celebrated Twitter as a vital tool for democracy when it was suppressing conservative voices suddenly decided it was a threat to democracy when it allowed those voices to be heard.
The migration to alternative platforms like Threads and Bluesky was particularly amusing to watch. These platforms were explicitly designed to recreate the echo chamber environment that had existed on pre-Musk Twitter, complete with aggressive content moderation and ideological conformity. It was like watching people flee a diverse neighborhood to move to a gated community where everyone thinks exactly like they do.
The media coverage of the Twitter transformation was a masterclass in narrative manipulation. Every change was portrayed as dangerous, every policy adjustment was described as extremist, and every restoration of a previously banned account was treated as evidence of the platform’s descent into chaos. The fact that the platform was actually becoming more open and diverse was somehow spun as evidence that it was becoming more closed and extreme.
The “advertiser exodus” became a particular focus of media attention, with outlets breathlessly reporting on every company that paused its advertising on the platform. What they failed to mention was that many of these companies had been pressured by activist groups to withdraw their support, and that the platform’s user engagement was actually increasing even as some advertisers departed.
The European Union’s threats to regulate the platform under its Digital Services Act provided another example of how the establishment responds to challenges to its information control. Suddenly, the same people who had spent years criticizing authoritarian regimes for censoring social media were cheering on European bureaucrats for threatening to do exactly the same thing.
The transformation of X also revealed the extent to which the previous Twitter had been integrated into the broader information control system. Journalists had relied on the platform not just to share their stories but to coordinate their messaging and amplify their narratives. When that coordination became more difficult, the quality and consistency of their propaganda efforts noticeably declined.
The Community Notes feature, which allowed users to fact-check posts in real-time, was particularly disruptive to the established order. Suddenly, misleading claims from politicians and journalists could be corrected immediately by users with access to primary sources and relevant context. The fact-checking monopoly that had been held by approved organizations was broken, democratizing the process of information verification.
The psychological impact of the Twitter transformation extended far beyond the platform itself. For years, conservatives and free speech advocates had felt like they were fighting a losing battle against an increasingly coordinated information control system. The success of Musk’s acquisition proved that the system wasn’t as invincible as it had seemed, and that determined individuals with sufficient resources could still make a difference.
The ripple effects were felt across the entire information ecosystem. Other platforms began to reconsider their content moderation policies, fearing that they might lose users to a more open competitor. Politicians became more cautious about pressuring social media companies to suppress information, knowing that such pressure might be exposed and criticized. Journalists became more careful about their coordination efforts, aware that their private communications might someday become public.
Perhaps most importantly, the Twitter transformation demonstrated that the narrative enforcement system depended on the voluntary cooperation of platform owners and operators. When that cooperation was withdrawn, the system’s power was significantly diminished. The Reality Adjustment Bureau was revealed to be less of an all-powerful institution and more of a fragile coalition that could be disrupted by a single determined actor.
The long-term implications of the Musk disruption are still unfolding, but the immediate impact was clear: the information control system that had seemed so dominant and permanent was actually vulnerable to challenge and change. The forty-four billion dollar investment in free speech had paid dividends far beyond what anyone had expected, proving that sometimes the best way to fight propaganda is simply to allow people to speak freely.
The Psychology of Narrative Enforcement
What makes all of this possible isn’t just institutional coordination or technological manipulation. It’s the psychology of the people consuming the information. Most people want to believe that their preferred news sources are telling them the truth. They want to trust that journalists are committed to accuracy and objectivity.
This desire to trust makes people remarkably resistant to evidence that their trusted sources might be misleading them. When presented with clear examples of bias or misinformation from their preferred outlets, people are more likely to rationalize the behavior than to question their trust.
The tribal nature of modern politics makes this even worse. People don’t just want accurate information; they want information that confirms their existing beliefs and makes them feel good about their political choices. News outlets that provide this kind of validation are rewarded with loyalty and viewership, while those that challenge their audience’s preconceptions are punished with declining ratings.
This creates a perverse incentive structure where accuracy becomes less important than audience satisfaction. News outlets that tell people what they want to hear thrive, while those that tell people what they need to hear struggle. The market rewards propaganda and punishes journalism.
The social pressure aspect can’t be ignored either. In many social and professional circles, expressing skepticism about approved narratives can result in social ostracism or professional consequences. This creates a chilling effect where people self-censor rather than risk being labeled as conspiracy theorists or bigots.
The Cost of Narrative Enforcement
The long-term consequences of this system are profound and troubling. When news organizations abandon their role as neutral information providers and embrace their function as narrative enforcers, they undermine the foundation of democratic discourse.
Democracy depends on an informed citizenry making decisions based on accurate information. When that information is filtered through ideological lenses and shaped by political considerations, the democratic process becomes corrupted. People can’t make good decisions if they don’t have good information.
The erosion of trust in institutions is another serious consequence. When people realize they’ve been misled by organizations they trusted, they don’t just lose faith in those specific organizations. They lose faith in the entire system. This creates space for actual conspiracy theories and misinformation to flourish.
The polarization of society is perhaps the most visible consequence. When different groups of people are consuming completely different versions of reality, it becomes impossible to have productive political discourse. How can you debate policy with someone who doesn’t share your basic understanding of facts?
The international implications are also concerning. When American news organizations abandon objectivity and embrace propaganda, it undermines America’s credibility on the world stage. How can we criticize authoritarian regimes for controlling their media when our own media has become a tool of political control?
The Path Forward: Reclaiming Reality
The solution to this problem isn’t simple, but it starts with recognition. People need to understand that they’re being manipulated and that the organizations they trust are not serving their interests. This requires a level of media literacy that most people currently lack.
Consumers of news need to become more skeptical and more demanding. They need to seek out multiple sources, question narratives that seem too convenient, and reward outlets that prioritize accuracy over ideology. This means being willing to consume information that challenges their preconceptions and makes them uncomfortable.
News organizations need to rediscover their mission. This means hiring journalists who are committed to truth rather than activism, implementing editorial standards that prioritize accuracy over narrative consistency, and being willing to report stories that contradict their preferred political outcomes.
The technology platforms need to step back from their role as arbiters of truth. Instead of suppressing information they don’t like, they should provide users with tools to evaluate information for themselves. Transparency should replace censorship, and competition should replace coordination.
Most importantly, we need to remember that the goal of journalism isn’t to make people feel good or to advance political causes. The goal is to provide accurate information that allows people to make informed decisions about their lives and their society.
Conclusion: The Reality Adjustment Bureau’s Final Report
The transformation of American newsrooms from information providers to narrative enforcers represents one of the most significant threats to democratic governance in our time. When the institutions responsible for informing the public become tools of political manipulation, the entire system becomes corrupted.
The examples we’ve discussed—from Pride Month propaganda to COVID narrative enforcement to Biden cognitive decline cover-ups—are just the tip of the iceberg. They represent a systematic abandonment of journalistic principles in favor of political activism.
The coordination between outlets, the suppression of dissenting voices, and the manipulation of public opinion through selective reporting and fact-checking represent a level of propaganda sophistication that would have impressed the totalitarian regimes of the 20th century.
But unlike those regimes, our propaganda system operates with the consent of its victims. People choose to consume biased information because it makes them feel good about their political choices. They reward outlets that tell them what they want to hear and punish those that challenge their assumptions.
This makes the problem both more insidious and more difficult to solve. You can’t simply replace the leadership of news organizations and expect things to change. The entire incentive structure needs to be reformed, and that requires changes in both the supply and demand sides of the information market.
The Reality Adjustment Bureau is real, and it’s operating in plain sight. The question is whether the American people will recognize what’s happening and demand something better, or whether they’ll continue to accept propaganda as long as it confirms their biases and makes them feel good about themselves.
The choice is ours, but we need to make it soon. Democracy can’t survive in a post-truth environment, and we’re rapidly approaching the point where truth becomes whatever the people in charge say it is.
George Orwell’s Ministry of Truth was supposed to be a warning, not an instruction manual. It’s time we started treating it that way.