Marjorie Taylor Greene often errs, but not about defunding public broadcasting | Opinion

When U.S. Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene, R-Georgia, makes a pronouncement, I brace for impact the same way I’d prepare for a car or train wreck.

Her bombastic style might be popular with MAGA voters, but it’s frequently a distraction from Republican governing priorities. Occasionally, even the loudest voices land on a truth worth considering.

This time, she’s right − the Corporation for Public Broadcasting (CPB) should be eliminated.

For years, conservatives have argued that taxpayer dollars should not be used to fund media CPB outlets like National Public Radio (NPR) and the Public Broadcasting Service (PBS) because of their politically biased programming and leadership.

To date, Congress has largely avoided those arguments as yet another round of culture war bickering.

NPR's past statements show clear partisanship

In recent testimony before Congress, NPR’s CEO Katherine Maher admitted concern when confronted with the allegation that 100% of her editorial board − 87 members − are registered Democrats. Notably, she did not dispute the allegation.

Regrettably, Maher’s prior public comments have become a political lightning rod.

In 2016, she lamented Hillary Clinton’s use of the terms “boy and girl” as erasing language for non-binary people. In 2020, Maher referred to President Donald Trump as a “deranged racist sociopath.” In a 2022 TED Talk, she infamously stated, “our reverence for the truth might be a distraction that’s getting in the way of finding common ground and getting things done.”

Maher’s political views are quite liberal and particularly well established in spite of her apparent amnesia about the same during her congressional testimony.

It doesn’t matter.

American CEOs with political hot takes are a dime a dozen. The main difference between Maher and her executive peers is that most CEOs run companies which aren’t funded by the American taxpayer. When the person leading a publicly funded media entity openly speaks like a political activist, the premise that NPR offers an unbiased, fair approach to programming doesn’t hold water.

Shockingly, that doesn’t really matter either.

Broadcast landscape has changed as consumer habits have

The CPB shouldn’t exist at all. The First Amendment enshrines a free press to hold government power accountable. A government-funded media apparatus, no matter how unbiased it claims to be, cannot credibly serve that end because political masters hold the financial reins. Government must be able to communicate to the public, but CPB is inherently state programming masquerading as a typical media outlet.

Defenders of NPR and PBS will argue that CPB provides essential programming that wouldn’t otherwise survive in a purely commercial media landscape. That might have been the case in the era of three television networks and a handful of AM radio stations, but the world has changed. The explosion of digital media has shattered any legitimate claim that we need government-funded television or radio to ensure diverse perspectives and high-quality journalism.

Americans today have more media choices than ever before. Streaming services, podcasts, YouTube channels, and independent news sites provide content precisely tailored to every conceivable interest and ideology. If a viewpoint or niche deserves an audience, it can and will find one without taxpayer dollars propping it up.

Testifying with Maher, Alaska Public Media’s Ed Ulman claimed public media may be the only option for rural emergency broadcasts. "We provide potentially life-saving warnings and alerts that are crucial for Alaskans who face threats ranging from extreme weather to earthquakes, landslides and even volcanoes," he said.

While such communications are indeed essential, we have countless ways of providing them which don’t justify the existence of a federal media bureaucracy. Elon Musk’s Starlink comes immediately to mind as a radically more efficient solution for emergency communications than CPB’s $500 million annual cost.

NPR and PBS can survive without the government's dime

Others will contend that NPR and PBS produce valuable content beyond public communications, such as educational programming and cultural shows. The reality is that PBS doesn’t own most of its iconic programs. It secures the rights to run them through acquisition deals. If these programs are truly valuable, the content-hungry modern media marketplace would certainly air them.

Take "Sesame Street," once the flagship defense of public broadcasting, for example.

In 2016, HBO secured rights to first-runs of the popular children’s program with episodes running on PBS several months later. At the end of 2024, Warner Bros. Discovery, the parent company of HBO, opted not to renew the Sesame Street deal. One of the most memorable shows of my childhood is presently homeless. If PBS’s most venerated show can’t find market traction, what does that say about how much Americans value CPB content?

The uncomfortable reality is that NPR and PBS have long since outlived their utility. Now the federal government is simply paying for content whether taxpayers support it or not.

Pulling the plug on CPB funding wouldn’t “silence” NPR or PBS. They could continue to operate with private donations, subscription models, or sponsorships − just like every other media outlet struggling today.

In a free society, the press should hold the government accountable, not be an extension of it. That’s the principle that matters here. And it’s why, despite the messenger, Greene’s argument to eliminate the CPB merits strong consideration.

USA TODAY Network Tennessee Columnist Cameron Smith is a Memphis-born, Brentwood-raised recovering political attorney raising four boys in Nolensville, Tenn., with his particularly patient wife, Justine. Direct outrage or agreement to smith.david.cameron@gmail.com or @DCameronSmith on Twitter. Agree or disagree? Send a letter to the editor to letters@tennessean.com.