They’re lynching NPR, PBS; public media is necessary for our republic
WBEZ app. Image: Screenshot.
In the ongoing culture wars that seek to divide rather than unify, few institutions have come under fire quite like public media.
From accusations of bias to cries of irrelevance, NPR and PBS are regularly attacked by those who either do not listen or do not understand the role of public journalism in American life.
But for many of us—for people whose voices are too often sidelined or altogether silenced—public media is not just important.
It’s essential.
It’s the only place where we can hear our stories told with dignity, complexity, and care.
As a gay man, a Filipino American, and someone born in Hawai‘i with indigenous roots, I know firsthand how rare it is to feel fully seen in mainstream media.
Commercial newsrooms, driven by ratings and ad revenue, don’t often carve out space for communities like mine.
We are not deemed profitable enough.
Our stories are “niche.”
Our voices are “special interest.”
But on public radio and television, we are not a side story—we are part of the American story.
I think often about WBEZ Chicago’s Reset—a public affairs program that has not only acknowledged the overlapping layers of my identity but uplifted them.
Where else in this city can I hear in-depth, respectful conversations that speak to the experiences of LGBTQ people of color?
Where else are the voices of Hawaiian-born folks or Filipino Americans given the time and space to talk about what matters to us?
Reset doesn’t just talk about us—it talks with us. That is the public media difference.
And this difference isn’t accidental.
Public media outlets like NPR and PBS are structured to serve the public interest, not corporate shareholders. Their very existence is rooted in the idea that access to high-quality, fact-based journalism is a public good.
That some stories are worth telling even if they don’t generate profit.
That all Americans, regardless of who they are or where they come from, deserve to be informed—not manipulated, not marketed to, but informed.
Critics love to cherry-pick content to claim that NPR or PBS is “liberal” or “woke.” But if you actually listen, you’ll hear something much more difficult to box in: depth, nuance, and intentional balance.
I’ve heard conservative thinkers interviewed on Morning Edition, All Things Considered, and 1A. I’ve heard serious, thoughtful debates between opposing viewpoints, presented without shouting or sensationalism.
That balance doesn’t happen by accident. It is curated with care.
Public media is one of the last bastions of trust in an increasingly distrustful world. It’s not perfect—nothing is—but it tries.
And that effort matters, especially in a time when facts themselves are under siege.
When disinformation is weaponized.
When polarization is the currency of political power.
In that environment, the steady voice of public media is more than comforting—it’s necessary.
So yes, we must support NPR and PBS. Not just with our ears and eyes, but with our wallets, our voices, and our votes. Because without them, the voices of so many—including mine—risk being drowned out completely.
Public media doesn’t exist to entertain or enrage.
It exists to inform, to reflect, and to serve.
That may not make headlines, but it makes a difference.
And that difference matters—to all of us.
I’m a monthly sustaining donor of my local NPR station, WBEZ. Please join me in making a contribution to keep NPR on-air: https://www.npr.org/donations/support