Yesterday, the New York Times editorial board published a plea for election heroes: This Election Will Need More Heroes,” in which the editors oh so rightly call for political courage in defending American democracy. They praise figures like Nebraska state Sen Mike McDonnell, Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger, Maricopa County recorder Stephen Richer, Georgia election workers Ruby Freeman and Shaye Moss, Colorado judge Matthew Barrett, former Arizona House speaker Rusty Bowers, Liz Cheney, Mitt Romney Mike Pence, and others who stood up to Trump’s election lies. But there's a glaring irony in this piece— while The Times’ editorial board is asking for political heroes, what about the role of the media, including The Times itself, in this ongoing crisis? Shouldn’t we be asking for heroes in journalism too?
For years, the New York Times has been at the center of a debate over how the mainstream media has treated Señor T’s lies. Every sentient being knows that the paper— and much of the media establishment— gave far too much oxygen to his falsehoods, allowing his fabrications to take root in the public discourse. The Times led the way in reporting Trump’s claims without clear, immediate fact-checking, presenting them as if they were merely "another side" of a political debate. The result? Many of Trump’s supporters became entrenched in the false belief that the 2020 election was stolen.
Even going back to Trump’s infamous rise to political prominence with the “birther” conspiracy, which claimed Barack Obama was not born in the U.S. Early coverage from The Times and other outlets often treated this as a political curiosity, giving it far more attention than it deserved. This pattern continued into his presidency, when Trump’s false claims about everything from crowd sizes to voter fraud were covered without sufficient emphasis on their outright falseness.
And, by the way the media’s— The Times' in particular— own track record, especially in the 2016 election, casts another shadow over its editors’ current call for heroism. One need only look back to their obsessive coverage of Hillary Clinton's emails compared to the far more restrained and fleeting attention given to Trump’s almost daily torrent of lies and outrages. This imbalance raises serious questions about media accountability during one of the most consequential elections in U.S. history. Consider the numbers: between July 2015 and Election Day in 2016, the New York Times ran front-page stories on Clinton’s emails on average every few days. The email controversy became a symbolic stand-in for larger, less tangible anxieties about Clinton, her transparency, and her trustworthiness. Yet, despite the FBI’s eventual conclusion that no charges were warranted, this drumbeat of coverage created a narrative of scandal that never quite dissipated. On the other hand, Trump’s numerous scandals— from his refusal to release tax returns to his extensive history of bankruptcies, racism and sexual assault allegations— always received shorter, less persistent coverage. This allowed Trump to continue framing himself as an outsider unfairly maligned by the “mainstream media,” while Clinton was weighed down by a singular issue blown far out of proportion.
The disparity didn’t stop with email coverage. Even when Trump lied openly, The Times and other outlets always hesitated to use the word “lie” directly until late in his presidency, opting instead for euphemisms like “falsehoods” or “misstatements.” They still do to this day. This cautious language, coupled with a tendency to move quickly from one scandal to the next without holding onto any particular outrage, contributed to what some have termed “scandal fatigue.” Trump's endless barrage of untruths and abuses created a kind of numbing effect, where even serious offenses became part of the chaotic background noise, often forgotten as soon as the next lie surfaced. This approach allows Trump’s behavior to become normalized over time, while Clinton’s email story was allowed to fester, shaping the public’s perception of her in a much more damaging way.
This lopsided coverage is a perfect example of why the media, including The Times, needs to show more courage— not just in amplifying the truth, but in staying with the truth long enough for it to have real impact. Yesterday’s editorial recognizes the need for political heroes to defend our democracy, but it’s time for the media to reflect on its own role and adopt a more courageous approach to the truth, even when it's uncomfortable to do so.
To its credit, The Times eventually began adopting a more critical stance, and by 2020, they were a bit clearer in calling out Trump’s lies. But, let’s face it— in some ways it was too little, too late. They had set the standard for the rest of the mainstream media. And, after years of normalized misinformation, Trump's dangerous narrative about a “stolen” election had already become deeply embedded in the fabric of American politics. The damage was done.
We need media heroes just as much as we need political ones— reporters, editors and publishers who will take a firm stand against the spread of misinformation and propaganda, even when it risks an authoritarian’s ire, alienating some readers or causing political fallout. Journalistic courage isn't just about covering what’s happening; it’s about how it's covered.
The Times has the platform and influence to lead by example, setting a standard for how the media should combat disinformation in real time. Imagine the impact if the paper consistently prioritized truth over false balance, refusing to give equal weight to both sides when one side is clearly built on lies.
As the clock ticks down ’til November, there is no doubt that Trump and his allies will continue their assault on democracy. We need courageous political figures to stand up to this. But we also need courageous journalists to fight for truth. The media cannot merely be spectators in this struggle— they must be participants, wielding the power of factual reporting like a shield to protect the integrity of the democratic process.
Let’s ask for more political heroes—but let’s also ask for more media heroes, starting with The New York Times. By the way, is this shrewd and heroic— or just moronic? The kind of Republicans that Kamala will put on her “bipartisan council of advisers”— apostates like Liz Cheney, Mitt Romney, Jeff Flake, Alberto Gonzales, Chris Christie, Adam Kinzinger… even a Mike Pence or George Bush— are hated by the MAGA base even more Democrats. It’s all part of the uni-party to them. Kamala won’t be putting “respected” Republicans like Steve Bannon, Marjorie Traitor Greene, J.D. Vance, Donald Trump, Jr or Matt Gaetz on her council.
NY Times editors— and readers— may look at a Kamala-Republican as a “hero” but the tens of millions of Trump voters do not. There’s nothing, at least in their minds, “bipartisan,” let alone heroic, about Kamala getting together with any pre-Trump Republicans. She said that “Wherever they come from, I love good ideas. We have to have a healthy two-party system.” What’s the last good idea a Republican had? And a healthy two-party system? Did someone put some crushed up peyote buttons in her coffee?
As for the Democratic base, aren't her transactional, values-free instincts conservative enough without adding more Republicans into the policy and personnel mix?
It wasn't slick willie. It was reagan who ended the FCC doctrines of "equal time" and "fairness", that had only been spottily enforced before him. And after reagan, it's been slick willie, obamanation and biden (and the odd democrap congress) that has refused to reinstate them.
Those doctrines were key to a "free" press that used to, mostly, hold power accountable. Ending them made murdoch and fox possible. Dereg'ing corporations allowed them to become juggernauts.
Bipartisan neoliberalism has turned the "free" press into just another corporate entity with profit as its only motive. Thus, it is left to consumers to determine what is presented. And it turns out that consumers, being dumber than shit, want to see the shit th…