'Secretary Chaos': Iraq veteran slams Hegseth amid yet another Signal app controversy
The Washington Post is reporting that Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth has the Signal messaging app installed on an office computer. This comes after his second controversy with the chat app where he shared information from a top general with his wife and brother. Independent Veterans of America founder and CEO and Iraq veteran Paul Rieckhoff joins Alex Witt to react to this and more.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
CBS News
17 minutes ago
- CBS News
WWII pilot accounted for 82 years after being credited with saving airman's life in deadly crash
A World War II pilot who was remembered for helping fellow servicemembers survive the plane crash that killed him has been accounted for, military officials said this week. Army Air Forces 1st Lt. Charles W. McCook, 23, of Georgetown, Texas, was a member of the 22nd Bombardment Squadron (Medium), 341st Bombardment Group (Medium), 10th Air Force during World War II, the Defense POW/MIA Accounting Agency said in a news release. Before joining the military, McCook had graduated from Southwestern University and came from a family of pilots, according to local newspaper clippings gathered by the DPAA. McCook, nicknamed "Woody," served in China and Burma, according to newspaper clippings. He was one of 20 officers and enlisted men credited for a mission that air-dropped supplies to Allied forces battling Japanese troops in northern Burma. During his service, McCook received the Air Medal and the Distinguished Flying Cross, according to newspaper clippings. On August 3, 1943, McCook was the armor-gunner on the B-25C "Mitchell," conducting a low-altitude bombing raid over Meiktila, Burma, the DPAA said. The raid was meant to target the Meiktila dam and nearby Japanese barracks, according to a newspaper clipping. 1st Lt. Charles W. McCook. Defense POW/MIA Accounting Agency The aircraft crashed during the mission. McCook and three others aboard the plane died, but two men survived. One of the survivors, identified in newspaper clippings as Sgt. John Boyd, said the plane had been hit by an explosive gas shell while flying at a low altitude. McCook, who Boyd recalled "as the best in the business," was able to bring the damaged plane up to an altitude that allowed Boyd and the other surviving soldier to parachute from the craft before it crashed. Boyd said this action allowed him to survive. He and the other soldier were taken captive by Japanese forces, the DPAA said. Boyd spent two years as a prisoner in Rangoon before he was freed, according to newspaper clippings. McCook's remains were not recovered. He was eventually listed as missing in action. In 1947, after World War II ended, the American Grave Registration Service recovered four sets of remains from a common grave near a village in Burma, the DPAA said. A newspaper clipping describing 1st Lt. Charles W. McCook's heroic actions before the crash that took his life. Defense POW/MIA Accounting Agency Locals said the four sets of remains, designated X-282A-D, were from an "American crash," the DPAA said. But the remains were not identified at the time. They were interred as "Unknowns" at the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific, or the Punchbowl, in Honolulu, Hawaii. McCook's name was listed on the Walls of the Missing at the Manila American Cemetery and Memorial in the Philippines. In January 2022, the DPAA disinterred all four sets of remains and taken to the agency's laboratory. Dental, anthropological and isotope analyses were conducted. Other military agencies used mitochondrial DNA analysis and genome sequencing data to help identify the remains. The processes allowed the DPAA to identify one of the sets of remains as belonging to McCook. Now that McCook has been accounted for, a rosette has been placed next to his name on the Walls of the Missing. He will be buried in his hometown in August 2025, the DPAA said.
Yahoo
an hour ago
- Yahoo
Why Are the Media So Afraid of Trump?
Subscribe here: Apple Podcasts | Spotify | YouTube | Overcast | Pocket Casts On this episode of The David Frum Show, The Atlantic's David Frum opens with a warning about how Donald Trump's second term has brought a more systematic and punishing assault on American media, through regulatory pressure, retaliatory lawsuits, and corporate intimidation. Then David is joined by the legendary newspaper editor Marty Baron to discuss how today's media institutions are struggling to stand up to power. Baron reflects on his tenure at The Washington Post, the new pressures facing owners such as Jeff Bezos, and how Trump has turned retribution into official policy. They also examine how internal newsroom culture, social media, and a loss of connection to working-class America have weakened public trust in journalism. David closes the episode by reflecting on the recent media overhyping of President Joe Biden's age issues. The following is a transcript of the episode: David Frum: Hello, and welcome to Episode 9 of The David Frum Show. I'm David Frum, a staff writer at The Atlantic. Today, I'll be joined by Marty Baron, formerly executive editor of The Washington Post during the first Trump term and during the transition of ownership at The Washington Post from the Graham family that had led it through so many years to new ownership under Jeff Bezos. Marty Baron is one of the most important media leaders of our time and has spoken forcefully, both in person and in his memoir, Collision of Power, about the threats to free press and the responsibilities of that press. I'll finish the episode with some thoughts about the way the media have covered the old age and infirmity of former President Joe Biden. But let me begin by addressing this larger topic of press freedom and press responsibility in the second Trump term. President Trump began his campaign and has spent much of his first term attacking the media, coining phrases, calling the free media enemies of the people, enemies of the state, and huffing and puffing and complaining, and generally persecuting and often inciting dangerous threats against individual members of the press. If you covered the Trump presidency in that first term, especially if you were a woman, you suddenly found yourself being attacked, both digitally and often in person, in ways unlike anything ever seen before: death threats, harassment, abuse, anti-Semitic and misogynistic, racist—the worst kind of garbage. I even got a little splash of myself. I had an FBI man come to the house to warn my wife that there had been some threats against me. The Atlantic is kind of high-toned, and I think a lot of the people who make the worst threats don't read The Atlantic, and so we get spared to some degree, but it was nasty. But it was also mostly ineffective. The press worked during the first Trump term. Institutions like The Atlantic, like The New York Times, like The Washington Post, like CNN kept bringing to light important stories about what the Trump presidency was doing, about corruption, about ties to Russia, about many things that people needed to know. And while their lives were much more difficult than they had been in the past, and while the pressures on them were real, it did not, in the end, detract from getting the job done, for the most part, in the first Trump term. In the second Trump term, things have been different. President Trump has been much more systematic, much more deliberate, much more sustained, and much more effective in putting pressure on America's free media. He does it by squeezing the corporate parents of media institutions, making it clear that mergers of the upstream parent will not be allowed or will be harassed or even illegally prevented in some way, unless those institutions change the way that their reporting arms behave themselves. And we have seen media people end up paying what look very much like inducements, material inducements, to Trump. Amazon, which is owned by Jeff Bezos, who also owns The Washington Post, paid millions of dollars for the rights to make a Melania documentary, money it has to know it will never see back for a documentary that will probably never be produced. ABC paid millions of dollars directly to President Trump's so-called library, but really to himself, because of pressure put upon the Disney Corporation, ABC's corporate parent. CBS offered a settlement to Trump for an even more vexatious and absurd lawsuit: Trump complained that he didn't like the way they edited an interview with Kamala Harris—which, So what? You don't like our editing? You have no claim on that. That gives you no right of due action. I mean, send us a letter if you don't like the editing. And other people don't like the editing of the interview we did with you; that's not lawsuit material. The Atlantic, too, after our Signal story, a that reported that our editor in chief, Jeffrey Goldberg, had been added to what should have been a more sensitive discussion of a military operation in Yemen: In addition to the usual concerns for accuracy that, of course, we had, we knew that there was a chance that the federal government under President Trump would pursue some sort of baseless, legal retaliatory action against us, and we had to fear that in a way that probably in another time we would not have had to fear. So there are real things to worry about, and they're not just specific to Trump. We've seen other people in American politics do the same. When Ron DeSantis was governor of Florida—or he is the governor of Florida. When he was running for president, he made one of his signature issues threatening the Disney Corporation for exercising its free-speech rights to comment on some of his social legislation by stripping them of various business privileges that they had long had and punishing the corporate parent for exercises of corporate free speech, because Disney was unhappy that the DeSantis administration was penalizing what they saw as the free-expression rights of gay and lesbian people in the state of Florida. So DeSantis took the Trump path. In the end, it didn't do him any good, but Disney still took the blow. We have seen this kind of acceleration of new kinds of threats, and they're working because media institutions of the traditional kind are more vulnerable than they ever used to be before. Look—the companies that were powerful in 1972 are a lot less powerful in 2025, but they remain the main sources of dispassionate, fact-checked, accurate information about the events of the day. New media does not see that as its mission, but the old media do. But because they've been losing audience share, because they're less wealthy than they used to be, they're subject to various kinds of pressure, and those pressures are being imposed on them with real-world consequences for all of us. Meanwhile, the whole mental landscape is being altered by the rise of different kinds of media institutions. TikTok has to be regarded as the most important media company in America today, alongside Facebook and other social-media platforms. These are shaping the minds and mentalities of Americans, especially Americans under 40, especially those Americans who are not closely involved with the political process, and so whose votes are maybe more up for grabs and are therefore some of the most valuable voters to politicians. We have a new kind of landscape, and it's one that we all have to navigate with great care and one in which our responsibilities as citizens are as much at stake as our rights as citizens. The information landscape is being reshaped, and Trump is abusing the powers of state in this new landscape to hasten the reshaping in ways favorable to him. Congress passed a law putting TikTok out of business. The Supreme Court approved that law. Trump has postponed enforcing the law long past all the deadlines that were supposed to be there, because he likes the way TikTok covers him. Remember, one of the rules of authoritarianism is: The protection for the culpable is as much a resource for the authoritarian as harassment of the innocent. The goal and end state of all of these evolutions, of these pressures, of these changes in the media landscape is to create a world—or create an America—in which nobody will know anything that can be relied upon and shared with neighbors. Instead of knowledge informing our politics, our politics will inform our knowledge. Now, there's no ready answer to this, but each of us as an individual has a power to do something about it, to be a better consumer of news, to be a wiser user, to read more carefully, to question more of what we see, to fortify our immunities against the coming wage of AI-fed distortion that is surely on its way. It's going to be a different kind of country, different kind of way of processing information. But the task of democracy and the challenge of democracy remains eternal, even as the challenges and threats change. And we're all going to have to step up and be the best kind of citizens, the best-informed citizens that we know how to be, even as it becomes more difficult in the face of authoritarian pressure and new technology. And now my dialogue with Marty Baron, formerly editor of The Washington Post. But first, a quick break. [] Frum: Marty Baron is a newspaper editor whose real-life story inspired an Academy Award–winning movie. After reporting for the Los Angeles Times and The New York Times, he was appointed executive editor of the Miami Herald. From Miami, he moved to Boston, where he led the Boston Globe's coverage of sex-abuse cover-ups in the Catholic Church. That coverage won a Pulitzer Prize in 2003 and inspired the 2015 movie Spotlight. In 2013, Marty Baron moved to The Washington Post. He led the paper through its purchase by Jeff Bezos and through the first Trump term, winning more accolades and prizes for himself and his reporters along the way. He retired in 2021 and published his memoir, Collision of Power, in 2023. Marty, thank you so much for joining the program today. Martin Baron: Thanks for inviting me, David. Frum: All right, so we've got some things to cover, and we've talked about what those might be, but let me start off with a straightforward question: If you were editing The Washington Post today, do you think you'd keep your job? Baron: (Laughs.) I think I would, actually, because I think I did a good job while I was there, and I think that was appreciated and I was supported by the owner and the publisher at the time. Obviously, some things have changed. But I think it would be very risky for them to fire me. And the news department continues to maintain its independence from the owner. The owner has not interfered in the news coverage, as far as I know. And I think all of us would know, because there would be an explosive reaction within the newsroom if he had interfered. So yes, I think I would keep my job. Frum: It's a major theme of your memoir, Collision of Power, that first-term Trump tried to pressure The Washington Post's new owner, Jeff Bezos, into submission, and that Bezos consistently and courageously resisted. Bezos paid a price for this. Amazon lost a $10 billion contract with the federal government because of Trump's unhappiness with The Washington Post coverage. Amazon and the Post don't have a relationship, but Bezos is the owner of both. They're the largest shareholder in Amazon and [he's] the sole owner of the Post. Second-term Trump seems much more deliberate, methodical, purposeful, and effective in his pressures on the Post and other media institutions. And this time, he also seems more successful, and not just with the Post but with many others. I described in my opening monologue some of the other cases—CBS, ABC. What are media owners so afraid of? Baron: Well, I think what they're afraid of is they're afraid of being made a target by Trump, that he's going to do severe damage to their other commercial interests. I think in the case of Bezos, he's afraid of the impact that Trump can have on Amazon, which has enormous contracts—particularly in the area of cloud-computing services—with the federal government. And he has a private, commercial space venture called Blue Origin, which had fallen well behind SpaceX, the Elon Musk company, but was at the point of launching a rocket into orbit and then being able to start to compete, really, with SpaceX. It has now launched that rocket successfully into orbit. But it's highly dependent on contracts with the federal government, and I think that's true of the other companies as well, the parent companies of CBS and ABC. So in the case of ABC, Disney depends on the federal government for approval of mergers and things like that, and does not want to be in conflict with the president of the United States. And of course, Paramount, which owns CBS, wants to execute a merger with Skydance, and that requires approval by the FCC. Frum: You know, you've had a long and storied career through many, many different institutions, and I'm sure along the way, you have observed close-up and directly how angry mayors, governors, and presidents and members of Congress can get at media coverage. And there's always a lot of huffing and puffing and bluster and anger. What is happening since the election in 2024 seems qualitatively different from anything that I've observed. Is that your observation? Baron: Well, absolutely. Look—I mean, Trump, during his campaign, promised to seek retribution on his perceived political enemies. That's what he's doing right now. You can see that, of course, in his attacks on law firms that have represented individuals and institutions that were opposed to him, seeking to bar them from access to federal-government buildings, seeking to deny them any contracts with the federal government—basically, punish them in every conceivable way—and really, he's seeking to destroy those law firms. The same applies to universities, first with Columbia University and then now with Harvard, of course. You can see that he's applying all of the not just threats, but actually, use of force and denying billions of dollars in grants to Harvard in an effort to force them to submit to his wishes. So that's what's happening. It's qualitatively different from what we've seen before. And of course, the federal government has enormous power. And Trump is exercising that power—actually, not just exercising it; he's abusing it. Frum: Why is it so much more effective now? One of the semi-remembered details of the Watergate scandal was that President Richard Nixon tried to put pressure on The Washington Post at that time because the Post was then seeking permission, or the Graham family was seeking permission, to acquire some radio stations, which required FCC approval. And there's a famous crude quote about it, We're going to put Katie Graham's tits through the wringer. And what that was referring to was that her family wanted to buy these radio stations—or maybe sell them; I can't remember which. But either way, they needed an FCC permission, and Nixon said, Aha! I have the brain wave. We'll use that as a pressure on the Post. And it spectacularly backfired. It didn't work for Nixon at all. Now, a half century later, similar kinds of threats do seem to be working, at least for now. What's the difference? Why was the press so much more robust in the 1970s than the prestige press seems to be in the 2020s? Baron: Well, I don't know if it was more robust. Certainly, in the case of The Washington Post, they resisted. And I wish that Jeff Bezos would do the same. As I said, I think the news department continues to operate independently, and it's doing a great job, an admirable job of investigating what's happening in this administration. And yet he has sought to repair his relationship with Trump by doing all sorts of things, the first one being killing an endorsement of Kamala Harris and then, of course, donating to the inauguration, appearing at the inauguration, Amazon agreeing to a contract to buy the rights to a Melania Trump documentary about her own life for an extraordinary sum of money, and then Amazon agreeing to buy the rights to The Apprentice. I think what's different now is, well, you don't have a Congress that's doing its job. I mean, at the time of Watergate, you actually had some confidence that the other pillars of government would stand up, would hold up. And in the case of Watergate, you had a Congress that conducted an investigation that obtained internal tapes, and that made all the difference in the world. And now you have a president who has control of both houses of Congress, and you have a Congress, a Republican Party, that is a completely servile. Frum: Mm-hmm. Is there something different about the media institutions themselves? Have they changed in some way, as compared to what they were half a century ago? Baron: Good question. Look—in the past, I think sometimes we romanticized what the media was like. Keep in mind: We used to have incredibly wealthy owners of media, people like Hearst, who often collaborated with government and abused their power. I mean, the Chandler family, you know, remade Los Angeles, brought water from the Owens Valley in the north down to L.A. to essentially enrich themselves. So I think we romanticize what media ownership was in the past. I think that now, you know, a lot of media—big, institutional media—is owned by, first of all, very wealthy people who have other very substantial commercial interests. And you have, also, these parent companies, which have other substantial commercial interests. And they're highly dependent on the federal government, and the federal government has probably more power today than it had back in the previous years, previous decades. Frum: One reason it seems to me that media institutions are weaker in the 2020s was because they went through a self-imposed spasm of self-cannibalization in the late 2010s, culminating in the events of 2020. The most famous example of this is the forced resignation of James Bennett from The New York Times op-ed page for the sin of running an op-ed that some of the staffers thought was too interesting. They claimed that the op-ed would lead to violence, which was, on its face and certainly by the result, a false claim. But Bennett was forced out, and other institutions saw these kind of little staff mutinies. You experienced many at The Washington Post, and the hypothesis is: Was there some kind of weakening of the sinew, some kind of weakening of the courage, some kind of weakening of the solidarity between staff and leadership at the institution that happened between 2015, culminating in 2020? And is that in any way responsible for the weakness of institutions today? Baron: Well, I don't disagree with you that there has been a certain ideological rigidity within newsrooms and unwillingness to recognize nuance, a tendency on the part of, particularly, the younger generation, I think, to divide the world into victims and victimizers, oppressors and the oppressed, and basically see the world without a nuance, see it through sort of a binary separation. I think that what that has done—I don't know that it has weakened. Certainly, there have been rebellions within newsrooms. I did experience that due to my efforts to try to enforce social-media guidelines, for example, and then, also, in reaction to the George Floyd killing, the demand for greater diversity in the newsroom and in leadership. But I think that the unwillingness to sort of recognize nuances has hurt our credibility with the general public. That's where I think it's done real damage, is that it has contributed to the decline in confidence in major news institutions. And that's a perilous place to be. Frum: You know, diversity is a complex concept with many different meanings, and I think what it can sometimes mean and has sometimes meant for many institutions is that while the staff become more diverse in a series of biographical attributes, they become more monolithic in the way they think and more different from the people to whom they want to deliver their product. So if you've got a newsroom that is all full of—from every background, every climb, but—all graduates of certain four-year institutions with certain common outlooks, and the readership doesn't meet those qualifications. I mean, they may, you know, have different biographies, but they have similar outlooks, and it's one that puts them increasingly at odds with who their consumers are, in a way that just wasn't the case when you went to a newspaper from high school, not from college. Baron: I think that's true. I think that we do not have a certain level of diversity that we should have. It's people from a lot of different backgrounds, people who didn't go to all the same sorts of schools. I certainly didn't, by the way. I did not go to an Ivy League school, and I grew up in Florida and not in the Washington area. And I just ended up there because I was approached about taking on the editorship of The Washington Post, which was a surprise to me. So I've always seen Washington as a bit of a bubble, and I think it is. Look—we did work when I was at the Post to increase the diversity, in and in respects other than demographic. We tried to hire more military veterans. We thought that was important. The country had been at war for so many years, and yet we had very few military veterans in our newsroom. We needed more. We hired people who came from evangelical Christian colleges. I thought that was really important, given the importance of religion in this country, and particularly evangelicalism in this country. And to try to get more people from working-class backgrounds as well. And we need to do more of that. There's no question. I think there are a lot of people in the newsroom who don't understand the struggles and lives of ordinary people in the middle of the country, and we need to work harder at that. There's no question about that. Frum: One thing I think that gets lost sight of—and I'm old enough to remember it, and maybe you are too—was: In the middle of 1970s, most of the people who worked for a newspaper were engaged in a form of manufacturing. The paper, yes, it was written. But after it was written, it was then composed by people who worked for the newspaper, and it was then physically printed and then physically distributed. It was a giant manufacturing enterprise, and most of the staff were blue-collar people who had nothing to do with the content of the paper and everything to do with the physical existence of the paper. And this was brought home when my wife's stepfather created a newspaper in Toronto—which was created in the early 1970s, The Toronto Sun—which was like this. You saw it when you went to the athletic events, or the picnics, the softball games that the reporters might have had a slightly more-educated background. But most people who were there were blue-collar people when they played softball together, when they did picnics together, when they socialized together—that the newspaper affirmed its identity as part of the culture of the city, and it was a manufacturing enterprise. Well, technology has changed that. Newspapers don't manufacture anymore. They deliver a nonphysical product. The people who produce the product are highly educated. The production staff are probably even more technically skilled than the content staff. And all of them are more and more unlike the rest of the people of the city or country in which they serve. Baron: Well, I agree with you on that. Look—this was evident prior to Trump being elected. People have asked me what our failures were prior to Trump being elected, and I always say, It wasn't the coverage of the campaign. It was what occurred prior to that—years prior to that. It's that we didn't understand the country well enough. We just did not understand people's struggles, their expectations, their aspirations, and we needed to do that better. And there's no question that—look: Everybody, people talk about their life experiences these days, but everybody's life experiences, by definition, are narrow. It's just them. Our job as journalists is to get outside of our life experience and understand the life, the experiences of other people. And we need more people in our newsrooms who come from a variety of different backgrounds. And I think we should get to work doing that. Frum: A point I made in my first Trump book about this is a way of driving it home. So the great opioid toll begins in 2014. By 2016, it's killing more Americans than Vietnam. I went to The New York Times search engine and typed in, for the year from January 1, 2016, to the end of 2016, the two words opioid and transgender. And I don't want to derogate from the importance of any issue. If I remember right, there were, like, 80 or a hundred times more stories about transgender issues in The New York Times in 2016 than there were about the opioid epidemic. Now, that would change the following year, but it just marked that something could be happening in Pennsylvania and New Hampshire in 2014, 2015, and 2016, and it was invisible to the people who produced the country's most elite newspapers. And one of Trump's secret weapons in the campaign of 2016 was he would campaign in these places and just say the word opioid. He had no plan. He had no concept. And indeed, the problem would continue to get dramatically worse under his presidency, but at least he knew it was there, which other people seem not to know. Baron: That's a very interesting data point, that research that you did. And I think it does highlight just how sorely disconnected we are from so much of what is happening in the country, and I think that's something that definitely needs to be corrected, and corrected quickly. It's cause for a lot of self-reflection on the part of all of us who are in the media, and we need to make sure that that doesn't continue. Frum: As we talk about media, of course, people of a certain generation have an idea of what media is, and we often have a way of using that phrase to mean institutions that were important in 1972—The Washington Post, The New York Times, CBS News. And it's a little hard to absorb that everybody who has one of these devices, which everybody has, can communicate instantly any image or any language to anybody on the planet on a scale that would've staggered the editors of The Washington Post in 1972, or even the CBS Evening News. And I suppose one of the questions we have to think more philosophically about is: What is media in the 2020s? I mean, TikTok shapes more minds than The New York Times, and Joe Rogan has a bigger audience than 60 Minutes. And we have a kind of anti-media that creates relationships with its consumers by presenting itself as non-media, by attacking the institutions that were important in 1972 but that are themselves also forms of media, obviously, and that are different from the traditional institutions only in that they seem to have no code of conduct, no code of ethics whatsoever. Baron: Well, clearly the definition of media has expanded tremendously. We've seen a radical change in the kind of media there is, and a radical change in the way that media is consumed. And a lot of the new media is communicating with a level of authenticity—or at least perceived authenticity—that institutional media has been unable to deliver. We in the traditional media have always focused on our authority, the reporting that we do, the verification process—all of which, of course, is essential and core to who we are and what we ought to be doing, what our mission is. At the same time, we are not communicating the same level of authenticity that a lot of the new media are. And because we don't do that, because we don't communicate authenticity, we're not getting credit for the authority that we have. And people who do communicate authentically, or perceived authentically—a lot of the new media—they're being given credit for authority that frequently they don't deserve. Not always. There are people who are quite capable who are doing that, but a lot of them don't deserve the authority. And look—this is a huge challenge. I mean, it's an opportunity, of course, to reach more people. But it is a huge challenge to traditional news institutions, and that's one that we clearly have to confront and we have to change. Frum: Well, you're very polite about it when you call it authenticity. I think one of the lessons I think from a media-business point of view: The media of the 1970s ignored large parts of demand. It turns out, there's a much bigger demand for virulent anti-Semitism in America than anyone in 1975 thought there was. There's much more demand for crackpot medical advice than people used to think. And in 1975, if you'd said to The New York Times or The Washington Post or CBS, You know, you could make more money by serving the anti-Semitic market or the medical crackpot market, they would say, You know what? We're making enough money. Thanks, but no thanks. We don't need to tell people the polio vaccine is no good. But people, entrepreneurs have discovered there is a big market for anti-Semitism. There is a big market for The polio vaccine is no good, and you can get very rich—or at least selected individuals can—meeting that demand, which is not infinite but large. And we are in a world that is, you know—the price of the internet may be the return of infectious diseases that had been banished in 1998. Baron: Look—they are an enormous number of bad actors. By using the word authenticity, I don't suggest that many of them aren't bad actors. There are good actors too. There are people who are doing really good work. And I think there's a reason you have a podcast, that you developed a podcast because you saw it as a better way of communicating with people or, at least potentially, a more-effective way of communicating with people. And there are a lot of other people who are doing that as well. So I don't want to discredit everybody who's in new media, because they don't deserve to be discredited, because many of them are quite good. But there are a lot of bad actors in spreading crazy conspiracy theories and a lot of hate. And that is the nature of the internet these days, is that it allows for that because it's a highly fragmented market, and people are going to exploit that fragmented market for their own personal, professional, political, or commercial gain. And that's exactly what's happening. I would say, however, that traditional media is not irrelevant, as is often claimed by people in that new-media field, by a lot of our politicians today, including Trump and Musk and whoever. The reality is that we remain relevant. There's a reason why Trump is completely obsessed with traditional media. He would not be obsessed with traditional media if it were irrelevant; that would be insane. And by the way, when Elon Musk just recently stepped away from the White House, who did he give interviews to? Amazingly, traditional media, the very media that he had denigrated all along. Frum: How should we think about what is and what isn't media? A person offering makeup advice on TikTok to a million viewers, is that media? I don't know anymore. Baron: Yeah, it's media. I mean, I think it is media—media writ large. Absolutely. People who are on TikTok are having an enormous impact. I mean, people are forming their opinions of what's happening, let's say in the Middle East, based on a 15-second TikTok. They think they know everything based on the 15 seconds that they saw on TikTok. Now, that is appalling, of course. Anytime you're dealing with a complex subject, like the Middle East, which has centuries of history behind it, you don't want to think that you've absorbed everything you need to know based on something you saw in 15 seconds on TikTok. But there's no question. That's media. That is how people are receiving their information, like it or not. Frum: Let me offer you a last question, some advice for the viewers: How does one become a better consumer of media content in this day and age? Are there any guidelines or advice you can offer to the viewer who is not selling makeup tips to a million people, but who has a phone, uses it, looks at it. How do we use this incredible new device, this incredible new power, responsibly and effectively to live better and more informed lives as citizens and individuals? Baron: Well, look. I mean, one of the biggest challenges today, a huge challenge and problem for us, is that we can't agree on a common set of facts. We can't even agree on how to determine what a fact is. All of the things that we've used in the past—education, experience, expertise, and actual evidence—have all been discredited. Not discredited, but denied and dismissed and denigrated. I think that consumers should be looking at that. They ought to be looking: Does this person actually have an education in the field? Does this person have experience in the field? Does this person have expertise? Is there actual evidence? Can I see the evidence? Who is behind this? Use your critical faculties to judge the quality of information and the quality of the people who are disseminating that information, and determine whether in the past you've relied on them. I mean, one of the interesting things about traditional media is that when there's a natural disaster, guess where people turn? They turn to traditional media. They don't turn to some of these fringe outfits to tell them where the hurricane's going to hit and what they ought to be doing, or where the tornado is, or anything like that, or where the flooding is going to be. They turn, typically, to traditional media because, look—there's a reserve of confidence in them because they know that they're going to get accurate information. And so I think consumers of information need to look for that education, expertise, experience. And what is the evidence that they are providing? Are you just relying on your beliefs, or are you confusing your beliefs with actual facts? Frum: Maybe the good news or the bad news of the same, which is we all have many more opportunities, but we're all going to have to work a lot harder to make sure that we are accurately and truthfully informed. And while it's never been easier if you have some medical symptom—never been easier to find out for yourself what that probably is—it's also never been easier to be deceived by people who, for reasons of gain or sociopathy, want to make you sicker or want to deny you the medicine you really need. And so we have seen the decline in vaccinations. It's still more than 90 percent that are properly vaccinated. So nine out of 10 people are doing the right thing. But five or eight out of 100 are doing the wrong thing, and they pose risks not only to their own children, but to everybody's children. Baron: And I think the consumers of information have to work harder, but also, those of us who are delivering information have to work harder to show people our work, to show people why they should believe us—not just to tell them what's happening but to show them the work that we've done, the evidence that we're relying upon. Be as transparent as possible, communicate more effectively, and make sure that we're covering the entirety of our communities and our society and our country, and do a better job of that. Frum: Marty, thank you so much for your time. Thank you for your candid memoir—it's going to be an important resource for anyone who wants to understand the Trump era, and also the transformation of media under new kinds of ownership, and, above all, your extraordinarily important institution, The Washington Post, which you led to such heights, and which we hope is able to retain at least most of the glory that you delivered for it. Baron: Thank you, David. I appreciate it. Frum: Thank you. Bye-bye. [] Frum: Thanks so much to Marty Baron for joining me today. If you appreciate this dialogue and the others like it, I hope you will subscribe to this podcast on whatever platform you use. I hope you'll also consider subscribing to The Atlantic, in print or in text form. That is how we under support all the work of this podcast of myself and of all my Atlantic colleagues. As we wrap up this all-media day today, I want to delve into one final topic, and that is: the way this scandal, this outrage, this outcry that has been womped up about the age of former President Joe Biden. Everyone saw the debate that President Biden had obviously become infirm, and now there is a lot of accusation that this was somehow covered up or neglected, and that not only were the people around President Biden culpable, but that somehow the press was implicated, too, in its failure to address the question sufficiently and in time. This strikes me as something with a kernel of truth to it, but more distraction and misleading than truth. And let me explain what I mean. Now, I'm proud to say that The Atlantic was early and direct on the Biden age story. We ran a piece in June of 2022 by my Atlantic colleague Mark Leibovich saying Biden was too old and should not run again. Had Leibovich's advice been followed, history would've taken a very different course. And I think you'll find many other examples in many other places—Olivia Nuzzi at New York Magazine—of people who brought attention to the President Biden's gathering infirmity. Obviously, there were people around him who tried to put the best face on the president's health. That's always true. President Kennedy was much sicker than anybody knew at the time when he was president in the early '60s, when he seemed to be a model of physical fitness. President Eisenhower, the severity of his heart attacks—again, that was not known to people at the time. The full seriousness of the assassination attempt on President Ronald Reagan in 1981—his recovery, it was much more touch and go than people were allowed to think at the time. People are invited to think of the president as healthier than the president often is. It is a body-killing job, and nobody comes out of it in the same shape that they went into it. And surely, the people around President Biden tried to represent him as healthier than perhaps he was, especially toward the end. And it is an important news story to cover the capability of the president. Kudos to those who dig into that topic, who separate what is true from what is rumored, and who alert people when the president isn't as capable as the president should be, or as those around him want to be. That's a job that continues even after the presidency. As I said, with these previous presidents, the full degree of their infirmity was often not known until sometime afterwards. Woodrow Wilson was struck down by a stroke in October of 1919. Now, people understood that he was ill and was invalided, but how radically invalided he was, that was something—and he was invalid from October of 1919 until he left the presidency, in March of 1921, almost a year and a half—that was covered up by his wife and his doctor. And the full truth was not known for a long time, and that really did change the course of history. Many of the worst acts of the Wilson presidency happened after the stroke of October 1919, and it's not clear whether Wilson approved of them, authorized them, or even was aware of them. The Palmer Raids, for example, where immigrants were rounded up and deported without much of a hearing, if any—those started in November of 1919 and were at their peak in January of 1920. Not clear that Wilson even ever knew about it. So bringing the truth retrospectively, also an important task. And I understand that journalists, when they follow these stories, can sometimes lose perspective. You know, if the school superintendent is stealing pencils from the supply cabinet, that's probably not the most important story in the world. But the only way you're ever going to find out about it is if one person in the local paper decides that for him or for her, that story will be the most important story in the world for however long it takes to get to the bottom of it. And only a person who acts as if the superintendent stealing the pencils is the most important story in the world will bring the story to light at all and give it whatever attention it deserves. So their tunnel vision is kind of a bona fide job qualification for being a reporter. But when you consume and read and react to news, that's where the perspective comes in. And you need to say, Okay, maybe the people around Biden did try to hush up how sick he was. And maybe not every journalist worked as hard as Mark Leibovich to get the truth. Not every journalist worked as hard as Olivia Nuzzi to get the truth. Not every journalist was willing to brave the blowback that Mark Leibovich and Olivia Nuzzi got for their reporting of the truth. But how important was this story, really? And today—when there is an effort to make it seem like this is the biggest scandal in American history, or at least the biggest scandal going today—at a time when the present president is pillaging billions of dollars, the story now that is the overwhelming story here in Washington is corruption on a post-Soviet, postcolonial Africa scale. Billions of dollars going into and affecting everything, every decision that this administration makes, from pardons to foreign policy. That's the story. Everything else, also interesting. But don't oversell it, and don't overbuy it. Thanks very much. I hope to see you next week here on The David Frum Show. [] Frum: This episode of The David Frum Show was produced by Nathaniel Frum and edited by Andrea Valdez. It was engineered by Dave Grein. Our theme is by Andrew M. Edwards. Claudine Ebeid is the executive producer of Atlantic audio, and Andrea Valdez is our managing editor. I'm David Frum. Thank you for listening. Article originally published at The Atlantic
Yahoo
2 hours ago
- Yahoo
Marjorie Taylor Greene admits she also didn't read the GOP megabill she voted for
As House Republicans raced to advance their domestic policy megabill — the inaptly named 'One Big Beautiful Bill Act' — GOP leaders completed the legislative work in the most irresponsible ways possible. House Speaker Mike Johnson and his leadership team wrote and rewrote their not-so-beautiful bill in the middle of the night, and changed the reconciliation package repeatedly in response to private backroom deals, far from public view. Republican leaders, quite deliberately, rushed the bill onto the floor for a vote before members could read it, likely realizing that more sunlight would mean more defections. The plan worked, and the proposal passed the chamber by one vote. But in the days that followed, some members who helped advance the legislation started to learn what was in the bill they'd already voted for; they started admitting that they hadn't read it; and they started raising new objections. Last week, for example, Republican Rep. Mike Flood held a town hall meeting with constituents in his Nebraska district, where he faced questions about a provision in the bill that would effectively prevent judges from holding litigants who defy court orders in contempt — a move that appeared designed to protect Donald Trump and his White House team. Flood agreed that this policy was misguided, while grudgingly conceding that he didn't know it was in the bill he voted for. This week, one of his right-wing colleagues joined the same club. The Washington Post reported: Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-Georgia), a vocal ally of President Donald Trump, admitted Tuesday she was unaware of a key provision in his priority legislative package when she voted for it last month. Greene wrote on X that she would not have backed the legislation had she known it would block states from passing laws to regulate artificial intelligence for 10 years. She called on the Senate to remove the provision. The Georgia Republican's social media post added that she was making the admission about her ignorance in the interest of 'full transparency.' As a matter of political principle, acknowledgements like these reflect an important breakdown in governance. When party leaders try to rush legislation onto the floor, telling their members to vote for it while effectively blindfolded, it's incumbent on lawmakers to use their leverage, slow the process down, and tell their party that they won't vote for important bills without knowing what's in them. Flood, Greene and others who've been less candid about their lack of due diligence failed the most basic of legislative tests. But as a political matter, these admissions pose a new challenge for the House speaker's office: The party's megabill, assuming some version of it passes the Senate, will return to the lower chamber for another vote. Before that happens, at least some members will now likely take a closer look at the package — making final passage even more difficult the second time than the first. In 2010, as House Democrats prepared to pass the Affordable Care Act, then-House Speaker Nancy Pelosi said in a speech, 'We have to pass the bill so that you can find out what is in it.' The right twisted the comments to make it seem as if she was referring to members of Congress, but the California Democrat was obviously talking about the public: Pelosi believed that Americans would appreciate the benefits from the ACA once they learned more about its actual provisions. Pelosi, we now know, was ultimately proven right. But 15 years later, we're seeing a related dynamic that reflects the GOP's twisted version of the Pelosi quote: This time, it's Republican leaders who really do want to pass their bill before their own members 'find out what is in it.' With each passing day, it appears that effort isn't going well. This post updates our related earlier coverage. This article was originally published on
