When Speech Isn’t Illegal, But Isn’t Quite Free
Note: This isn’t a political column. It’s part of my journey as a new writer who’s learning to pay attention, ask questions, and follow the truth wherever it leads. Writing teaches me that words matter, and lately I’ve been thinking a lot about what happens when certain voices are amplified and others are silenced.
This whole post started with a Reddit comment. Someone listed off names of left-leaning media figures who had been fired or canceled, then ended with, “and Brian Kilmeade said ‘kill ’em’ about the homeless and still has a job.”
My first instinct wasn’t to share it. It was to dig deeper. Was it true? Was it the whole story? Were there examples on the other side? Because there are always two sides to every story (sometimes more than that).
I wish more of us paused to be curious instead of rushing to be right. That’s what I tried to do here.
What I Found
On the Trump side, the pattern is hard to miss. Tiffany Cross was let go after criticizing Tucker Carlson, Joy Reid faced campaigns to be fired after calling out Trump, and Don Lemon was ousted from CNN after repeated clashes with leadership and commentary on Trump. Stephen Colbert’s Late Show was announced to be canceled, officially for financial reasons. But given Colbert’s long record of sharp Trump criticism, the timing has fueled speculation that politics played a role. Shows get canceled, voices disappear, late-night comedians are suspended. The official reasons are always “ratings” or “network changes,” but the timing makes it easy to see politics in the background.
On the Biden side, there are examples too. Glenn Greenwald resigned from The Intercept after editors tried to limit his critical reporting on Biden. Catherine Herridge was let go from CBS, despite her reputation for tough investigative work that sometimes hit Democrats hard. NPR suspended Uri Berliner after he criticized the network’s bias in covering Biden and Trump. These cases are quieter, less dramatic, and usually framed as “editorial disputes” or “policy violations” rather than headline-making cancellations.
Why It Feels Uneven
As I pieced things together, the asymmetry became clearer:
Trump attacks critics directly, sometimes by name, which ramps up the pressure.
Audiences on both sides react strongly, just in different directions. Conservatives often see criticism of Trump as unfair targeting, while liberals tend to frame their concerns around journalistic standards or objectivity.
Corporate media is fragile, and executives often choose to avoid the bigger risk, even if it means silencing someone.
It doesn’t make one side innocent and the other guilty. It just reveals how uneven the playing field looks depending on who you criticize.
Free Speech
I care about free speech. Not just the First Amendment version that protects us from government jail time, but the broader spirit of it: the idea that people should be able to speak their truth without fearing their career will evaporate overnight.
Yes, no one has a constitutional right to a TV show. Networks are private companies. They have the right to hire and fire, to cancel shows, to distance themselves from controversy. Actions do have consequences.
But when the consequence for criticizing a political figure is suspension, cancellation, or quiet removal, while violent rhetoric against vulnerable groups is brushed off with a quick apology, the spirit of free expression takes a hit. Some might even call it bullying: not government censorship in the legal sense, but political pressure applied in ways that leave networks scrambling to protect themselves. Whether you see it as bullying or just the messy push-and-pull of politics, the result looks the same: voices disappear, others take note, and self-censorship creeps in.
The real danger is the chilling effect. When voices vanish, others notice. And then? They stop speaking as boldly.
The Kilmeade Example
Enter Brian Kilmeade. On Fox & Friends, during a discussion of violent crime, he tossed off: “Or involuntary lethal injection, or something — just kill ’em.” He was talking about homeless people with mental illness.
The outrage was swift. He apologized the next day, admitting it was “extremely callous.” But he wasn’t suspended. His show wasn’t canceled. He still sits on the Fox News couch.
Contrast that with Joy Reid losing her platform or Jimmy Kimmel’s indefinite suspension, and you see the imbalance. Violent rhetoric about a vulnerable group passes with a shrug, while sharp political criticism can end careers.
The Kimmel Example
Jimmy Kimmel was suspended after comments he made in the wake of Charlie Kirk’s death. Some critics claimed he “celebrated” the loss, but looking at the transcript, that’s not what he said. Instead, he mocked how Trump reacted, noting that Trump quickly shifted the conversation to his White House ballroom renovations. Kimmel compared it to “how a 4-year-old mourns a goldfish.”
The backlash came less from him celebrating Kirk’s passing, and more from the tone: mocking grief and politicizing a tragedy in a way many found offensive. Whether you see that as grounds for suspension or not, the result was the same: a late-night host was taken off the air after criticizing Trump’s response.
Where I Landed
I don’t want to twist facts to fit a narrative. I’d rather follow the evidence and admit when it’s messy. What I see is this:
Both sides have critics who faced consequences.
The consequences for Trump critics are more visible, more extreme, and more public.
The rules aren’t consistent. And inconsistency is corrosive.
As someone who values honesty and transparency, I think we have to name that. Because if we only defend free speech when it benefits our side, we’re not defending free speech at all.
When certain voices get amplified and others are cut off, the stories we hear (and the ones we never hear) shape how we see the world. If comedians, journalists, or commentators begin to self-censor, our cultural conversation shrinks. And as someone learning to write, I know how fragile words can feel. How easy it is to second-guess, or to wonder if your perspective even belongs in the mix.
That’s why this conversation matters to me. Not because I expect to solve the media’s problems, but because I care about honesty, transparency, and the courage to speak even when it feels uncomfortable. Writers, even beginners, have to believe that words matter.
“I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”
