Why the conservative opposition to media literacy matters
Few would argue the centrality of media to our country’s political divide. A common refrain these days is that Americans no longer agree on a common body of factual information. Our realities, in part fueled by our media, diverge.
As luck would have it, there are proven strategies to help us make sense of the media we consume. That body of knowledge is called media literacy. In theory, then, we might bridge the divide— we might temper the divisive effect of a fractured and often inflammatory media landscape—by raising our media lit game.
The people I work with agree. In the professional communities I inhabit, which are generally populated by left-leaning educators and bridge-building practitioners trying to heal the political divide, media literacy is welcomed. But over the past couple of years, I have come to realize that media literacy is itself a divisive issue. It’s not just that particular sources of media, such as NPR or Fox, flame the partisan passions. It’s that the field itself, the field that is meant to help people analyze and evaluate NPR and Fox, is controversial. This, I did not realize.
It’s a massive challenge. From where I sit, everyone benefits from being able to critically analyze media. This can be as basic as figuring out who wrote and delivered the news item we stumbled upon, a fundamental question that could not objectively be construed as a partisan pursuit. Indeed, my hunch is that no one would quibble with the skills that comprise the field, yet the field itself appears to be deeply mistrusted among many on the political right. So this is the conundrum: a field of study that offers—as objectively as I can view it—skills that benefit all Americans, widely championed on one side of the political aisle and deeply mistrusted among many across the political divide.
For teachers, this mistrust may suddenly present itself as fiery parental opposition to media literacy curriculum that had until that moment felt utterly innocuous. Faced with such revolt (or even the potential for such revolt), teachers, who increasingly walk on eggshells or completely avoid productive learning opportunities due to a concern that those lessons may be perceived as political, might understandably retreat from their curricular plan. So there’s that: opposition to media literacy hamstrings teachers.
More broadly, I worry about the implications not only for today’s students but for society at large. A flourishing, functioning democracy requires informed citizens—right now. The citizenry informs itself through the critical examination of information. We all need to practice good media hygiene. When a big chunk of the country is skeptical of the field that helps us practice that hygiene, that spells trouble.
I have many questions, and I’m looking for answers. Is it true that many on the political right mistrust media literacy? If so, why? Are the doubters simply misinformed about the true nature of media literacy? And if that is the case, are there ways to correct the misperceptions? Or is the field misguided? Are there drawbacks or unintended side effects of media literacy that remain unseen to its champions and that could constitute a legitimate grievance to conservatives or staunch Trump supporters? If so, how would those blind spots be revealed and corrected?
This is not the first time I’ve thought about all this. I’ve written previously about my involvement in a Courageous Rhode Island professional development program that didn’t land so well with one attendee who blasted her displeasure online. Although her piece was utterly fanciful, we ignore it and the alarm it raised at our own peril. This attendee’s piece may not have been credible, but the sentiment it revealed among those who responded was absolutely real: lots of people were disgusted by what they understood to have been our nefarious intent (full story here). Armed with my newfound realization that media literacy had become controversial, I penned some practical advice to teachers about how I would approach the subject if I were currently in the classroom.
The issue of conservative mistrust of media literacy continues to vex me, and I’ve committed myself to working on this challenge. I started that process this past week in Kansas City, at the second annual Bridging Movement Summit, where I sat down with a small group of interested thought partners. That conversation, paired with some extracurricular research, has led me to a small handful of ideas that I would at this point consider working theories.
One is that champions of media literacy may be employing unintentionally divisive language. In my postmortem about the Courageous Rhode Island experience, I wondered if we had alienated conservatives by using words like “disinformation” that only later did I understand to be politically divisive. I am not suggesting that the content itself was misguided—that we should not have set out to help students identify disinformation. I’m saying that the word I know as “disinformation” may have connotations beyond my previous conception of it.
Where I understand disinformation to basically mean intentional lies (and who would argue against ferreting out lies?), some may hear the word as a coded nod to censorship— a cover for “ideas we don’t agree with.” If I’m correct that some language used by media literacy supporters is unintentionally alienating, it is also true that the reason for that alienation is not merely semantic. It’s not just that some people find the word “disinformation” to be off-putting, but instead that they understand it as an attack against fundamental American rights to freedom of thought and speech. “Speech crimes and censorship have become the norm in the West,” wrote Jonathan Turley on Fox News. “A new industry of ‘disinformation’ experts has commoditized censorship, making millions in the targeting and silencing of others.” This wasn’t on my radar when I participated in the PD initiative, but now I get it: to some, media literacy sounds censorious.
As a complement to the indignation over censorship, people bristle at their perception of powerful elites putting their thumb on the scale to elevate liberal ideology in the name of media literacy. In a 2024 letter to Microsoft, Senator Ted Cruz complained about that company’s support of a program called NewsGuard, which I hadn’t known about but which to me sounds pretty useful. Senator Cruz disagrees.
“NewsGuard, which touts itself as an “apolitical” “news rating” organization, has been under increasing scrutiny for its bias against conservative viewpoints. Specifically, NewsGuard has labeled conservative outlets, such as the Federalist, the Daily Wire, and Newsmax, as “unreliable” based on a subjective, opaque, and inconsistent rating system, while flagging their accurate reporting as misinformation. In contrast, NewsGuard rates left-leaning outlets like Jacobin, the Atlantic, and the New Republic as highly credible even when they have peddled deceptive and sensational headlines and articles that were factually incorrect.”
Is this merely political theater? Is Senator Cruz crying out over censorship as a way to conjure up conflict for personal or political gain? Or is this a sincerely held belief, reflecting a genuine concern of his constituency? Does it really matter, if the lingering effect either way is that many on the political right mistrust media literacy?
And do we—my colleagues and I—bear any responsibility for this partisan mistrust? Frankly, I wonder if some educators are fueling the fire by telling students which news sources can be trusted (anecdotally, this seems to be the case). If so, that would be out of line with the fundamental tenets of good media literacy education. Media literacy education challenges students to develop the skills and habits to analyze media, rather than rely on a teacher’s analysis. And if it were the case that educators aim their students towards some sources and away from others, it would feed right into one of the great narratives of our times: left-leaning authorities blew it during the pandemic by withholding information and offering erroneous advice; authorities are not trustworthy; authorities such as educators are now telling our students which news sources are “correct” and which must be avoided; this is thought control.
There is a great irony at play. In my travels, I have often heard conservatives ask that we please “teach kids how to think, not what to think.” Media literacy quite literally seeks to do that, yet the field is mistrusted by many on the political right. And therein lies the opportunity as well: I think media literacy might be something we can all get behind.
From here, I intend to engage others who could help make sense of all this. We started with a small group at the Listen First Summit. I’d like to now test my working theories and further explore my questions with journalists, educators, media literacy experts, political leaders, or others who have an interest in this challenge. Let’s get after it.
