On Speech...
- Michael Cunningham
- Sep 19
- 3 min read

As someone who has studied media and politics, the past couple of weeks have been chilling. The murder of Charlie Kirk has not only been a shocking event in itself, but it has also triggered a wave of consequences that should unsettle anyone who values the First Amendment. In the aftermath, multiple people across the country—particularly at colleges and universities—have been terminated for voicing their opinions.
Let’s be clear: celebrating the death of another human being is offensive, tasteless, and beneath the dignity of civil society. But offensive speech is not the same as illegal speech. These remarks may been tactless, but did not rise to the level of criminal conduct. What makes this moment especially alarming is that the very party that only months ago praised “free speech absolutists” like Elon Musk now cheers these firings on. The hypocrisy is stark.
The argument for these dismissals has been framed around institutional reputation or the tired refrain that “it’s legal, so you can’t do anything about it.” Certainly, private employers have wide latitude to decide who represents them. But free expression in America has always been about more than legality. It’s about whether we, as a society, are willing to uphold the principle that speech—even speech we dislike—deserves protection. That principle is being eroded at a rapid pace. And when state-owned universities are at the forefront of silencing unpopular voices, the concern becomes not just cultural but constitutional.
The danger is not unique to the United States. Across Europe, examples abound of what happens when political leaders treat speech not as a right to be safeguarded but as a threat to be managed. Hungary offers the clearest case. Under Prime Minister Viktor Orbán, laws have been passed that steadily narrow the space for dissent. Independent media outlets have been swallowed by pro-government conglomerates. Civil society groups and academic institutions face constant scrutiny, and speech critical of the government is branded as “unpatriotic” or “foreign-influenced.” Once the government redefines disagreement as disloyalty, the result is not debate—it is intimidation.
This is what makes the situation in the U.S. so troubling. We have long positioned ourselves as defenders of free expression, warning against the chilling examples abroad. Yet here, in the wake of Kirk’s murder, the instinct of too many has been to silence, punish, or banish rather than to argue, debate, and persuade.
The issue is not confined to academia. In the media world, the forced departure of comedian Jimmy Kimmel from his own show after remarks that angered Republicans highlights the same troubling dynamic. Some have compared his case to ABC/Disney’s firings of Roseanne Barr or Gina Carano. But those cases were the result of corporate backlash, not overt political interference. With Kimmel, the circumstances suggest something closer to government-aligned pressure influencing a corporate decision. That is a dangerous precedent, one that echoes the “soft censorship” tactics seen in Hungary—where media outlets that toe the government line are rewarded with favorable treatment, while those that don’t are quietly pushed aside.
A free press is one of if not the most vital component of a democratic society. It allows opinions to form outside of the government of the day, demanding x, y, or z. It allows independent research on what economic numbers actually contain and gives the people the opportunity to make up their own minds on the record of incumbents or the proposals of their challengers. It doesn’t just report on the government’s wins and he opposition's failures. It isn’t an arm of any political party. History shows that once governments or political movements succeed in normalizing punishment for unpopular speech, the boundary rarely stops where it begins. Last week it was offensive celebrations. This week it was satire. Next week could be policy criticism, or dissent from the party line. Hungary demonstrates how quickly the walls can close in, and how difficult it is to reopen them once they do. It gives the people the power to decide what is best.
The image I used in the graphic is from a series by Norman Rockwell on Roosevelt's "Four Freedoms": Freedom of Speech, Freedom of Worship, Freedom from Want, and Freedom from Fear. The Freedom of Speech painting is likely the one everyone is familiar with and features a single man speaking against the rebuilding of a school that had burned down. An unpopular and politically disastrous opinion, but he was free to speak his mind, nonetheless. Free speech is messy, provocative, and often uncomfortable, especially to those in power. In free countries, leaders can be applauded or booed. But that is the price of democracy. And if we are unwilling to pay it, then we should at least be honest about what we are choosing instead—not freedom, but control.



Comments