How Will the Fourth Estate Approach Trump’s Second Term

After losing the California gubernatorial election in 1962, Richard Nixon, who battled the news media for more than a decade as a US representative, as a US senator, and as vice president, told assembled reporters that "as I leave you, I want you to…just think how much you're going to be missing. You don't have Nixon to kick around anymore because, gentlemen, this is my last press conference."

However, six years after fashioning his own political obituary, Nixon was elected president, renewing his tussles with journalists-several of whom made his infamous "enemies list"-before resigning in August of 1974, two years after the Watergate break-in.

Fast forward to January 6, 2021-the day Congress met to certify Joe Biden's victory in the 2020 presidential election. Supporters of then-President Donald Trump violently stormed the Capitol building in an effort to stop the certification process-a failed effort that nonetheless resulted in five deaths and dozens of assaults on police officers. A later congressional investigation by the Select January 6th Committee concluded that Trump's speech earlier that day, along with subsequent social media posts, incited the mob. Prior to the committee's report, Trump had been impeached for "incitement of insurrection."

In contrast to Nixon's "last press conference," in which the former vice president said he was done with the media, news and social media companies-including those that had backed Trump during his presidency-said they were done with Trump.

"Fox News (is) very busy pivoting," Rupert Murdoch, executive chairman of News Corporation at the time, wrote in an email shortly after the attack on the Capitol. "We want to make Trump a non person."

Similarly, Meta CEO Mark Zuckerberg announced an indefinite block on Trump's accounts because Trump used them to "incite (a) violent insurrection against a democratically elected government," noted Oliver Darcy in his Status newsletter earlier this month.

However, like Nixon, Trump will return as an elected official when he re-assumes the presidency on January 20, prompting many to offer guidance on how the media will or should cover a second Trump administration.

"Trump's war on the media-calling journalists 'the enemy of the people,' inciting crowds against them, and harassing publications with libel lawsuits-isn't new," says Associate Professor Adam Penenberg, director of NYU's Online Master's in Journalism Program. "Presidents have long bristled at being held accountable. It is, by design, an adversarial system."

But he also wonders if current and future challenges to the free press could prove existential.

Penenberg became known as an authority on journalistic ethics and investigations in the years after his Forbes reporting uncovered a pattern of blatant fabrications by the New Republic's Stephen Glass in the 1990s.

Ahead of Inauguration Day, he spoke with NYU News about the history of presidential press coverage, the forces that have reshaped the media landscape over the past few administrations, and the foundational journalistic questions a second Trump term may raise.

Matthew Yglesias wrote in the fall of 2023-in a post titled "When Trump wins, so does the media"-that the first Trump administration was "objectively, a good time professionally for a lot of journalists, and it was definitely good for the companies that employed them." Will that be the case for the second Trump administration?

Journalists are scared.

They're afraid of a president who would gladly crush dissent, rewrite the rules and the laws, and weaponize power to punish his critics. Imagine being a reporter trying to hold Trump accountable. Your inbox fills with death threats. Your home address is leaked online. You get "SWATed"-a fake 911 call sends armed police to your door. Your social media feeds become a cesspool of hate. You can't go out without wondering who will confront you with a camera for a viral "gotcha." Trolls don't just target you-they come for your family, friends, and colleagues.

"Presidents may change, but their hostility toward the press doesn't. The difference lies in how the media respond. Its job isn't to be liked-it's to hold power accountable. And history is clear: When the Fourth Estate bends, democracy breaks." NYU Journalism Professor Adam Penenberg

This fear doesn't just silence voices-it shapes coverage. Historians call it "anticipatory obedience": giving in before being forced. And we have been watching it unfold in real time. After the Washington Post's editorial board voted to endorse Kamala Harris for president, owner Jeff Bezos intervened, declaring that the paper would no longer endorse any presidential candidate-ending a decades-long tradition. Critics saw the move as preemptive damage control in anticipation of political fallout. Similarly, the Los Angeles Times refrained from endorsing a candidate in 2024, sparking resignations and reflecting a broader trend of media outlets doing what it takes to avoid potential retribution. One day, MSNBC's Joe Scarborough, co-host with Mika Brzezinski of the popular morning show Morning Joe, is comparing Donald Trump to Adolf Hitler; the next, he's headed to Mar-a-Lago to "restart communications" and chart a "new approach" to their Trump coverage. Meanwhile, ABC News settled a defamation case it might have won to avoid Trump's ire.

Journalism's job is to speak truth to power-even when it's dangerous, especially when it's dangerous. It takes courage-something media executives lack. Instead, they began bowing to Trump 2.0 even before he took office. They seem fine with sacrificing integrity for profit and protection.

Trump said throughout the campaign that he would carry out mass deportations and is now reportedly putting plans in place to do so. In the past, how have the US media reported on similar actions taken by the federal government?

Journalists today face an unsettling echo of history. In 1954, "Operation Wetback" saw nearly a million Mexican nationals-many legal residents-rounded up and deported using military-style tactics. The media of its time was largely complicit. Newspaper headlines framed the operation as a success, parroting government claims about "solving illegal immigration" while ignoring the brutal human cost. The offensive term "wetback" appeared uncritically, reinforcing dehumanization and public support for the crackdown. And the press amplified fears about job loss and crime without asking whether those fears were based on fact or prejudice.

Each time Donald Trump has run for office, the media often leaned on a "both-sides" approach: Trump makes a claim, critics push back, and the truth becomes just another point of view. This false equivalence didn't just obscure reality-it enabled Trump to blur the line between fact and fiction. The media worked in concert with him, spreading his lies by reprinting them.

Now, as Trump reportedly prepares mass deportations reminiscent of "Operation Wetback," the press faces a choice: repeat the same mistakes by amplifying his narrative, or fulfill its duty as the Fourth Estate-a bulwark against government overreach and abuse.

I wouldn't take that bet.

Trump has also been openly hostile to journalists-a sentiment that seemed to intensify toward the end of the campaign. Have reporters dealt with similar behavior by previous presidents?

It goes back to the nation's founding. Under John Adams, Congress passed the Sedition Act of 1798, making it illegal to publish "false, scandalous, and malicious" writing against the government-a law used to jail Benjamin Franklin Bache, grandson of Benjamin Franklin.

John F. Kennedy urged reporters to bury details of the Cuban Missile Crisis, and they complied. But that same deference during the Bay of Pigs helped conceal a disastrous military operation. Nixon didn't bother charming the press-he created an "enemies list" of reporters who dismantled his presidency in print.

President John F. Kennedy, left, meets with members of the Executive Committee of the National Security Council during the Cuban Missile Crisis. At right is Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara. Photo credit: Cecil Stoughton, public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Reagan spun narratives. George W. Bush's administration was noted for its restrictive approach toward the press, including limiting access to information and enforcing stringent controls over the dissemination of government data. Obama cracked down on leaks and secretly surveilled journalists. Each president, in his own way, reshaped the relationship between the press and power.

Presidents may change, but their hostility toward the press doesn't. The difference lies in how the media respond. Its job isn't to be liked-it's to hold power accountable. And history is clear: When the Fourth Estate bends, democracy breaks.

Some claim independent journalism platforms such as Substack, which was founded during the first Trump administration, are the industry's future. What type of reporting is done here that continues, or perhaps expands upon, the news media's traditional Fourth-Estate role?

Platforms like Substack, born amid the chaos of Trump's first term, are often hailed as the future of journalism-unfiltered, direct, and free from corporate overlords. Independent journalists act as their own editors and publishers, offering in-depth investigations and fearless opinions outside traditional media's constraints. In many ways, these platforms uphold the Fourth Estate's mission: holding power accountable. Substack has empowered disillusioned reporters to break stories about corruption, disinformation, and culture wars without fear of advertiser backlash or newsroom politics.

But independence comes with trade-offs. Without editorial oversight, some writers drift into unchecked, opinion-driven content, turning their platforms into echo chambers. This fragmentation is compounded by the subscription model itself. Most Americans only pay for 2-3 media subscriptions, usually prioritizing entertainment over news. When each writer charges separately, readers are forced to choose, making it easy to ignore crucial perspectives behind yet another paywall.

The result? Balkanization of audiences and diminished influence. While the New York Times reaches millions with a single exposé, most independent journalists have devoted followings in the tens of thousands-not millions. Instead of a shared public square, Substack risks creating silos where readers consume only what they already believe.

At its best, independent journalism expands the Fourth Estate's role, fostering direct, unfiltered connections between journalists and readers. At its worst, it splinters truth into niches. The future of journalism isn't about choosing between mainstream outlets and independents-it's about demanding integrity and access, so the truth reaches everyone, not just those who can afford it.

Journalism education at the collegiate level in the US began in the late 19th century and has of course changed over time. What form should journalism education take now?

Journalism education today stands at a crossroads, shaped by seismic shifts in media, politics, and technology. If the press is to reclaim its credibility and role as democracy's watchdog, journalism schools must adapt. That's exactly what I built my program to do: equip students with the tools to become one-person, peripatetic newsrooms-ready to handle any assignment in any medium.

Because nostalgia for journalism's "golden age" is a myth-a comforting lie we tell ourselves about a time when "just the facts" reporting supposedly kept power in check. In reality, those facts were filtered through the biases of the era, and today's challenges are far more insidious. Journalists don't just compete with rival outlets-they battle conspiracy theorists and influencers who amass armies of followers by spinning lies into virality. Our students must learn to do more than report; they must expose. They must connect the dots and show readers the stakes.

This is why ethics can't just be a quiet seminar-it must be a crash course in survival. Journalism schools need to ask hard questions: How do you hold the line when you're being doxxed and harassed? How do you resist the pressure to sensationalize your work for clicks? How do you report courageously without being consumed by the machine?

In my program, we teach more than storytelling-we teach resilience and responsibility. Because the goal isn't to tell "both sides" of a lie. It's to tell the truth. The future of journalism belongs to those unafraid to challenge power-including their own. That's the standard we should set.

James Devitt

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