Yesterday afternoon, I ran into two well-known political reporters while wrapping up at the driving range. They waved me over, and before I could even set down my club, we struck up a conversation. We exchanged the usual pleasantries—golf scores, family, the weather—but, as conversations often do, it quickly turned to politics. Before long, we were discussing the latest "controversy" in political media: the affidavit alleging that ABC News might have worked with the Harris campaign before the debate.
One of them shrugged, clearly unbothered by the idea. “Does it really matter?” he asked, with a hint of a grin. “They kind of have to do it at this point; the race is too close.” I raised an eyebrow and inquired, “You don’t sound too surprised?” He didn’t hesitate. “I’d be surprised if they didn’t do this,” laughing with a serious undertone.
The second reporter, nodding in agreement, jumped in. “I’m not upset if they did it; I’d be upset if they were dumb enough to get caught. I’m telling you right now, if it is true, Trump’s going to use it to paint himself as the victim again and weaponize it.”
On the drive home, I found myself reflecting on the conversation. Something about it bothered me, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what. I replayed their words in my head—their shrug, their laughter, and how casually they justified the idea of bending the rules. None of it seemed to faze them. And then it hit me—the real problem wasn’t what they said; it was that I wasn’t surprised by any of it.
The fact that none of it surprised me—that was the real problem. My lingering hope for a return to normalcy was telling me that I should be shocked by this, but I had gotten so used to the overt and covert biases under the false facade of objectivity that none of it seemed out of place anymore. I wasn’t upset the way I would have been a few years ago—it was to be expected. It had become so second nature that I was less troubled by what was happening and more irritated that anyone could still be surprised by it after everything we've seen over the last decade.
The ABC affidavit story is the perfect example of what’s gone wrong with the media. The document alleges that ABC worked directly with the Harris campaign prior to the debate, coordinating questions and shaping the event to give her an advantage. It claims that debate questions were shared with Harris’s team in advance and that her campaign dictated to the network which specific topics were off-limits. The affidavit also details further manipulation, including the decision to alter the size of Harris’s podium to make her appear larger and remove the visual power imbalance caused by her smaller stature—something that was clearly done. Additionally, it claims that the network agreed to fact-check Trump in real-time while giving Harris leniency.
ABC released a statement to the Daily Beast, saying: "ABC News followed the debate rules that both campaigns agreed on and that clearly state no topics or questions will be shared in advance with campaigns or candidates." This overly legal, hyper-compartmentalized statement tells us absolutely nothing. But what’s most telling is everything they didn’t say. They didn’t deny the accusations, and their carefully worded response leaves plenty of room for manipulation. Sure, they may not have given Harris the exact questions word-for-word, but what’s to stop them from providing questions that were extremely similar with only minimal, meaningless distinctions? They don’t deny having private negotiations with the campaign, they don’t deny agreeing to omit specific topics like Tony West or President Biden and his deteriorating mental state, and they ignore the bias accusations altogether. By sticking to technicalities, ABC may be "telling the truth," but their response feels even more evasive and calculated. Their nondenial perfectly embodies the misinformation disguised as truth that we've all come to expect from legacy media
And that’s the real issue. Whether every detail of this claim is proven or not is almost irrelevant—because even if some specifics are unverified, the broader truth of media bias is undeniable.
What’s happening with ABC and the Harris campaign is just one example of a far deeper problem. Objectivity is no longer valued by the partisans who dominate our institutions. It’s viewed as an obstacle to be removed, replaced by narratives crafted to serve political agendas. But the real problem isn’t just with the media—it’s with the select members of the public who still fail to recognize it.
If you’re still surprised by accusations like this, you’re probably one of those wide-eyed believers who still think the media is impartial—or that our institutions are still working for us. But that belief is the only thing still propping up the media’s credibility. The truth is, no one should be surprised anymore. We’ve watched the lines between journalism and activism blur for years. We’ve seen the media shape narratives, protect their preferred candidates, and manipulate the public time and time again. If this still surprises you, it’s because you’ve refused to acknowledge the reality staring you in the face.
The problem isn’t just that the media has lost its way. It’s that in our hearts, we still want to believe in them. We keep telling ourselves that “this time will be different”—but it won’t be. This will only change when the next generation of Americans circumvents the liars entirely and honest individuals replace these massive media institutions. The only thing keeping their credibility afloat is the public’s refusal to admit the truth: the media stopped serving us a long time ago. And as long as we continue to believe the facade, we are part of the problem. But it doesn’t have to be that way. The time for change is now. The question is, will you be part of the movement that demands truth, or will you keep clinging to the lie?