When Reporting Becomes Criminal: The New Assault on the First Amendment
By Marie Brophy, Managing Editor
This country was built on free speech and a free press. For nearly 250 years, those principles have been our democratic backbone. But in the opening weeks of 2026, something deeply unsettling happened.
Two journalists — Don Lemon, a nationally known media figure, and Georgia Fort, an independent reporter in Minnesota — were arrested while covering a protest tied to immigration enforcement.
This wasn’t sensationalism. It wasn’t partisan theater. It was journalism. And that is exactly what the First Amendment exists to protect.
The protest took place at a St. Paul church whose pastor also works as an Immigration and Customs Enforcement official. Demonstrators gathered to challenge what they saw as an alarming overlap between spiritual authority and federal enforcement power. Lemon and Fort were there as reporters. Lemon repeatedly identified himself as press. Fort livestreamed the event. Neither organized the protest. Neither directed participants. They were documenting a public moment of clear civic importance.
Yet both were arrested by federal authorities. Lemon’s arrest was especially troubling: he was taken into custody despite earlier judicial skepticism about whether charges were even justified. He was later released, but the message had already landed — not just for him, but for every journalist watching. These arrests aren’t bureaucratic errors. They’re part of a growing and dangerous pattern: treating journalists who cover dissent as if they are part of it.
When reporters fear arrest for doing their jobs — especially when covering protests critical of government power — the chilling effect is immediate. Journalists hesitate. Editors pull back. Independent reporters, already vulnerable, face even greater risk. And the public loses access to unfiltered truth.
This danger falls hardest on journalists of color and independent media workers, who are disproportionately targeted and less likely to receive institutional protection.
When the government selectively criminalizes journalism, it deepens existing inequities and silences the voices democracy most needs. The First Amendment wasn’t written to protect comfortable speech. It was written to protect the kind that makes powerful people uneasy.
Press freedom isn’t just the absence of censorship. It’s the ability to observe, document, and report without fear of retaliation. When authorities blur the line between witnessing and participating, press freedom becomes conditional — something granted by the state instead of guaranteed by the Constitution. That’s not a legal technicality. It’s a democratic emergency.
Supporters of aggressive enforcement often claim these arrests are about “law and order.” But history shows that governments don’t need to jail every journalist to suppress the press — they only need to make a few high‑profile examples. Fear does the rest.
If journalists can be arrested simply for being present at protests, then protests become media‑free zones. Power operates in the dark. Accountability evaporates. The public is left with official narratives instead of independent reporting. That should alarm everyone.
Progressives have long understood that civil rights, immigrant justice, and democratic accountability depend on a free press. You cannot challenge abuses of power if the people documenting those abuses are treated as criminals.
The arrests of Don Lemon and Georgia Fort force a blunt question: What does press freedom mean if it only applies when journalists avoid the stories that matter most?
A democracy worthy of the name does not arrest reporters for doing their jobs. It protects them — especially when their reporting makes the powerful uncomfortable.
This moment demands more than outrage. It demands clarity.
The First Amendment is not a suggestion. It is a promise. And that promise only holds if we defend it when it’s under attack.
When reporting becomes a crime, silence becomes policy — and democracy cannot survive silence.
The views and opinions expressed by volunteer contributors are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the positions of The Union, a single issue organization that welcomes all and is dedicated to protecting democracy.
Source: Columbia Journalism Review - Jan 30
About the Author
Marie Brophy has been part of The Union since 2023, supporting both the Social Media and Substack teams. She also serves on the Pennsylvania team and works as the Director of Social Media, Partnerships, and Grassroots Education for our partner organization, BlueVote.org.





