The United States recently marked its 250th birthday, and the occasion came with no shortage of spectacle. Fireworks filled the skies as millions celebrated across the country — and far beyond it. In France, the Eiffel Tower was illuminated; in Japan, fireworks marked the moment. French fighter jets even soared over New York City, trailing red, white, and blue in tribute to America’s first major ally. At the same time, white nationalists marched through the nation’s capital, a grim reminder that the country has always been defined by contradictions.
That 250-year milestone is measured from the Declaration of Independence in 1776, a bold and extraordinary document that still captures much of America’s spirit. But the nation’s deeper framework would not arrive until more than a decade later, with the ratification of the Constitution. That is the document that makes it possible for me to write these words today. And it is a document that now needs defending.
The First Amendment remains so powerful that people around the world, even in countries far outside the reach of US law, often speak as if its protections belong to them, too. It is America’s foundational theory of a free society: the framers’ first remedy for a democratic experiment they understood would always be flawed, unfinished, and in need of repair through open expression.
The Verge exists because of that enduring project, and we believe in it profoundly. The First Amendment gives us confidence that speaking freely should not lead to imprisonment. But journalism and public expression are never permanently secure; they are repeatedly challenged, pressured, and attacked. That is why legal protection remains essential, even alongside what we believe is one of the strongest editorial ethics policies in the industry.
The First Amendment reads as follows:
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.
It is a striking and elegant promise. Yet from the very beginning, Americans have had to struggle to keep that promise intact.
John Adams, a fierce revolutionary who denounced British tyranny and helped win independence, badly undermined the First Amendment when he became the nation’s second president. His Alien and Sedition Acts of 1798 look, in hindsight, disturbingly Trumpian: hostile toward foreigners, expansive in their grant of presidential authority to arrest, imprison, or deport people, and most dangerously, punitive toward American citizens who published “scandalous and malicious” writings against the government. Adams no doubt loved the country he helped create, but he faltered when confronted with the full scale of its freedoms.
Fast-forward to World War I, when the First Amendment was again under attack, this time by the Supreme Court. The court’s fearful message about free speech still sticks with us. You’ve probably heard the phrase “you can’t shout ‘fire’ in a crowded theater” — not actually true. The misquoting and misinterpretation here is darkly funny: Trevor Timm, in The Atlantic, notes the court decision the phrase refers to was actually about whether an American socialist “could be convicted under the Espionage Act for writing and distributing a pamphlet that expressed his opposition to the draft.” It almost sounds ripped from contemporary headlines. (Nearly a century later, the Espionage Act would be used again to target, this time, a New York Times journalist.)
Misunderstandings about the First Amendment still abound. On the front lines we most readily see it in police confrontations where armed agents of the state bungle their constitutional duties with disastrous results.
Cops are routinely so terrible at understanding America’s foundational law that there’s now a cottage industry of streamers and influencers who work as “First Amendment auditors” — people who intentionally flex their right to record in public to bait dummies into abridging their freedom of speech. It’s easy to go down TikTok rabbit holes where you’ll find someone recording an illegal traffic stop from inside their car, or a fully kitted streamer recording harassment on a public sidewalk. When the police inevitably show up to hassle someone for exercising their rights, the stakes are immediately raised.
In a best-case scenario, a higher-ranking cop arrives and dispels their colleagues’ unconstitutional conduct. In other cases, someone ends up getting detained or arrested for completely protected behavior.
It’s even worse than usual in 2026, because we now live under an administration that’s flooding cities with barely trained federal agents who see constitutionally protected behavior as a threat. This has resulted in deaths, assaults on reporters, and an untold broader cost of regular people having to endure the immense burden of confronting the justice system simply for doing things they have the fundamental right to do. The right to speak and assemble is especially valid when it’s in protest of the government. That’s the whole point of this thing! And yet.
The latest assaults on the First Amendment have been encouraged by people all the way up the chain of command. We’re being betrayed by officials who are supposed to protect us, people who swore an oath to the Constitution and ought to know better. The FCC is not supposed to regulate speech but has nonetheless become a nightmare of incompetence and civil rights suppression. Do you miss Stephen Colbert on The Late Show? Thank the Trump administration, which now operates a mob-like patronage system that has cowed the billionaire princes who own America’s broadcast networks. Or ask Jimmy Kimmel, who got kicked off the air after conservatives went nuclear over his tame remarks about Charlie Kirk, a man who spent his time poisoning our national discourse with none of the grace or wit employed by national talk show hosts.
The Trump regime in general has an incredibly disturbing record on free speech, from science to the operations of the largest social networks. Donald Trump rails against anyone who doesn’t bow to him, and the list of his victims is too long to enumerate. But here’s an important one: The president once threatened to jail Meta CEO Mark Zuckerberg for life. Zuckerberg is far more wealthy and powerful than Trump in many respects, but what did he do? Two years after the threat, Zuckerberg showed up on the White House lawn to celebrate Trump’s insane UFC fight show. He tapped out against a bully.
This is what makes everything really messy. We live in an age dominated by communication platforms that are so wealthy, powerful, and pervasive that they seem practically unrestrained by the US government, but paradoxically must still cozy up to a regime that has no actual respect for them or for their free speech. Trump once threatened to blow up the entire internet because he wanted platforms to censor things to his advantage. The CEOs of those companies still indulge him with flattery and photo ops.
This blurring of public and private interests has fueled a funhouse-mirror idea of “free speech culture” that’s actually designed to crack down on free speech. The loudest people crying about free speech culture do so as if theirs is not the freest ever in history, while simultaneously supporting actual government censorship, like banning books.
I can’t say it better than Ken White has, so just go read him on this point. White explains how “free speech culture” has emboldened the Trump admin and others to engage in real censorship. “When enough people think that all of free speech—including free speech law—is bullshit, then free speech rights won’t be enforced,” he writes.
Our constitutional punchbowl has been spiked by madmen who profit from confusion about our rights and the rule of law. It doesn’t have to be this way. Just remember: The First Amendment is a restraint on the government that prevents it from prohibiting your speech.
Moreover: Actual censorship is government suppression of speech. It’s entirely understandable that we’re confused about what censorship is because of how hard many people have worked to keep us confused. A social media platform moderating your post is not censorship — it’s actually free speech. Yes, that sounds completely counterintuitive, but it’s true. The alternative is a situation where the government forces private citizens to publish things they don’t want to, including hate speech.
Much was unsaid here, including the history of immense pain and suffering that has kept the First Amendment and our broader rights alive. I won’t claim to know what the fix is for our current mess, but I’ll say I really hate when our leaders say things like “this is not who we are” when they talk precisely about the things that define who we are. And part of who we are is a coalition that claims to want free speech in theory while simultaneously suppressing it in practice.
So what can you do? Yes, of course, vote. But there’s much more to do. Write or call your congresspeople (I promise this does matter). Participate in local elections, especially for school boards, which are on the front lines of book banning. And if you’re reading this, thank you for subscribing — but consider also supporting other newsrooms.
