By Frank Macek
I remember the first time I heard the voices on NPR drifting through my family’s kitchen like a warm breeze. I was eight years old. It was early morning, and the smell of coffee filled the air while Bob Edwards calmly shared the news of the world on "Morning Edition." That moment stuck with me. It was the first time I realized news didn’t have to shout at you to get your attention. It could be gentle, thoughtful, and full of truth. It could invite you in.
Let’s be clear: public media isn’t a luxury. It’s a lifeline. And if we allow that line to be cut, we all lose.
Whether it’s PBS’s masterful storytelling on "Frontline," Ken Burns’ breathtaking historical documentaries, or the soulful morning banter of local NPR hosts, public media has an unmatched ability to educate, inform, and inspire. It reaches 99% of American households. It serves rural areas commercial outlets overlook. It broadcasts in times of emergency. It teaches our children. It gives voice to the voiceless. And it does all this on the slimmest of budgets.
Less than $2 per American per year goes to support the CPB. That’s it. That’s the cost of a cup of coffee. For that price, we get programs like "Sesame Street," which has helped generations of children learn to read, count, and treat others with kindness. In Northeast Ohio, we get stations like WKSU/WCPN and WCLV on the radio side and WVIZ on tv side. Nationally, radio stations like KQED in San Francisco, or WNYC in New York, put local issues under the microscope when no one else will. We get reporters who bring facts, not fluff.
Public media exists for the public good, not for profit. That’s a rare thing in today’s information age, where algorithms often dictate what we see and hear. Public media doesn’t chase clicks. It chases clarity. It respects its audience enough to challenge them, to tell them the truth, and to treat them as citizens, not consumers. In a time when democracy itself feels fragile, when misinformation spreads faster than facts, and when trust in institutions is at a record low, we should be doubling down on the one institution that still consistently earns the public’s trust: public media.
Polling from the Knight Foundation and Gallup has shown public media remains among the most trusted sources of news in the United States. Not cable news. Not social media. Public media.
Let’s think about that. This isn’t just about the coasts. It’s about communities in Kansas, Mississippi, Ohio, Montana — places where PBS or NPR may be the only nonpartisan news source. This is about schoolchildren in Appalachia who rely on PBS LearningMedia in classrooms. It’s about hurricane warnings that come across the public airwaves in Florida or wildfire alerts in California. We cut funding for public media, and we silence these voices.
For all the talk of fiscal responsibility, cutting public media funding is a false economy. The CPB’s federal funding acts as seed money. Stations use it to leverage private donations, corporate sponsorships, and local partnerships. Every federal dollar generates about six additional dollars. You cut that initial investment, and the whole funding ecosystem begins to crumble. Meanwhile, what do we gain from defunding? A minuscule budget reduction — 0.01% of federal spending. That’s pennies in a trillion-dollar budget. It’s like fixing a leaky roof by throwing away the whole house.
I get it — some critics say public media has a bias. But I challenge anyone to spend a week truly engaging with it — listening to a full broadcast of "All Things Considered," watching "PBS NewsHour," or exploring local investigative pieces from stations like WBEZ or KPBS — and not come away with a broader understanding of the world. Public media makes you smarter, not angrier.
And what’s more, it reflects us. It gives us symphonies from across the nation, folk music from our forgotten towns, stories from immigrants and veterans, from Native communities and new citizens. It brings together a tapestry of voices that commercial media often ignores. In doing so, it reminds us we are more alike than we are different.
As someone who’s worked in television for decades, I’ve seen the contrast up close. Commercial pressures are relentless — the ad buys, the ratings battles, the brand deals. And while there’s nothing wrong with striving for profit, it shouldn’t be the only model. We need space for something quieter. Something braver. Something like public media. I’ve had the honor of working alongside journalists who started their careers at NPR affiliates or PBS stations. The training they received there — rooted in ethics, in fairness, in deep reporting — carried into everything they did later. Public media isn’t just a content provider; it’s a training ground. A standard bearer.
So what can we do? We can speak up. Call your representatives. Email your senators. Demand that public media funding not only be preserved but strengthened. We can donate, if we’re able, to our local stations. We can tell our friends why it matters. We can turn the volume up on the quiet voice that has been keeping us informed, inspired, and connected for more than 50 years.
President Trump and members of Congress: this isn’t about politics. It’s about people. Real people. People like the child learning to read in Tulsa. The grandmother in Montana who tunes in for her favorite symphony. The college student in Cleveland getting a deeper understanding of the world.
You want to build a stronger America? Don’t silence one of its most unifying voices. Support public media. It’s the best $2 you’ll ever spend.
I welcome your feedback. Email me at fmacek@gmail.com