Defunding the Corporation for Public Broadcasting

 

         By Gene Aronowitz

 

I’ve always been a fan of public broadcasting. I listen to classical music on WMHT, my local public radio station, as I did with WQXR when I lived in New York City. There was a time when I never missed Morning Edition, an extraordinary news program on National Public Radio (NPR), and would sometimes catch All Things Considered. I fondly remember Bob Edwards, who was always so calm, clear, considerate, and credible. These days, I always watch the Memorial Day Concert and periodically look in on American Experience, Frontline, American Masters, and Great Performances, all presented by the Public Broadcasting Service (PBS).

For half a century, the Corporation for Public Broadcasting (CPB) had been a backer of NPR, PBS, and local public radio and TV. In April 2025, President Trump issued an executive order aimed at ending federal funding for public media, and the administration subsequently submitted a spending "rescissions" package to Congress. In July, Congress passed the Rescissions Act of 2025, which rescinded the CPB’s advance appropriations for fiscal years 2026 and 2027. Then the Senate Appropriations Committee excluded funding for the CPB in its FY 2026 Labor, Health and Human Services, Education, and Related Agencies Appropriations Bill, confirming the end of federal funding for the organization.

Since the 1970s, Congress has made several unsuccessful attempts to defund CPB. These efforts were primarily led by Republicans who considered the funding a waste of taxpayers’ money. They also accused public media of having a liberal bias, a ridiculous claim based on my listening and watching.

President Trump tried to eliminate CPB in his first term. His budget proposals eliminated its funding, but Congress allocated the funds anyway. In 2025, he was successful. It finally happened.

I will miss the programs I watch now if they are canceled, but what saddens me are my recollections of the children’s programs I watched with my kids as they grew up, starting in the mid-1970s. I particularly remember Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood and Sesame Street, programs that were captivating for all of us, young and old, and had a great deal to teach. The songs "Won't You Be My Neighbor?" and “Bein’ Green” have been embedded in my head since those days and will likely remain there, at least I hope not.

Some high-quality programs will likely continue without federal funding, while others will not. I anticipate an unfortunate and regrettable loss for all of us.

 

A version of this memoir is included in the book 23 More Memoirs.