Misinformation Isn't New in U.S.
While you might think this is a description of the U.S. circa 2022, these were actually the circumstances that the nation found itself in at the beginning of the Adams administration.
This backdrop isn't all these two periods of history have in common, either. As Americans today are engaged in a great debate over how to handle the spread of misinformation, it would behoove us to reflect on how the first generation of Americans overcame this very issue.
Efforts to contain misinformation have become a growing point of contention in the United States as of late. Social media giants flag and deplatform individuals who spread allegedly false information at an increasing rate. Of course, who gets to distinguish between genuinely false information and areas with legitimate room for disagreement is where things get messy.
>From the discourse surrounding COVID over the past two years, to the more recent development of the Russian/Ukraine conflict, misinformation is abundant. For many, the solution is obvious — collective censorship seems the best way to overcome the lies influencing our political discourse. Joe Rogan has controversial opinions about COVID? Boycott Spotify. Tucker Carlson’s latest monologue transgresses the popular narrative on the Russia/Ukraine conflict? Label him a tool of Russian propaganda. After all, any falsehood these influencers spread may result in the loss of life in the real world, right?
So goes the popular rationale in favor of censorship. It’s the reason why Congress has been so adamant about having the big tech conglomerates “do something” to curb the rising tide of what they consider to be harmful speech.
But before we fall prey to such a seemingly simple line of reasoning, we should look to history to see how poorly censorship has played out in the past. It’s a lesson Americans had to learn the hard way in 1798. As war with France seemed to become an increasingly real possibility for the Adams administration, the Federalists in Congress started to suggest rather drastic measures. By the summer of 1798, Congress passed four bills, each one more controversial than the last.
The first three dealt with America’s immigration system, in an attempt to control the amount of French nationals coming to the United States to become citizens. The fear was that these immigrants would possess more loyalty toward their country of origin rather than the United States.
That was the official position, anyway.
In truth, it had just as much to do with politics as it did with national security concerns. Immigrants, particularly from France, were more well known to side with Jeffersonian Republicans than they were with Federalists. Likewise, the Republicans were happy to welcome them, viewing them as allies of liberty.
This dynamic prompted Federalists like Alexander Hamilton to accuse Republicans of being “more Frenchmen than Americans” and to say they were going “to immolate the independence and welfare of their country at the shrine of France.”
In other words, if France were to invade the United States, the Republicans and their French allies would be all too eager to offer their country over without a fight.
The Sedition Act of 1798 was a direct challenge to the First Amendment itself. It prohibited anyone from “writing, printing, uttering or publishing any false, scandalous and malicious” content against the Federalist-controlled Government. What resulted was nothing short of a Constitutional crisis. Over the next two years, newspaper editors were imprisoned for printing allegedly seditious content. One rather notable editor imprisoned was the grandson of the late Benjamin Franklin — Benjamin Franklin Bache. Bache was perhaps the most high-profile casualty as well. He died in a jail cell while the yellow fever epidemic was sweeping the city of Philadelphia in 1798.
Newspaper editors were not the only victims of the law. Federal office holders even fell prey to the Sedition Act. Congressman Matthew Lyon of Vermont — an Irish immigrant and vocal Republican, accused the Adams administration of being full of “ridiculous pomp, foolish adulation, and selfish avarice.” He was arrested and imprisoned under the Sedition Act. Even Vice President Thomas Jefferson worried that his letters were being intercepted and monitored by officials enforcing the law. Conveniently, he was the only federal office holder not protected from “false, scandalous and malicious” content as the law was written.
Today, though some have entertained the idea, imprisonment is not a threat lingering over the heads of those accused of spreading “false, scandalous and malicious” information. However, we can see parallels between the arguments that the Federalists used in support of the Sedition Act and those used to support deplatforming today. It’s easy to suggest that we shouldn’t give a platform to those who spread false information. But without robust debate and free flowing conversation, the truth isn’t always that obvious.
Free speech the elixir for misinformation
After a brutal presidential election in 1800, Thomas Jefferson emerged victorious. He contemplated that very question as he prepared his first inaugural address. To him, the answer provided a sense of clarity, and defined the very essence of the American spirit.
On March 4, 1801, he reminded Americans that the “error of opinion” must be tolerated in a free country, so long as “reason is left free to combat it.” There’s only one true safeguard against misinformation, and it’s not in the hands of a few gatekeepers. Jefferson argued that it was in the hands of the public, capable of reason with “the diffusion of information.”
So long as people are free to question with boldness, misinformation cannot long stand undisturbed.
