The Orbanisation of American media is here

Hungarian prime minister Viktor Orban and his Fidesz government have meticulously used legal manoeuvres to subjugate unfriendly outlets and defang independent media. While the Media Council enforces vague standards of “balanced” or “moral” reporting, Fidesz politicians denounce critical journalists as foreign agents or traitors. A prime example is the radio station Klubradio, which lost its licence in 2021 on procedural pretexts after years of being branded “hostile”.

Under President Donald Trump, American media is being “Orbanised” in a similar way—not through bans or formal censorship, but through presidential power exercised via signals, leverage and regulatory alignment. The goal is to deliver a clear message: troublemaking is costly, compliance is safe.

Media organisations have begun practicing “anticipatory obedience”, adjusting their behaviour because they fear punishment.

While Trump has long slandered what he calls the “fake news media”, consistently attacking journalists’ credibility, his second term marks a shift from rhetorical assault to tangible action. Since January 2025, he has threatened to revoke broadcast licences, suggested that particular journalists should be investigated, and filed numerous lawsuits against CBS, the Wall Street Journal, the BBC and others. In response, media organisations have begun practicing “anticipatory obedience”, adjusting their behaviour because they fear punishment.

In September, after talk show host Jimmy Kimmel delivered a monologue that mocked the administration, Brendan Carr, the chairman of the Federal Communications Commission (FCC), threatened the show’s network ABC and questioned whether airing such content met broadcasters’ “public-interest obligations”. Before the day ended, two of the country’s largest station owners, Nexstar and Sinclair, pulled the show from their affiliates. ABC suspended Kimmel before eventually reversing course a week later. No rule had changed, yet the perceived risk to licences or merger approvals compelled these companies to act quickly in favour of the administration.

If anticipatory obedience shapes newsroom behaviour, ownership determines which behaviours can survive. In July, the administration green-lit the $8 billion sale of Paramount Global to Skydance Media, owned by known Trump ally David Ellison. Just weeks before, Paramount paid Trump $16 million to settle a defamation suit, fuelling speculation that Paramount had in practice paid for the approval of the merger. By acquiring Paramount, Ellison gained control of CBS. Promising to restore “balance,” Ellison swiftly appointed anti-woke crusader Bari Weiss as editor-in-chief and Ken Weinstein, the former CEO of conservative think tank the Hudson Institute, as ombudsman. There was no directive from the administration, but Trump was quick to share his praise.

Each step in this sequence was legal: a media company settles with the president; its sale is approved by aligned regulators; its new owner has clear political sympathies; senior leadership is replaced with critics of the “liberal media.” Taken together, they redefine what “responsible” journalism is and create a grey zone of approval under this second Trump term.

The same sequence could now unfold with CNN as Trump has inserted himself into the drama over the sale of its parent company, Warner Bros Discovery. After Netflix and Paramount showed interest, Trump publicly signalled his preference for Paramount—now with Ellison as its chairman. Just days after Warner Bros accepted the Netflix bid, Paramount launched a hostile counter-bid backed by Affinity Partners, a firm owned by Trump’s son-in-law Jared Kushner. Trump muddied the waters by claiming “I am not involved in [the deal]… I will be probably involved, maybe involved in the decision.” He later asserted that “it is imperative that CNN be sold.” In a sector dependent on regulatory approval, the message was unmistakable.

In Hungary, Orban relied on his childhood friend Lorinc Meszaros to buy up critical outlets and convert them into loyal ones. Ellison’s Paramount/CBS News takeover echoes the early stages of that pattern: a politically aligned buyer, a regulator that clears the path, and a newsroom that understands what incentives now govern its future.

Different channel, same station

Americans trust and consistently consume local news more than any other information source. Under Trump, changing ownership and consolidation of local stations are silently restructuring that ecosystem.

FCC rules cap station ownership at 39%, but Carr has been clear that he views these caps as “arcane”. If the rules change, it would pave the way for Nexstar’s $6.2 billion bid to acquire Tegna, a major operator of local news stations in the US. This move would give Nexstar control of 265 local stations, further expanding the dominance of America’s largest local media broadcast company. On top of that, Nexstar—and its competitor Sinclair—are already requiring local affiliates to broadcast editorials endorsing conservative positions that are delivered by trusted local anchors who appear non-partisan to viewers.

These editorials carry weight when simultaneous actions have been taken against public broadcasting. The One Big Beautiful Bill eliminated federal funding for NPR, PBS and the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, the only national, non-commercial news institutions in the US. Their weakening is not merely symbolic: it removes structural competition for large corporate broadcasters just as those broadcasters become more dependent on regulatory goodwill.

Hungary offers the clearest preview, even if it is not exact. Orban did not begin by shuttering newsrooms; he weakened public broadcasters through the Media Services and Support Trust Fund and enabled loyal businessmen to dominate private media with the creation of the Central European Press and Media Foundation (KESMA), a centralised media hub aligned with Fidesz. Just like Nexstar and Sinclair, KESMA-owned stations often run coordinated hit pieces against critics and target the few remaining independent journalists, like those from Atlatszo.

On Hungary’s track

The US is not Hungary. America’s press remains more pluralistic, its courts more independent and its civil society more resilient than Hungary’s. The return of Jimmy Kimmel’s show after public backlash, and continued investigative reporting by the former Pentagon press corps following their loss of credentialed access, show that there are limits to Trump’s pressure.

But Hungary’s lesson is that media capture does not happen overnight. It happens gradually, through incentives rather than commands, as regulatory discretion, ownership concentration and political signalling begin to align. In such an environment, journalists adjust not because they are ordered to, but because the path of least resistance increasingly runs through compliance. America has not lost its free press. But the conditions that make independent journalism possible are being eroded.