Weaponization of Free Speech
A photograph of a protest during the Free Speech Movement at the University of California, Berkeley in the 1960s. (Photo by Don Kechely. Free Speech Movement Photographs Collection, University Archives, The Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley.)
By Reed Greyserman ‘28
In today’s America, the same voices championing freedom of expression with one breath call for the silencing of their opponents in the next. It is a pattern that repeats across the entire political spectrum with alarming frequency.
In Florida, the GOP led government has restricted how race can be discussed under the “Stop WOKE” Act. Meanwhile, the same faction decries “cancel culture” as an existential threat to free expression. In our nation’s brightest institutions, progressive protestors block conservative voices from being heard, while the same groups vigorously defend the right of protestors to speak out against Israel’s actions in the recent war. This is the issue of American free speech in 2025: a fundamental principle invoked with religious fervor when politically convenient, but set aside with equal conviction when inconvenient.
Freedom of speech has been a pillar of American democracy since our founders ratified the Constitution in 1787, and it has been celebrated in political discourse by everyone from Thomas Jefferson to civil rights activists. Yet today, that bedrock value has deteriorated into little more than a political weapon, deployed to advance partisan interests rather than defended as a prerequisite for a free society. Free speech is absolutely sacred when it amplifies the partisan interest, and expendable when it challenges such interests. A dangerous pattern of “free speech for me, but not for thee” is occurring.
The weaponization of free speech is fearsome. It departs from the founders’ view that protecting expression, even that with which we disagree, is essential to human flourishing.
Consider the right-wing position on free expression in recent years. Conservative voices are willing to die on the hill of free speech when it comes to fighting against social media moderation policies or defending controversial campus speakers. Make no mistake, they are unreservedly correct on these points. Free speech means free speech. Apart from speech likely to incite “imminent lawless action” and other minor distinctions of what constitutes unprotected speech, our Supreme Court has upheld the First Amendment to be vastly permissive of speech and expressive conduct. Yet, these same ‘advocates’ for free speech have continuously supported restrictions on protests, threatened deportation for expressing ideological beliefs in the absence of material support, promoted legislation banning books, limited discussion on race and gender, and even floated jail time for flag-burning and protesting.
The GOP has pardoned those involved in the January 6th incident at our nation’s capital, people whom they consider to be peaceful protestors. Arguments against BLM and anti-Israel protests tend to center around vandalism and violence, but can we seriously believe that January 6th was peaceful and without vandalism? Approximately 140 police officers were injured and the Capitol suffered millions in property damage. Shouldn’t the same arguments against left-wing protests equally apply here? Yet they don’t; rather the opposite occurs and pardons are issued. The contradiction is troubling because apparently, free speech applies to conservative viewpoints but not to those that challenge conservative viewpoints.
Amusingly enough, if you look at January 6th from the other side, the same contradiction applies. Left-wing rhetoric around January 6th centers around the violence and vandalism that occurred, moving it beyond mere peaceful protest and into a violent one on par with insurrection. But the same violence and vandalism get muted in conversations surrounding protests in favor of left-wing viewpoints. The point here is not to defend a particular protest movement but rather to highlight how our society judges similar actions differently based on political alignment. If we apply different standards to evaluate protests based on if we agree with the message, we are flipping free speech on its head.
It doesn’t stop at January 6th; the pattern as a whole is mirrored on the left. Progressive voices vehemently defend the free speech rights of protesters, champion academic freedom, and oppose restrictive curriculum legislation. Here they find themselves on the right side of free speech. In doing so, they are defending the rights of the people to speak their conscience. As the great Justice Brennan wrote, “If there is a bedrock principle underlying the First Amendment, it is that the government may not prohibit the expression of an idea simply because society finds the idea itself offensive or disagreeable.”
The progressives win on free speech here, yet the same progressives simultaneously suppress conservative viewpoints. The leftward bias and censorship of conservative viewpoints across media and the social environment is no secret, and the American public agrees. The same contradiction apparent on the right applies to the left. Free speech is sacrosanct in protest, but not when the speech contradicts progressive values.
Events like campus disinvitations of conservative speakers, consistent use of the heckler’s veto to disrupt speech, calls for removing “harmful content” from online platforms, and the intimidation that conservative voices face on campuses are worrisome. Almost 68 percent of conservative students report self-censoring their views on campus. The recent events surrounding former Israeli Prime Minister Naftali Bennet’s appearance at Princeton University are troublesome. The same groups advocating for the free expression rights of anti-Israel protestors effectively silenced a pro-Israel voice by interrupting the event and eventually pulling the fire alarm. You cannot have it both ways.
The point here is not to sympathize with one side or another. There are many strong arguments across the political spectrum about where the line should be drawn on free speech. What is necessary is not that the line be equal for everyone, but that everyone applies the line evenly across all issues. The ideal is viewpoint neutrality, but it appears we have severe viewpoint favorability depending on which side of the aisle one sits.
Restrictions on free speech from both sides come from a mistaken belief that the best way to deal with so-called “bad speech” is by its restriction. The remedy to bad speech is not less speech but more. Justice Brandeis articulated this counterspeech doctrine in Whitney v. California (1927), writing “if there be time to expose through discussion, the falsehoods and fallacies, to avert the evil by the processes of education, the remedy to be applied is more speech, not enforced silence.” By restricting viewpoints, we rob society of reaching a better understanding of truth through dialogue.
Now, we must acknowledge legitimate tension exists between speech and other values. No serious person advocates for completely unrestricted speech in any context; the classic example of shouting fire in a movie theater pertains here. Some limits may be necessary, but the question does not pertain to the limits themselves, but rather the consistent, neutral application of the limits. The relevant question is if we are applying limitations on neutral principles or on political convenience. Far too often the answer is the latter. When politicians, activists, and even civilians ardently defend speech they agree with yet call for the restriction of speech with which they disagree, they reveal a commitment not to free speech and liberty but to partisanship and political games.
Such a partisan approach to free expression isn’t just amusing hypocrisy, it's an existential threat to the nature of American government. When arguably our most sacred constitutional right has disintegrated into a rhetorical weapon for partisan edge, we have destroyed the foundation on which meaningful discourse stands. Our culture has fractured on tribal lines between right and left. Intellectual honesty and freedom are sacrificed for politics. So, what can we do about it?
It begins with a simple but crucial recognition—we might be wrong. We are not perfect, we are imperfect. We are far from infallible beings. Heck, everything I write here might be wrong. But that is beautiful. It is where the power of free speech lies.
Acknowledging our own fallibility is the first step. When we can truly internalize the idea that our understandings are limited, that we may very well be mistaken on matters of politics, morality, and really anything, we naturally become more willing to hear opposing viewpoints. Because hearing different ideas is how we discover our own errors and refine our thinking.
History displays the dangers of certainty. In virtually every era, dominant groups have suppressed speech they deem to be harmful, offensive, or dangerous. Why? Because they are certain of themselves, they do not leave room for the idea that they may very well be wrong. The voices they silence become those that future generations view as visionaries. The Socrates we consider the founder of Western philosophy is the same Socrates who was put to death for views going against the prevailing orthodoxy. Galileo was placed under house arrest for promoting the idea that the Earth revolves around the sun, and now the same idea is taught in elementary schools. Acknowledging our own fallibility is how we break the selective, partisan weaponization of free speech. When we realize that we might be wrong, we become more willing to defend speech consistently rather than selectively. Intellectual humility forces us to apply the same standards to speech we disagree with as we do with speech we support. Again, because we might be wrong. The tribal approach to free speech described earlier dissolves when we realize no one, conservatives nor progressives, have a monopoly on truth. The clash of competing ideas tests our assumptions and reveals intellectual blindspots.
The future of American democracy depends on moving beyond weaponizing free speech for partisan gain and instead protecting all viewpoints equally. When we defend speech consistently instead of conveniently, we strengthen the foundation of a democracy built on the contest of ideas, not the suppression of dissent. Our freedom hinges not on silencing opponents but on facing our own capacity for error. The tribal weaponization of free speech will only end when both left and right acknowledge a simple truth: we might be wrong. And in that possibility lies the enduring value of free expression for all. As Daniel Kahneman once said, "I do enjoy having been wrong, because it now means I am less wrong than before."