President Donald Trump’s pen struck public media, and PBS is fighting back. On Friday, PBS filed a lawsuit against the Trump administration, contesting an executive order that aims to gut federal funding for public television.
PBS’s legal action targets Trump’s May 1, 2025, executive order, which directed the Corporation for Public Broadcasting to halt funding for PBS and NPR. The lawsuit, filed in a Washington court, claims the order violates the First Amendment and the Public Broadcasting Act of 1967.
The Washington Examiner reported that Trump’s order didn’t mince words, accusing PBS and NPR of pushing biased coverage. He argued that the modern media landscape, brimming with diverse outlets, renders government-funded news obsolete.
But PBS counters that its programming, from Sesame Street to Frontline, fulfills a congressional mandate, not a partisan agenda.
The executive order, signed on May 1, 2025, demanded that the CPB cancel direct funding to PBS and NPR to the fullest extent legally possible.
Trump’s rationale? He claimed public media fails to deliver “fair, accurate, unbiased, and nonpartisan” news, a standard he believes the CPB must enforce.
“The CPB fails to abide by these principles to the extent it subsidizes NPR and PBS,” Trump’s order declared. Nice try, but PBS isn’t buying it. The network insists its content is neither partisan nor biased, and the Constitution bars the president from controlling its programming.
PBS’s lawsuit argues that Trump’s directive is an unprecedented assault on public television’s autonomy. Lawyers called it a “presidential directive attacking PBS and its member stations,” one that could unravel decades of public broadcasting. Actions have consequences, and PBS is betting the courts will agree.
PBS’s legal filing highlights its storied legacy, citing beloved programs like Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood and Ken Burns’s documentaries.
These, they argue, align with Congress’s vision for public media, not Trump’s caricature of a partisan machine. The network’s not just fighting for funding—it’s fighting for its identity.
A PBS spokesperson emphasized the gravity of the decision to sue. “After careful deliberation, PBS concluded that it was necessary to take legal action,” they told The Washington Post. That’s a polite way of saying they’re done playing nice with executive overreach.
Trump’s order leaned heavily on the idea that the media world has changed since 1967, when the CPB was born. “Government funding of news media in this environment is not only outdated but corrosive,” he wrote. It’s a zinger, but PBS argues it’s a misfire that ignores its unique role in serving underserved communities.
Federal funding, while not the bulk of PBS’s budget, is no small potatoes. PBS CEO Paula Kerger noted last month that about 15% of their budget comes from federal dollars, compared to under 1% for NPR. Losing that chunk could kneecap local stations and limit educational programming.
NPR, for its part, isn’t sitting idly by. The network filed a similar lawsuit earlier in May 2025, echoing PBS’s claims of constitutional violations. It’s a one-two punch against what both see as an existential threat to public media’s independence.
PBS’s lawyers are crystal clear: the president can’t defund a network just because he dislikes its content. They are hiding behind the Public Broadcasting Act of 1967, which they say shields public media from political meddling. Trump’s order, they argue, is a textbook case of the government trying to pull the plug on free speech.
The lawsuit’s outcome could ripple far beyond PBS’s studios. If the courts side with Trump, it might embolden further attacks on media outlets that don’t toe the administration’s line. If PBS wins, it’s a reminder that even presidents aren’t above the law.
