From the Right
We are more connected than ever before—and yet, perhaps, never more divided.
In a world saturated with information, the media claims to inform us, but often serves to distort, to polarize, and to dictate. These institutions—once trusted to deliver truth—have evolved into self-appointed narrators of our reality. They shape the lens through which we view the world, ourselves, and each other. Whether we engage directly or not, their influence is inescapable. Even if we unplug, we still live among people who haven’t. And through them, the narrative seeps in.
The uncomfortable truth is this: we tend to judge the importance of an event by how much attention it receives in the media. It’s not merit that determines meaning, but coverage. If the media elevates it, it matters. If they ignore it, it fades. That’s not just influence—that’s control.
This isn’t a flaw in the system. It is the system.
Media has the power to inform, unite, and inspire. But more often, it divides, incites, and exploits. Why? Because unity doesn’t drive engagement. Outrage does. Conflict sells. The more fragmented we are, the more dependent we become—on them, on systems, on narratives that tell us who we are and who we should fear.
Imagine if, instead of pushing us to take sides, media sought to bring us together. If stories were framed not to pit us against one another, but to remind us of our shared humanity. Instead, we’re told not just what happened—but what it means, how to feel about it, and who to blame. We are urged to question our own eyes and trust someone else’s conclusion.
This is not journalism. This is persuasion wearing the mask of neutrality.
From a young age, many of us are conditioned to obey authority. As children, we’re often taught that disagreeing with an adult is inherently wrong, regardless of the context. As adults, we’re expected to submit to institutions—governments, corporations, churches—that claim moral authority while often demanding silent compliance. Dialogue is replaced by dogma. Critical thinking, replaced by conformity.
Growing up poor accelerates this process. Work begins early. Choices shrink. Life becomes about survival, not self-actualization. The world doesn’t ask what you believe. It tells you what to believe—and punishes deviation in quiet, consistent ways.
Religion, for many, offers hope. But for others, it introduces shame. “Jesus died for your sins,” we are told—implying we are born in debt. That our worth is conditional. That we are broken by default. Systems thrive when we believe we are small.
Division as Strategy, Not Accident
When we all watched the video of George Floyd’s final moments, we witnessed a man’s life being taken. We saw it with our own eyes. But more than that—we were told what to believe about what we saw. We weren’t allowed to simply grieve or demand justice—we were pushed to take sides. A moment of shared humanity became a battleground.
The phrase “Black Lives Matter” became a rallying cry—but also, a dividing line. It implied that many people believe those lives don’t matter, and for some, the phrasing felt exclusive. “All Lives Matter,” a phrase that could have united people, was quickly condemned. Why? Because unity wasn’t the goal. Division was.
We rarely hear words like “equality” or “unity” from mainstream media. Not because they don’t matter—but because they don’t sell. Outrage sells. Conflict engages. Fear keeps people coming back for more.
Because when people are united, they’re harder to control. There can be no elite without an underclass. No rulers without the ruled. A society that sees itself clearly—as neighbors, as equals, as human—is a threat to systems built on comparison and division.
We’ve been told not to blame the messenger. But when the messenger chooses the message, shapes its tone, and profits from its consequences—then yes, we must hold them accountable. The freedom of the press is sacred. But with freedom comes responsibility. That responsibility is not to manipulate with an agenda, but to inform with integrity.
We don’t need perfect journalism. We need honest journalism. If you want to persuade, do it openly. Declare your angle. Show your face. Don’t pretend to be neutral while pulling the strings of public opinion.
A New Direction: From Control to Connection
If we all live in the same world, shouldn’t our shared goal be to make it the best one possible?
Imagine a world where our leaders speak to everyone, not just their base. Where the media uses its immense power to uplift, not to divide. Where the stories we consume remind us of our shared struggles and collective potential. Where difference is not danger, but strength. Where the loudest voice is not the most extreme—but the most compassionate.
This isn’t idealism. It’s responsibility. And if those in power refuse to meet that responsibility, then maybe it’s time we find new leaders. Or maybe, fewer leaders altogether. Fewer gatekeepers between truth and people. Fewer filters between reality and understanding.
We’re not asking for perfection. We’re not even asking for agreement. We’re asking for transparency. For honesty. For the right to form our own beliefs in a free and open society. If influence is power, then wield it with care.
Because we are not enemies. We are neighbors. Parents. Workers. Children. Seekers. We are each trying to make sense of a complicated world. The least we can do is stop being told who to hate while we’re doing it.
Those who shape the narrative must understand their duty. It is not to divide us, exploit us, or turn us against each other. It is to inform us—so that we can build strong, compassionate communities for the next generation.
We deserve better. And more importantly—we are capable of better.
Daniel Max Reynolds is a day trader and author from Swansboro, NC.
