Lynn Greenky is an Associate Professor of Communication and Rhetorical Studies at Syracuse University.
Elon Musk has claimed he believes in free speech no matter what. He calls it a bulwark against tyranny in America and promises to reconstruct Twitter, which he now owns, so that its policy on free expression “ matches the law.” Yet his grasp of the First Amendment – the law that governs free speech in the U.S. – appears to be quite limited. And he’s not alone.
I am a lawyer and a professor who has taught constitutional concepts to undergraduate students for over 15 years and has written a book for the uninitiated about the freedom of speech; it strikes me that not many people educated in American schools, whether public or private – including lawyers, teachers, talking heads and school board members – appear to have a working knowledge about the right to free speech embedded in the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution.
But that doesn’t have to be the case.
In short, the First Amendment enshrines the freedom to speak one’s mind. It’s not written in code and does not require an advanced degree to understand. It simply states: “Congress shall make no law … abridging the freedom of speech.” The liberties embraced by that phrase belong to all of us who live in the United States, and we can all become knowledgeable about their breadth and limitations.
There are just four essential principles.
1. It’s only about the government
The Bill of Rights – the other name for the first 10 amendments to the U.S. Constitution – like the Constitution itself and all the other amendments, sets limits only on the relationship between the U.S. government and its people.
It does not apply to interactions in other nations, nor interactions between people in the U.S. or companies. If the government is not involved, the First Amendment does not apply.
The First Amendment ensures that Twitter is, in fact, free of government restrictions against spreading misinformation and disinformation or virtually anything else. The company is similarly free to expel any users who offend Musk’s personal sensibilities. They can be booted off Twitter and any charges of “Censorship!” don’t apply.
2. For decades, speech has faced very few limits
Freedom of expression was understood by the nation’s founders to be a natural, unalienable right that belongs to every human being.
Over the course of the first 120-plus years of the country’s democratic experiment, judicial interpretation of that right slowly evolved from a limited to an expansive view. In the middle of the 20th century, the Supreme Court ultimately concluded that because the right to speak freely is so fundamental, it is subject to restriction only in limited circumstances.
It is now an accepted doctrine that tolerance for discord is built into the very fabric of the First Amendment. In the words of one of the most revered Supreme Court justices, Louis D. Brandeis, “ it is hazardous to discourage thought, hope and imagination; … fear breeds repression; … repression breeds hate; … hate menaces stable government.”
Opinions, viewpoints and beliefs – which are sometimes based on provable fact, other times on hypothetical theories and occasionally on lies and conspiracies – all contribute to what constitutional scholars and lawyers refer to as the “ marketplace of ideas.” Similar to the commercial marketplace, the marketplace of ideas subjects all products to competition. The hope is that only the best will survive.
Therefore, members of the Westboro Baptist Church can picket the funerals of fallen soldiers with signs disparaging the LGBTQ+ community, Nazi hate groups can hold rallies and civil rights groups can participate in lunch-counter protests. The ideas expressed by each of these groups represent one perspective in the public debate about rights and privileges, government responsibility and religion. Other people and groups may disagree, but their perspectives are also protected from government censorship and repression.
Messages communicated by means other than speech or writing are generally protected by the First Amendment, too. A jean jacket bearing the Vietnam-era anti-war slogan “ F*ck the Draft ” is protected, as is the act of burning a United States flag in front of a crowd. These were potentially more emotionally powerful than politely worded statements opposing government policies.
3. But not all speech is protected
The government does, in fact, have the power to regulate some speech. When the rights and liberties of others are in serious jeopardy, speakers who provoke others into violence, wrongfully and recklessly injure reputations or incite others to engage in illegal activity may be silenced or punished.
People whose words cause actual harm to others can be held liable for that damage. Right-wing commentator Alex Jones found that out when courts ordered him to pay more than US$1 billion in damages for his statements about, and treatment of, parents of children who were killed in the 2012 Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting in Newtown, Connecticut.
So, abortion opponents can say what they wish but can’t threaten or terrorize abortion providers. And the white supremacists who rallied in Charlottesville, Virginia, in 2017 can shout to the rafters that Jews will not replace them, but they can be held liable for the intimidation, harassment and violence they used to amplify their words.
Rules about incitement to illegal action are part of the U.S. Department of Justice’s investigation into whether former President Donald Trump is at all responsible for the violence at the Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021. On that day, citing unproven, even disproved, events, Trump delivered a speech insisting the 2020 presidential election was rife with fraud.
However, the First Amendment doesn’t protect only true statements. Trump has a constitutional right to advocate for his perspective. Even his references to violence might be considered shielded from criminal prosecution by the superpower of the First Amendment. That superpower would evaporate only if a court finds that, when he spoke the words that day, “And if you don’t fight like hell, you’re not going to have a country anymore,” his intent was to incite the violence that followed.
4. What’s legal isn’t always morally correct
Finally, and perhaps most importantly: Moral boundaries to acceptable speech are different, and often much narrower, than constitutional boundaries. They should not be conflated or confused.
The First Amendment right to speak freely as an exercise of people’s natural rights does not mean everything anyone says anywhere is morally acceptable. Constitutionally speaking, ignorant, demeaning and vitriolic speech – including hate speech – are all protected from government repression, even though they may be morally offensive to the majority.
Still, some people insist that malicious and emotionally hurtful speech adds no value to society. That is one reason used by people who seek to cancel or ban controversial speakers from college campuses.
Indeed, virulent speech may even weaken the democratic exchange of ideas, by discouraging some people from participating in public discussion and debate, to avoid potential harassment and scorn.
Nonetheless, that sort of speech remains firmly under the umbrella of First Amendment defenses. Each person must decide how their own humanity and morality allows them to speak for themselves.
This article originally appeared in The Conversation.



















image of U.S. President Donald Trump is displayed on a digital billboard in Times Square in New York on April 8, 2026.
Trump is stuck between two realities. Neither serves the American people
Normally, I worry that events may overtake a column. But not so with the Iran war.
I don’t worry about running afoul of a headline or Truth Social post from the president because what is said about the situation is no longer very relevant to the reality.
On April 8, Nick Catoggio, my Dispatch colleague, dubbed an earlier stoppage with Iran “Schrödinger’s ceasefire.” This was a reference to the famous thought experiment by the physicist Erwin Schrödinger, who was trying to explain the weirdness of “superpositionality” in quantum physics. A cat in a box is both dead and alive at the same time until you open the box. Schrödinger meant to illustrate the absurdity of the idea that particles aren’t any one thing, but a “cloud of probabilities.”
The Trump administration is stuck in a word cloud of probabilities of his own making. The war is over. The war is on. The war isn’t a war. We have a deal, but we don’t have a deal, but we’re about to have a deal. We destroyed Iran’s military. No, we left it intact. We want regime change. No we don’t. We already accomplished it. We “obliterated” Iran’s nuclear program a year ago. We had to go to war in February to prevent nuclear war. The Strait of Hormuz is open, closed, or something in-between. No deal without “unconditional surrender.” Let’s make a deal!
This everything-all-at-once vibe can be disorienting, particularly since most Americans didn’t have a war with Iran on their bingo cards until the shooting had already started. President Trump didn’t prepare the country or consult with Congress beforehand because he thought it would all be a smashing success in a matter of weeks.
The miscalculation that started it all: killing Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, and much of Iran’s senior leadership, on the first day of the war. To “the great proud people of Iran, I say tonight that the hour of your freedom is at hand,” Trump announced on Feb. 28. “When we are finished, take over your government. It will be yours to take. This will be probably your only chance for generations.”
I support regime change in Iran and shed no tears for Khamenei or his goons. But when you start a war by killing the regime’s top leaders, it’s not unreasonable for the remaining ones to conclude that you really intend regime change.
Khamenei was a murderous fanatic, but he was a fairly cautious one. He liked to threaten closing the Strait of Hormuz or attacking our regional allies, but he was reluctant to actually do it, fearing it would invite a regime change war. The mullahs and IRGC goons believed, not unreasonably, that if they lost their grip on power, they’d be lynched by the Iranian people they’ve brutalized for decades.
By starting with a regime change war, Trump removed any reason for the regime not to go for broke. When you have nothing to lose — particularly when you are a millenarian religious fanatic — a Persian Alamo strategy makes a lot of sense.
So Iran closed the Strait of Hormuz and attacked its neighbors.
But it turns out this wasn’t the Alamo. In the contest of wills, Trump blinked. The Iranian regime’s tolerance for punishment proved — so far — to be greater than Trump’s and that of our gulf allies. Militarily we could finish the job, but that would require ground troops and much greater economic turmoil. In a conflict Trump launched unilaterally without the prior support of Congress, NATO or the American people, Trump doesn’t have the political capital for that.
But that’s only half the problem. Trump wants the war over, but he doesn’t want to pay — militarily, economically, politically — what that would cost. So he wants to make a deal that ends it. But there is no deal available that wouldn’t come at an equally undesirable cost. Any deal that looks like what President Obama struck with the Iranians would be too embarrassing to bear. But the Iranians are convinced that they can get just such a deal, and they’re willing to drag things out as long as it takes.
The result: Trump’s in a box of his own making. He thinks he can talk his way out by simply asserting a reality that doesn’t exist. When the financial markets get nervous, he announces a breakthrough that is, at best, a possibility. When the Iranians agree to a deal that looks similar to one Obama might negotiate, Trump goes back to his threats.
It can’t go on forever. But I’m sure it’ll last until long after this column is forgotten.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.