This week, Meta announced that it would be ending relationships with its vast global network of fact-checking partners – organizations like Factcheck.org, Politifact, and the Associated Press that have been flagging falsehoods on the platform since 2017. In making the announcement, CEO Mark Zuckerberg claimed these partners were making “mistakes” and engaging in “censorship” and that it was time to “restore free expression” across Meta properties.
Platforms, journalists, civil society organizations and regular folks have long relied on fact-checkers to debunk the falsehoods polluting our information ecosystem. These journalists are trained to research claims and report the facts in accordance with standards set by the International Fact-Checking Network (IFCN) and its European counterpart, the European Fact-Checking Standards Network (EFCSN). All of Meta’s fact-checking partners were IFCN-approved; none took down content themselves.
So what went awry with what’s likely the world’s most robust fact-checking operation? Let’s examine Zuckerberg’s claims.
As with any system, mistakes – misguided shadow bans, for example – are inevitable by humans and Meta’s automated systems alike. Neither is perfect, and each has biases; the goal in fact-checking is to mitigate those biases as much as possible in researching content, with the help of training and proven approaches that are the purview of IFCN and EFCSN. If you want to verify something, trained fact-checkers are the best we’ve got.
Claims that conservative voices are being censored, meanwhile, have been hammering the platforms for years, especially after then-candidate Donald Trump was banned from Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram after the January 6, 2021 attack on the U.S. Capitol. You’ll recall that Zuckerberg called the risks associated with Trump’s posts too great, writing, "The current context is now fundamentally different, involving use of our platform to incite violent insurrection against a democratically elected government." YouTube removed similar content at the time.
Politics were a factor when Meta’s content moderation program was established. Then-Facebook staffed it, hired external fact-checkers and set up its Oversight Board after the 2016 election, when it was revealed the platform was part of a Russian propaganda scheme to influence the race and a key vector in spreading misinformation about both candidates. An excellent read for context is the January 7 issue of Platformer, which also quotes Meta employees’ concerns, particularly about weakening restrictions on hate speech and shifting the reporting burden to users.
Content moderation is complicated, and platforms have learned lessons from the bans, yet the hand-wringing about censorship continues. It comes up in the workshops I lead and in conversations with conservative friends, who cite Zuckerberg’s testimonies or the debunked but still influential “Twitter Files” (see this Factcheck.org piece!)
I respond by saying that claims of censorship are convenient as they’re almost impossible to refute. They’ve been used to attack mainstream media, higher education, government agencies, and officials and even to erode our trust in one another. Rebuttal is weak or absent because no person or entity is 100 percent neutral, and there’s nothing like an accusation of discrimination to trigger a righteous response and deepen our divides. If you’re looking to dig dirt or scapegoat, censorship claims are gifts that keep on giving.
What matters is that Meta’s announcement mirrors Elon Musk’s blatant partisanship during the presidential campaign; it mentioned partnering with the Trump administration even as Zuckerberg claimed fealty to the First Amendment, which protects our speech from government involvement. It’s no coincidence that it came just after the four-year anniversary of the Capitol attack and vote certification or that the news broke on Fox and Friends.
Meta’s shift to a Community Notes-style function for fact-checking matters, too. If you sign up as a Community Notes contributor on X, as I have, you’ll see prompts on posts that are simply people’s opinions, not content that needs to be verified, thus morphing fact-checking into a crowd-sourced debate. To make the loss of resources worse, Zuckerberg didn’t just fire the fact-checkers (only the U.S.-based organizations, by the way). He discredited them – at a time when people were desperate for their help. When I reference the fact-checking outlets in my presentations, people scribble notes or take photos every time.
The clear partisan collusion among three of the most powerful individuals in the world – Zuckerberg, Musk, and Trump – is the epitome of bias. It eclipses any nudging about COVID misinformation by the outgoing administration. We see Musk’s political and ideological commentary all over X, aided by the algorithm he controls. Zuckerberg’s portfolio, used by the majority of the world, is at risk of being clogged with false and harmful narratives. Algorithmic bias toward right-leaning content seems likely – a problem since studies show more low-quality information is shared by the right at present. All three leaders have made a practice of attacking or downranking quality information sources. You can’t advocate for freedom of expression and against standards-based journalism; the First Amendment protects both.
We were brought up on the notion that checks and balances are good. Yet, now we have a U.S.-based trio that basically owns, literally and figuratively, the global communications infrastructure and, with their partners, will dominate the information ecosystem for generations to come – with one less system of checks and without the balance of nonpartisan media leadership. Simply canceling your Meta or X accounts won’t help the people who rely on Facebook groups for support, the organizations that do business there, or the municipalities that use them for rapid-response communication.
I’d like to celebrate a positive change in the announcement – reintroducing “civic content” – but am distracted by feeling like we’re headed toward a propaganda-producing oligarchy, like Russia has. Whether we reject or cheer this trio and their politics, we must ask – is that really the best thing for America and the world?
Deanna Troust is the founder and president of Truth in Common, a nonpartisan nonprofit that works to restore fact-based decision-making and respectful discourse through community-based workshops, professional development, and advisory services for mission-driving organizations. Learn more at truthincommon.org.




















A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
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Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.