First Amendment cases are complicated. Defamation—slander and libel—aren't simple, and usually the smart move is to wait before weighing in until all the evidence is actually presented in court.
But I'm commenting now because when journalists start facing criminal charges—not civil lawsuits, but arrest and potential jail time—for what appears to be normal newsgathering activity, we can't afford to wait. The chilling effect on journalism happens immediately. And when it begins to look like a pattern of federal action against multiple journalists in a short time frame, questions about selective enforcement and proportionality need to be asked right away, even before all the evidence is in.
First, let's be clear about what we're talking about. There's a fundamental difference between civil liability, like defamation lawsuits, and criminal liability, which can result in arrest, prosecution, and incarceration. Most journalists and news organizations, when they face legal trouble, face the former. What's notable here is that multiple journalists are now dealing with the latter.
The Cases
On January 14, 2026, FBI agents executed a search warrant at the home of Washington Post reporter Hannah Natanson, seizing her phone, laptops, and other devices as part of a classified-materials and national-defense-information investigation involving a government contractor. Natanson has not been charged with any crime. A U.S. magistrate judge has temporarily barred the government from reviewing the seized materials while legal challenges are pending. Press-freedom organizations have described the search as an exceptionally rare and aggressive step that raises serious First Amendment concerns.
On January 29-30, 2026, former CNN anchor Don Lemon and Minnesota journalist Georgia Fort were arrested after covering a January 18 protest that disrupted a worship service at Cities Church in St. Paul. Federal prosecutors charged them under 18 U.S.C. §241 (Conspiracy Against Rights) and 18 U.S.C. §248 (the FACE Act), which protects both reproductive health facilities and places of religious worship. Prior to the arrests, a federal magistrate judge declined to authorize an arrest warrant, citing an insufficient showing of probable cause. Prosecutors then sought and obtained a grand jury indictment of nine defendants. Video from the scene shows Lemon stating, "We're not part of the activists—we're just reporting on them."
These federal actions against journalists happened within two weeks of each other.
Meanwhile, here in Massachusetts, blogger Aidan Kearney, known as "Turtleboy," has faced multiple criminal charges connected to his coverage of the Karen Read murder case. Prosecutors have alleged witness intimidation, picketing of witnesses, and related conduct, arguing that he engaged in repeated behavior directed at specific individuals with the intent to influence testimony. At least one witness-intimidation case has since been dropped, while other charges remain pending. Kearney and his defense team argue his conduct was protected by the First Amendment and constituted legitimate journalism.
Why These Cases Matter
When a journalist faces criminal exposure, a few questions matter immediately: Was the journalist acting professionally and ethically? Was the journalist causing direct harm? Is legal action being used to punish or chill reporting?
Those questions matter here.
Many people have asked me to comment on Kearney's case. If I were Aidan's editor, and he worked for me, I wouldn't have approved the actions he has been criminally charged for, whether they were legal or not. I would have pushed for different reporting approaches to reach the same goals, for both ethical and legal reasons. Look at what prosecutors allege: repeated conduct, directed at specific individuals, intended to influence testimony. That's a serious allegation governed by a specific legal standard. It's fundamentally different from a journalist showing up to document a protest or knock on a public official's door.
Professional journalism requires ethical restraint and due diligence.
You don't simply publish information forwarded by a defense attorney before opening statements have even begun. The information would need to be vetted, investigated. A journalist would seek comment from the other side. You also have to ask whether something is actually newsworthy—recognizing that "newsworthy" will mean different things to different outlets. Without that process, you're not doing journalism. You're doing PR, propaganda, tabloid work or chasing views. That may be someone's lane, but it isn't every newsroom's.
Even advocacy journalism doesn't eliminate due diligence. You still verify. You still seek comment. You still give people an opportunity to respond. You consider the harm versus benefit of your work. Balance and fairness aren't about false equivalence—they're about credibility.
In routine investigative journalism, reporters approach people in public spaces all the time—after phone calls, emails, and messages have gone unanswered. But when they do, it's deliberate, planned, and informed by legal and ethical judgment. Knocking on someone's door is usually not harassment or trespassing—especially if you leave when asked. Approaching someone on a public street is not harassment unless it crosses into intimidation or repeated, threatening conduct. That's the line between journalism and harassment.
Kearney may ultimately be the victim of targeted enforcement, and the outcome may redefine what type of behavior is or isn't acceptable from journalists. The case is making its way through the legal system and he is getting his constitutional right to due process. What can be examined now is whether charges match conduct and whether the response is proportionate.
The Federal Pattern
Don Lemon's case perfectly illustrates what independent journalists are up against. If he were still at CNN, network lawyers and standards editors would have either prohibited entering that church or clearly authorized it. And if he were arrested, CNN's legal department would already be fighting on his behalf. As far as anyone knows, he's now navigating this on his own.
I've spent years advising independent journalists about risk—particularly the importance of legal review and insurance. Even at Bay Windows and South End News, we receive threatening legal letters from both institutions and private individuals. Legal pressure is a constant in journalism. But journalists still have to obey the law, and newsrooms need systems in place to make sound decisions under pressure.
Context matters. Receiving a tip from an activist that a protest is planned at a church is not a conspiracy—it's routine newsgathering. Receiving a tip that someone plans to commit violence is different; journalists may have ethical—and sometimes legal—obligations to act. Churches are private property, and there are specific laws protecting religious worship.
But here's what makes the Lemon, Fort, and Natanson cases different from Kearney's: the appearance of a pattern of federal action directed at journalists in a very short timeframe. That raises legitimate First Amendment concerns about selective enforcement and proportionality.
If journalists can't operate within established newsgathering methods—talking to sources, following leads, covering protests, public disruptions, or controversial events—without fearing that simply showing up or taking a call could lead to criminal charges, that's a problem for the public, not just the press.
What's at Stake
First Amendment law is complex for a reason. The United States has some of the broadest free-speech and press protections in the world. Other democracies have chosen different balances.
Free speech and press rights aren't absolute. The line between journalism, activism, and criminal conduct requires careful judicial scrutiny. That's what courts are for.
But there's a broader issue here, especially for Massachusetts journalism: the persistent lack of transparency in government. Closed-door meetings. Expensive, delayed, and rejected records requests. Resistance to accountability. Transparency doesn't happen because journalists demand it, or because we keep reporting about it. It will only happen when you, the public, demand it.
These questions aren't partisan. They're foundational. And when enforcement begins to look selective or wildly disproportionate, we have an obligation to ask hard questions—even before all the evidence is in.
Sue O'Connell is the editor and co-publisher of Bay Windows and South End News, and a commentator at NBC10 Boston