It is remarkable how much can change in a short period. When we embarked on this special issue, we were tasked with finding a manner to articulate a place of commonality in what appeared to be a very polarized public sphere, especially in the United States. So, rather than directly taking on polarization or even echo chambers, we moved the conversation towards articulating gathering spaces – the Commons – where we can, or should be able to, come together. To a certain extent, this collection of articles contributes to that objective, but in regards to articulating a vision of the public commons today, it is an incomplete outcome. We invite the readers to reflect on how to take the conversation further, especially in regards to these following comments: 

There is a saying in Mexico that we are “so far away from God, so close to the United States.” As guest editors from Canada and Mexico, we occupy a space of “intimate distance” from the global superpower on our borders. The rumblings emanating from that center are most certainly felt on our peripheries. We will identify just two that have an immediate bearing on media literacy: first, the cultural war against “wokeness” and the concomitant institutional assault on DEI (diversity, equity and inclusion); and, second, a very particular framing of “free speech” and “censorship” that flatters certain perspectives and points of view that are not “woke.”

Representation was always a motivating factor for media literacy pioneers. Arguably, a critique of the on-screen representation of the female body was one of the central tasks undertaken by those who sought to demystify and deconstruct media texts (Jean Kilbourne’s 1979 “Killing us Softly” documentary marked one of those jumping off points). Laura Mulvey’s “male gaze” concretized the notion that television and movies reproduced a version of the world where cis-gendered White men were dominant and most relevant. The Bechdel test, a remarkably simple tool that sets the bar low for measuring the role of women and girls in media narratives, would likely be dismissed as terribly “woke.” Among many others, bell hooks argued for the pedagogical potential of media texts as opening space for experiencing difference and talking about race. Relative to the concomitant campaign against LGBTQ+ narratives and identities, this represents a shrinking space for undertaking an examination of gendered and racialized representation in media.

If findings such as these are easily dismissed as “woke,” the space for media literacy shrinks considerably. If the new media literacy diet depends on an expanded focus on “disinformation,” which is clearly an area worthy of extensive exploration, then the question becomes, whose information counts? The owners of the largest social media fora have coalesced around the same movement which is intent on eliminating any remnants of wokeness. X/Twitter removed its “fact-checking” guardrails over a year ago; Meta did so a couple of months ago.  For some, this is a victory over censorship; for others, this is a clarion call for information chaos. The idea of “censorship,” as invoked by those for whom fact checkers are a nuisance, depends on what the great philosopher Stephen Colbert calls “truthiness.” Says Colbert: “It used to be, everyone was entitled to their own opinion, but not their own facts. But that’s not the case anymore. Facts matter not at all. Perception is everything (2006).”

If we are reinventing the commons – an agora of fair-minded, respectful and horizontal dialogue – how does that square with the current moment? What are the prospects for media literacy in an environment that is not only polarized, but where jobs, careers and reputations are on the line for speaking truth to power? This issue includes a series of articles that take us in numerous directions relevant to public discourse and fair-minded dialogue. It feels, however, as if the carpet was snatched from below our feet between the time these pieces were submitted and published. The stakes have changed, and the goal posts have moved. About truthiness, Colbert continues on to say: “’What I say is right, and [nothing] anyone else says could possibly be true’.” This feels like an adequate call out to the new arbiters of permissible speech but it undermines the promotion of critical thinking as an answer to the problems at hand. Whose version of critical thinking will survive the institutional purge of DEI? 

Like Winston Smith, George Orwell’s protagonist of 1984, who spent his days rewriting history at the Ministry of Truth, a wholesale revision for how to comprehend the current and historical social fabric of the U.S. is being undertaken at the highest levels. Media literacy is at a moment akin to the eye of the storm. We need to “hold space” for difference, to align with those who are disenfranchised from power, and to preserve the commons as a space for critical thinking, common sense and an openness to other perspectives, no matter how uncomfortable they might make us. 

Those who use the concept of “woke” are reinventing censorship as a disavowal to engage in conversation and are reducing debate to the level of a toddler’s tantrum. And here is the rub: media literacy will likely be called into question as “woke.” Is it “woke” to discuss what we see, hear and experience in the media? Is evidence-based thinking “woke”? The light in the public Commons dims when the fog of censorship rolls in.