Reclaiming the Narrative: How Philanthropy Must Lead in Media Accountability and Power

Old Narratives

It must be remembered that the white group of laborers, while they received low wage, were compensated in part by a sort of public and psychological wage. They were given public deference and titles of courtesy because they were white. They were admitted freely with all classes of white people to public functions, public parks, and the best schools. The police were drawn from their ranks, and the courts, dependent upon their votes, treated them with such leniency as to encourage lawlessness. … The newspapers specialized on news that flattered [them] and almost utterly ignored the Negro except in crime and ridicule.

Examining many parts of our country today, this quote from W. E. B. Du Bois, Black Reconstruction in America 1860-1880 might feel like a live reporting from our current political landscape. But the truth is–notwithstanding the immediately noticeable similarities in divisive strategy across race and class–we are just ten years shy of a full century since Du Bois wrote these words. And still, his warning of the weaponizing of media and public institutions to uphold white supremacy and distort reality feels eerily prescient in what many are experiencing as the violently oscillating forces of America’s Third Reconstruction. His analysis remains chillingly relevant in a time when media has grown into the primary weapon for reinforcing racial hierarchies, manipulate public opinion, and suppress movements for justice.

Over the past few weeks, philanthropy and philanthropic media have been both staggering and rebounding, making sense of how and where to best intervene as the new administration pursues policies intended to harm the nonprofits and communities we serve. As we experience shock and confusion alongside the rest of the nation, new challenges continue to unfold. In under 90 days, the President has ordered a comprehensive freeze on federal funding—a decision that, if implemented, is expected to decimate critical safety net protections, public health research, and climate justice initiatives, as well as nonprofit-efforts to address local needs related to education, health care, housing, and beyond. Additionally, executive orders have been enacted to end DEI programs across federal departments, challenging, for example, hardwon accessibility protections for disabled communities and workforce opportunities for under-represented groups. These simultaneous unravelings underscore the pressing need for manifold and strategic interventions. And, they remind us of another section from Du Bois that gives us necessary pause.

The espousal of the doctrine of Negro inferiority by the South was primarily because of economic motives and the inter-connected political urge necessary to support slave industry; but to the watching world it sounded like the carefully thought out result of experience and reason; and because of this it was singularly disastrous for modern civilization science and religion, in art and government, as well as in industry. The South could say that the Negro, even when brought into modern civilization, could not be civilized, and that, therefore, he and the other colored peoples of the world were so far inferior to the whites that the white world had a right to rule mankind for their own selfish interests.

While our current context finds us up against our own “espousal” of “doctrine” equally “carefully thought out,” but this time spread across a breadth of historically marginalized identities, we have the privilege of history’s teachings on our side. We already know that “The U.S. media system has been a chief architect of our nation’s anti-Black narrative since 1619.” We know that from Reconstruction to the Civil Rights Movement to the Movement for Black Lives; across LGBTQ+ rights, disability justice, immigrant and workers’ rights, policing, even food and climate justice, we have seen political attacks increase in direct response to our escalated wins across the board. 

We know – even while experiencing understandable despair – our grantee partners are forging the path to liberation for all. And still, we must utilize all of our tools to the best of our ability.

As “The South could say that the Negro … could not be civilized, and that … the white world had a right to rule mankind for their own selfish interests,” today’s Fascists can attempt to usurp – not just our government, but our perspectives – by saying any number of things, through any number of platforms, in an attempt to keep us stunned and powerless.

We must remember. We, too, shift perspectives, especially by comprehensively supporting those who say precisely and exactly what must be said to embolden us all toward critical, coordinated interventions.

Necessary Change

As the Right continues to weaponize, own and consolidate media to dismantle social and racial justice efforts and progress, philanthropy must move beyond reactive crisis response and into proactive strategy.

For too long, philanthropy has been caught in a cycle of reaction—responding to crises as they arise, countering attacks on racial and social justice, and playing defense against the Right’s calculated, proactive, and incredibly long term use of media and disinformation. But what if we flipped the script? What if, instead of being reactive, philanthropy leveraged its collective power to shape the media landscape proactively? What if social justice funders, organizations, and intermediaries worked in greater partnership—not only to invest in truth-telling, and to hold the press accountable to higher standards of integrity?

We are seeing, in real time, the consequences of leaving narrative power unchecked. From attacks on diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives to the spread of disinformation aimed at dismantling hard-won civil rights, and halting fair and just civic participation, media is being wielded as a weapon. If philanthropy wants to advance justice, it must also take seriously the role of media in shaping public opinion, policy, and power.

“Philanthropy has the opportunity—and responsibility—to fuel a media ecosystem that tells the truth about our histories, our communities, and our possible futures,” says Alicia Bell, Director of Borealis Philanthropy’s Racial Equity in Journalism Fund. “Lucas Grindley, at Next City, always says ‘If you want new narratives, you need new narrators.’ And that requires philanthropy to move beyond transactional giving and into strategic, coordinated action, transforming a historically inequitable media ecosystem.”

This is where funders—especially intermediaries—have a critical role to play. Partnerships with organizations like Borealis Philanthropy have the unique potential to bridge philanthropy’s best intentions with impactful movement work, ensuring that resources flow toward community-rooted journalists and media organizations committed to delivering critical information, accurately reflecting the ever-expanding realities of the world we live in, and maintaining a commitment to equity and justice. Borealis’ Racial Equity in Journalism (REJ) Fund is a prime example of how philanthropy can directly support Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC)-led media outlets that counter harmful narratives and amplify underrepresented voices. And, we need more than funding. We need a culture shift.

So what will it take to get us there?

First, philanthropy must shift from a mindset of charity to one of strategic and coordinated investment in power-building. Media is not just a communications tool; it is a battleground for narrative impact. Social justice funders must see media infrastructure as essential to movement infrastructure, essential to our daily fight for greater freedoms and democracy; essential to supporting journalists, media makers, and organizers who are shaping public discourse and policy outcomes.

Second, funders must be willing to act in greater partnership—with each other and with movement leaders and journalists—to align strategies and maximize impact. The Right has long understood the power of coordinated action, using media networks to reinforce harmful narratives, stereotypes, and disinformation at scale. Philanthropy must learn from this, strengthening coalitions and infrastructures such as intermediaries that proactively define and drive public narratives rather than constantly reacting to harmful ones.

Third, philanthropy must hold the press accountable. While funding independent journalism is critical, it is not enough. Funders and intermediaries must actively push for ethical reporting practices, demand greater diversity in newsrooms, and challenge media institutions that perpetuate harmful stereotypes or misinformation. This means leveraging philanthropic influence not just to support more honest, context-filled narratives, but to ensure mainstream media upholds standards of integrity and justice. We’ve seen this is action as recent as last week as a funding community.

“BIPOC-led media outlets have long been doing the work to tell nuanced, community-centered stories that mainstream media either overlooks or distorts,” says Alicia Bell. “Philanthropy must ensure that these journalists and newsrooms are resourced not only to survive but to thrive.” And, where we have capacity, we must engage in increasingly expansive ways with traditional outlets, using our partnership and influence to call them into greater care and accountability with representations of our experience as a sector, as well as the life-sustaining work of the grantees with whom we partner.

Ultimately, the question is not whether philanthropy will engage in the fight for narrative power—it’s whether we will rise to action with the urgency and coordination this moment demands. The stakes are too high for business as usual. It’s time to move beyond reaction, into strategic, proactive measures that ensure the stories shaping our world reflect equity, truth, and justice.