Edward Herman and Noam Chomsky’s book “Manufacturing Consent” makes the case that the media in capitalist democracies isn’t an impartial source of information. Rather, it functions as a system of propaganda that gently sways public opinion to the advantage of political and economic elites. Democratic propaganda operates covertly through institutional processes, in contrast to overt authoritarian propaganda.
According to the thesis, media ownership, advertising, sourcing methods, flak (political pushback), and prevailing ideological frames are the five filters that influence news content. These filters work together to decide which stories are highlighted, which are disregarded, and how problems are presented. The frightening thing is that propaganda arises organically from the media system’s structure and doesn’t need conspiracies.
The news landscape of today is a wonderful example of this. Groups with political agendas own major media sources. Revenue is still generated by advertising, which subtly affects coverage. Because journalists rely so heavily on official sources—politicians, businesses, and law enforcement—their viewpoints are automatically given preference. Additionally, social media has given rise to new types of “flak,” in which organised groups can target journalists or exert pressure on platforms to eliminate particular points of view.
What I find striking is how relevant the theory is in the age of digital media. With algorithms controlling visibility and engagement, consent is manufactured through personalised feeds. People rarely see the “same” news anymore. Instead, we see content optimised for emotional reaction, not informed debate. This makes it even easier for political narratives to spread unchecked.
There are numerous examples, such as the algorithmic amplification of sensational material, selective outrage cycles on Twitter, and political influencers who shape narratives more quickly than journalists can react. Through their design decisions, even platforms that purport to be impartial ultimately reinforce particular beliefs.
“Manufacturing Consent” also contributes to the explanation of why some international crises are heavily covered while others go unnoticed. It draws attention to the unequal distribution of media attention, which is mapped onto current ideological frameworks, economic alliances, and geopolitical objectives.
Nevertheless, I don’t believe that the media is totally under control. Resistance movements, alternative news sources, and citizen journalism have all benefited from social media. However, this does not address the larger problem: the flow of information is shaped by authority, and ordinary people seldom recognise how much of their worldview has been predetermined.
“Manufacturing Consent” is valuable, in my opinion, since it teaches us to view all media with a healthy dose of scepticism. Awareness, not cynicism. News is never simply “what happened.” It is what organisations have selected, sifted, and presented as valuable information.
Thinking about Manufacturing Consent also makes me reevaluate how I consume media. Am I promoting an editorial choice influenced by the five filters when I “share” a news article? Do I contribute to reward systems that prioritise outrage over nuance when I click on sensational content? Even while algorithms lure us towards speed and emotion, there is a tiny ethical practice here: diversify sources, be wary of one-story headlines, and spend time in context.
