The recent decision to defund PBS and NPR has a lot of people up in arms. Some call it an attack on education. Others say it’s the end of quality broadcasting as we know it. Me? I’ve quietly been in favor of this move for years. And before you grab your pitchforks, hear me out.

On the surface, the concept of public broadcasting is beautiful. PBS and NPR were created to give Americans programming that wasn’t just fluff or entertainment for entertainment’s sake. They weren’t driven by advertisers. They were supposed to be the antidote to commercial media, a safe space for education, culture, and in-depth reporting.

And for a while, they were exactly that.

A Kid, a Black-and-White TV, and Channel 11

I grew up in New Hampshire. Back then, I didn’t have cable in my bedroom. I had a small black-and-white television with rabbit ears, the kind you had to twist and wiggle until you got a picture that didn’t look like snow.

One of the clearest stations I could pull in was PBS, Channel 11 out of Durham.

That channel raised me. Sesame Street, Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, The Electric Company. Those weren’t just shows. They were a lifeline. They taught me letters, numbers, empathy, and maybe most importantly, what the world outside my little corner of New Hampshire looked like.

I’ll never forget Gordon from Sesame Street. He was just Gordon. Not “the Black guy.” Not “different.” Just Gordon. As a kid in a state with very little diversity, I didn’t even process that his race was supposed to matter. He was simply part of my world, and I liked him.

And then there was Mr. Rogers. I vividly remember the episode where he sat down with Officer Clemmons, a Black police officer, and they washed their feet together in a kiddie pool on a hot day. At the time, I didn’t realize that moment was historic. I didn’t know it was breaking barriers in a country still reeling from segregation. To me, it wasn’t a big political statement. It was just cool that they were sharing the pool because their feet were hot. That’s the genius of PBS in its heyday. It normalized kindness and equality so naturally that you didn’t even realize you were being taught.

The Magic of Sesame Street (and the Lessons We Missed)

Sesame Street had its own subtle brilliance. Cookie Monster was never meant to be a nutritionist. He was about cookies. That was the joke. But here’s the brilliance: Cookie was teaching us not to be gluttons. He loved cookies more than anything, but the lesson was that maybe too much of a good thing isn’t always the best idea.

And Oscar the Grouch? Let’s be honest. Oscar was kind of a prick. But that was the point. He was showing us why being an asshole doesn’t make life better. You didn’t want to live your life in a trash can, yelling at everyone.

These characters weren’t political statements. They were moral teachers wrapped in humor and fun. They showed us diversity, kindness, and self-control without ever making it feel like a lecture.

And let’s not forget the pinball number song. If you know, you know.

The Shift That Lost Me

Somewhere along the way, public broadcasting changed.

Instead of sticking to timeless lessons about kindness, curiosity, and understanding, PBS started trying to be “relevant.” And in the process, they started shoving adult ideologies into children’s programming.

Oscar got a recycling bin. Cookie Monster started worrying about vegetables. And suddenly, Sesame Street was talking about topics that five-year-olds have no business processing.

And NPR? I spent 30 years in broadcasting. I know bias when I hear it. NPR is dripping with it. Their news coverage isn’t just reporting facts. It’s laced with a worldview. Whether you agree with that worldview or not, it doesn’t belong in a taxpayer-funded news outlet.

Why Defunding Was Inevitable

Here’s why I think this was bound to happen: The Streaming Revolution!

Back in the 70s, PBS and NPR were filling a gap. Today, anyone with a phone and an internet connection can access thousands of hours of free educational content. Streaming has made public broadcasting obsolete.

Fiscal Reality – The U.S. is drowning in debt. Why should my tax dollars go toward programming that I don’t agree with or that millions of Americans don’t watch anymore?

Bias and Ideology – Public broadcasting has picked a side. Once you stop serving the whole country and start serving only certain audiences, you can’t expect everyone to keep footing the bill.

Constitutional Questions – Groups like the Cato Institute have long argued that Congress has no constitutional basis for funding national media. And honestly, they’ve got a point.

Private Funding Exists – If PBS and NPR’s content is truly valuable, let them thrive on private donations and sponsorships. And before you say, “That would compromise their independence,” remember that government funding is no less compromising.

My Perspective as a Broadcaster

I’ve worked in radio for decades. I’ve seen what good programming can do, and I’ve also seen what happens when programming becomes about ideology instead of connection.

In commercial radio, programming has to work for advertisers. Some business owners don’t get that. They’ll say, “I don’t want to advertise on that station because I don’t like the music.” That’s a bad move. Advertising isn’t about you. It’s about reaching people who don’t already know you.

And that’s where PBS and NPR lost their way. They stopped reaching people outside the bubble. They started catering to a niche, and in doing so, they alienated the broader public that was footing the bill.

The Hard Truth

As much as I loved PBS growing up, as much as I owe to shows like Sesame Street and moments like Mr. Rogers cooling his feet with Officer Clemmons, I can’t support the way it’s evolved.

Cookie Monster didn’t need sprouts. He needed to keep teaching kids not to be gluttons.

Oscar didn’t need to recycle. He needed to keep showing kids why it sucks to be an asshole.

And Big Bird? He didn’t need to explain gender identity to preschoolers.

Those aren’t the lessons kids need. Those are adult conversations being shoved into the sandbox.

So yes, I’m okay with the defunding of PBS and NPR. Not because I don’t value what they once were, but because what they are now isn’t worth my tax dollars.

If the programming is truly valuable, it will survive. And if it doesn’t, maybe it wasn’t as essential as we thought.

Goodbye, Cookie Monster. Thanks for the memories. And thank you, Mr. Rogers, for showing me a moment of humanity so simple and pure that I didn’t even realize it was historic until decades later. That’s the kind of teaching we’ve lost.