
Brandon Allen
June 18, 2026 · Newsletter
Restoring Fair Elections and a Fair Information System

American democracy has always depended on a straightforward idea: voters decide who represents them. Not corporations. Not wealthy donors. Not outside groups operating in the shadows of campaign finance law. But over the last few decades, that balance has shifted in ways most people can feel but not always clearly name, and it comes down to two forces working at the same time; money in politics and information in politics.
The first major turning point came in 2010 with the Supreme Court’s decision in Citizens United v. FEC. That ruling allowed corporations, unions, and outside organizations to spend unlimited amounts of money on political advocacy, so long as they did not coordinate directly with candidates. In legal terms, it was framed as a First Amendment issue. In practical terms, it changed the scale of American elections.
Since that decision, outside spending has grown from hundreds of millions of dollars in a cycle to more than $2 billion in recent federal elections. Much of that money flows through Super PACs and nonprofit groups that are not required to fully disclose their donors. For voters, that creates a simple but serious problem: it is often impossible to know who is actually paying for the messages designed to influence their vote.
A campaign ad might look local. A mailer might sound grassroots. A digital video might feel organic. But behind it, the funding often traces back to a very small number of donors capable of shaping entire election cycles. And while candidates still talk about grassroots support, the structure underneath those campaigns has changed. The presence of unlimited outside spending doesn’t need to corrupt the system in an obvious way to alter it; it only needs to shift incentives.
When a small number of donors or outside groups can dramatically influence the environment around a race, campaigns naturally begin to adapt. Attention shifts upward toward funding networks and national organizations that can provide financial support or opposition spending. That shift doesn’t erase the importance of voters, but it does change the weight of competing influences. Over time, it becomes harder to tell where voter-driven politics ends and donor-driven politics begins.
At the same time, another major shift has taken place in how people receive political information at all.
For much of the twentieth century, broadcast television and radio operated under what was known as the Fairness Doctrine. This Federal Communications Commission policy required stations using public airwaves to present controversial public issues in a way that included multiple perspectives. It did not require equal time or perfect balance, but it did require a basic obligation to ensure that audiences were not receiving an entirely one-sided presentation of major public issues.
That rule was eliminated in 1987. And what replaced it was not a neutral information marketplace, but a media environment driven increasingly by competition for attention.
Over time, talk radio, cable news, and eventually digital platforms evolved into highly segmented spaces where audiences are often exposed primarily to viewpoints that reinforce what they already believe. The business model shifted toward engagement, and engagement is driven by emotion—especially frustration, anger, and urgency. As a result, political media became less about shared civic understanding and more about reinforcing identity and dividing attention into separate lanes.
In many rural and small-town communities across northeast Indiana, this shift has had an even more direct impact. Broadcast television and radio remain primary news sources for many households, especially where broadband access is limited or where local journalism has declined. In those places, a small number of stations or networks often serve as the main filter for political information. And when those outlets are owned by large national corporations or syndicate the same content across multiple markets, the result is not a broad marketplace of ideas; it is a narrow set of repeating narratives.
When you combine these two forces, unlimited political spending and increasingly segmented media, you get a system that reinforces itself. Money floods the information space with targeted messaging. Media fragmentation reduces the likelihood that those messages are consistently challenged in the same place at the same time. Voters are left navigating a landscape where they are heavily targeted, but not always fully informed, and where competing perspectives often do not appear side by side in a way that allows for direct comparison.
This is not primarily a story about left or right. It is a story about structure. About whether the system itself still produces shared understanding, or whether it produces separate realities depending on where you live, what you watch, and who has the resources to speak the loudest.
The reforms in this series are built around that question. Not how to silence voices, but how to ensure no single voice, whether corporate, political, or media-based, can dominate the conversation without transparency or accountability.
In the next installment, we will turn to campaign finance reform directly: what can be changed through legislation, what requires constitutional amendment, and what steps can be taken immediately to restore transparency and balance in the system as it exists today.