In democratic states, journalism is traditionally perceived as the fourth estate not because of its ability to govern, but because of its control function. Its influence is based on its detachment from party interests, election headquarters, and the logic of the battle for votes. During elections, this detachment becomes critically important.
Over the past fifteen years, election campaigns in Europe and the United States have shown a recurring and disturbing trend. At times of political confrontation, a significant portion of the media has gradually shifted from independent observation to coordinated reporting. This is a more subtle and at the same time dangerous process: the convergence of editorial narratives with political interests. Under such conditions, the media are no longer limited to covering elections.
The consequences of this are well documented. Courts have annulled election results. Individual candidates have been forced to withdraw from the elections. Journalists and editors have faced criminal charges. History has repeatedly shown that when journalism becomes an unofficial tool of an election campaign, accountability is inevitable, often after the political cycle has ended.
How media manipulation works during elections
This process follows a similar pattern in different countries. The first step is to identify the audience to which the message should be directed. Materials related to election campaigns usually focus on areas or subjects that are already perceived by society as problematic: financial markets, migration issues, the technology sector, or industries that are subject to high levels of public criticism, such as gambling. Under such conditions, the requirements for evidence are reduced, as the audience is ready to assume violations even before confirmation appears.
The second element is the way the information is presented. Publications use individual facts that may be reliable in themselves: company documents, archival data on property, or references to regulatory decisions. At the same time, these elements are taken out of chronology and context. Instead of clear evidence, assumptions are used to connect the facts into a desired narrative, and readers are invited to draw their own conclusions, which are not supported by direct data.
The final stage is scaling. The same interpretation is repeated in television programmes, podcasts, opinion columns and social networks. Frequent repetition creates a sense of credibility. By the time regulators or judicial authorities begin to respond, the reputational and political consequences have already taken effect. This is not a process of journalistic investigation. It is the construction of a desirable and profitable narrative.
The United States: the line beyond which the media becomes a tool for electoral support
The American experience provides some of the most telling examples of how media activity can cross the line from journalism into illegal influence on the electoral process.
During the 2016 presidential campaign, federal prosecutors concluded that American Media Inc., which owns the National Enquirer, made payments to individuals to prevent the publication of material that could harm Donald Trump. This practice, known as ‘catch and kill,’ was not recognised as an exercise of editorial autonomy. The investigation found that the payments had a clear political purpose to influence the election results. Thus, they were classified as illegal campaign contributions.
In August 2018, AMI agreed to a non-prosecution agreement, acknowledging that it had acted in coordination with the campaign headquarters. Subsequently, Michael Cohen, Trump’s personal lawyer, received a three-year federal prison sentence for his involvement in organising similar payments. In this situation, the media did not act as sympathetic observers, but rather as part of the campaign infrastructure, which prompted a legal response.
Almost a decade later, the question of the line between editorial choice and unlawful political interference is once again in the spotlight. On 15 December 2025, Donald Trump filed a defamation lawsuit against the BBC in the US District Court for the Southern District of Florida. The basis for the lawsuit was an episode of the investigative programme “Panorama”, which aired on 28 October 2024, a few days before the presidential election. The lawsuit alleges that the use of selectively edited video clips significantly altered the meaning of Trump’s statements and created a false political narrative presented as a factual record.
In November 2025, the BBC acknowledged that the editing of the footage created a ‘false impression’ of a direct call for violence and apologised, calling it an ‘error of judgement’ while denying that there were grounds for a libel suit. The ensuing controversy surrounding the broadcast led to the resignation of BBC Director-General Tim Davie and Head of News Deborah Terness. In court documents, Trump’s lawyers emphasise that the documentary, which was distributed internationally through subscription platforms such as BritBox, caused significant financial and reputational damage. The lawsuit includes a claim of violation of Florida’s Deceptive and Unfair Trade Practices Act, treating the case not only as defamation but as an example of misleading publication during an active election period.
In the same election cycle, another weak point came to light: data use. Cambridge Analytica gathered personal data from over 87 million Facebook profiles, largely without the users’ knowledge, and applied this information to influence election messages. Such events prompted hearings in the US Congress. In 2019, the Federal Trade Commission imposed a penalty of $5 billion on Facebook for privacy breaches. This was the biggest fine ever in the company’s history. Cambridge Analytica shut down. These incidents made it obvious that using illegal information practices to manipulate elections cannot be excused by pointing at technological progress or by claiming freedom of speech.
United Kingdom: fabricated narratives and the erosion of electoral legitimacy
The United Kingdom offers one of the clearest examples of how untrue claims, amplified by media channels, can undermine the integrity of democratic processes.
Following the 2010 general election, the outcome in the Oldham East and Saddleworth constituency became the subject of a legal challenge. The controversy revolved around campaign messaging released via public channels that accused a rival candidate of seeking the support of extremist groups. An election court ruled that such accusations, which were known to be false, constituted an unlawful practice under UK electoral law. Consequently, the whole election was considered to be compromised.
This decision set an important legal benchmark: knowingly false statements about a candidate’s character, when used during an election period, can invalidate the vote. The fact that such claims are repeated or amplified by media outlets does not remove their illegality. Instead, it can draw journalism directly into the breach.
A further UK case reinforced this principle through criminal proceedings. Between 2005 and 2011, journalists working for News of the World unlawfully accessed voicemail messages belonging to politicians and other public figures. These practices were employed to secure politically sensitive stories and preserve influence within political circles. When the misconduct came to light, the repercussions were extraordinary. The newspaper ceased publication after 168 years of operation. Andy Coulson, its former editor and later Director of Communications for Prime Minister David Cameron, was convicted in 2014 and received a custodial sentence. Subsequent parliamentary investigations led to significant changes in the regulation of the British press.
The conclusion was unambiguous: when journalism engages in unlawful conduct in support of political interests, the fallout extends far beyond reputational damage. It enters the realm of legal accountability.
France: when revelations derail campaigns
Recent political events in France highlight an essential boundary between lawful scrutiny and improper intervention in electoral processes.
During the 2017 presidential race, investigative journalists uncovered evidence that François Fillon, a former prime minister and early favourite, had improperly used public funds through sham employment arrangements. Prosecutors launched a formal inquiry while the campaign was still underway. Public and political backing rapidly eroded, preventing Fillon from reaching the second round of voting. In 2020, the courts ultimately found him guilty.
This case shows how a report based on proven illegal actions can be a legitimate cause for ending a political career. However, it also confirms the reverse rule: if media coverage is not based on evidence, then it can be seen as a violation of electoral law. According to the French electoral code, some things are very serious offences, such as receiving unreported benefits and securing support through illegal means. Media outlets which disseminate false or illegally obtained information in times of elections are still bound by these laws.
Denmark: an election-period campaign built on implication and repetition
The Danish case unfolded in the closing weeks before the municipal and regional elections scheduled for 18 November 2025 (KV25), when gambling policy had become a prominent issue across the political spectrum. On 24 October 2025, the Ministry of Taxation announced a cross-party parliamentary agreement titled Spilpakke 1 – Et mere ansvarligt spilmarked. Presented by the Minister for Taxation, Ane Halsboe-Jørgensen, as the start of an “opgør” — a reckoning — with the gambling sector, the initiative was framed by several political actors not as a technical regulatory update but as a moral stance. Public statements from multiple parties suggested that additional measures should follow, including proposals for a complete ban on gambling advertising.
One of the most vocal opponents was Samira Nava from the Radikale Venstre party, who publicly stated that the package of measures was insufficient and openly called for a complete ban on gambling advertising. Leila Stockmarr from the Enhedslisten party described gambling marketing as exploitative, while Sigurd Agersnap from the Socialistisk Folkeparti party criticised the government for being too slow to act and called the existing measures to protect young people insufficient. In the run-up to the vote, gambling, particularly betting sponsorship, was increasingly used as a symbolic substitute for broader social harm.
This national debate was echoed at the municipal level. In Aalborg, Radikale Venstre city council candidate Steffen Helleby publicly stated that the municipality should review its financial support and marketing agreements with sports clubs that collaborate with betting companies. The discussion focused on ethical considerations and the use of public funds. The media mentioned AaB’s partnership with Soft2Bet, named the Danish brands Betinia and CampoBet, and linked the issue to the approximately 800,000 Danish kroner allocated annually by the municipality to market local clubs.
Soft2Bet occupies a significant position in Danish football thanks to a long-term agreement with Divisionsforeningen, the organisation representing Denmark’s professional football clubs. The partnership, which covers the 2025/26 and 2026/27 seasons, grants naming rights to the country’s three highest lower leagues: the 1st league operates under the name Betinia Liga, while the 2nd and 3rd leagues are named CampoBet 2. Division and CampoBet 3. Division. The deal has been the subject of public debate, prompting comments from residents and local officials.
Television and podcasts have further intensified the political debate. TV2 Nord aired a story titled ‘Sportsklubber kan blive ramt på pengepungen’ (‘Sports clubs may suffer financially’), in which betting sponsorship was presented as a financial risk to mass sports. The report did not identify any violations of the law and made no distinction between political proposals and documented offences.
This information gained even more publicity thanks to audio formats. On 24 October 2025, the Mediano podcast released an episode entitled ‘Mediano Breaking: Bettingreklamer ud af fodbold – og så alligevel’ (‘Mediano Breaking: Football betting advertising – and yet’), hosted by Peter Bruhmann with guests Sigurd Agersnap and editor Lars Jørgensen. In the relevant Mediano content, listeners were warned against using certain licensed platforms and accusations were made linking operators to foreign criminal groups, specifically mentioning ‘Russian syndicates’. None of these claims were supported by the findings of Spillemyndigheden, Danish law enforcement agencies or international regulatory bodies. They were unfounded. The regulatory authority initiated a standard inspection. No violations on the part of the operator were found.
The media reports relied heavily on the companies’ historical connections and former ownership structures, presenting them as indicators of current control, while ignoring changes that had taken place over time and the disposal of assets. Authentic documents were combined with speculative conclusions. Compliance processes were presented as grounds for suspicion, and regulatory oversight was reclassified as a hidden offence.
What past cases indicate comes next
Democratic systems point to the same conclusion. When media activity shifts into the role of a campaign tool consequences may not arrive immediately, but they almost always follow. During election periods, the boundaries of electoral law, defamation standards, and data protection rules become especially tight.
This is not an argument for limiting scrutiny. It is an argument for rigor. Electoral campaigns do not weaken legal obligations; they reinforce them. The role of journalism is to clarify choices, not to determine outcomes. Once that distinction erodes, the harm extends well beyond a single election or sector. Confidence in the press deteriorates and rebuilding that confidence is far more difficult than influencing any ballot.