What Happens When Public Funding Disappears? A Test for Public Radio—and Its Supporters

Last week marked 12 weeks of posting every weekday on my website—a challenge I took on to turn what I’m reading and thinking about into something shareable and to build up my writing muscles. It’s been the highlight of my summer, and I’m grateful you’ve come along for the ride. As the school year ramps up, I’ll shift to posting 2–3 times a week. I hope you’ll keep reading, commenting, and sharing—your engagement makes this worthwhile. Also don’t forget I write on ArtsJournal on my blog Row X and post regularly on LinkedIn.

Now, onto something that’s been weighing on me this week.

Congress just reversed its commitment to provide $1.1 billion to fund the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, which supports PBS and NPR stations across the country. Stations had seen the writing on the wall and had already been ramping up fundraising. When the cut was made official, they went into overdrive—and the results have been stunning.

The New York Times reports that funding has “surged” [gift article]. In Seattle, KUOW raised $1.4 million in a single day, including a $700,000 challenge gift—well beyond the $1 million in annual federal funding they’d lost. WUNC in Chapel Hill, NC used to receive $800,000 in federal support. They just raised $1.3 million in a fund drive.

According to the Contributor Development Partnership, which analyzes public media fundraising, $20 million has been raised in the past few months from 120,000 new donors. Appeals sent right after the funding loss performed three times better than typical year-end drives (see NY Times article linked above).

Which brings me to a question that’s uncomfortable but necessary:

Is this a case of “crowding out” in action?

In economics, crowding out happens when public funding displaces private giving—people give less because they assume government support is covering it. The flip side is crowding in: public funding attracts private dollars by signaling credibility and shared value. (That “$1 in public support brings $17 in private funding” stat? That’s a crowding-in claim.)

So what do we make of these stations raising more than their lost federal funding—seemingly overnight?

Was that money always available but untapped?

If I were an opponent of public funding (which I am not), I’d see this as proof that the government doesn’t need to be in the picture. “If people want this service, let them pay for it,” they’d say. And the lightning-speed success of these campaigns, unfortunately, makes that case look compelling.

But it’s not the full story.

What I’m Watching

#1: These are high-performing outliers.

KUOW and WUNC have strong donor bases and name recognition. There are more than 1,000 public radio stations across the U.S., and most don’t have that kind of reach. Even Minnesota Public Radio, a pillar of the public media system, is cutting staff. For small, rural, and startup stations, federal funding is not just helpful—it’s existential. It often makes up a much higher percentage of their total revenue.

When critics say, “Just raise more money from donors!” it’s a clear tell they don’t understand how cultural funding actually works—especially outside of major cities. Arts, culture, media and community organizations for small communities without much of a funding base of their own, or small organizations that are just getting started and need support from sources they can access without much of a track record or widespread as they’re growing. That often comes from public sources, often local funding like city or county funds. Sometimes there are private foundations that take a shine to that kind of project, but not often.

#2: One-time funding isn’t the same as sustainable support.

For decades, public funding was predictable. Recurring. Durable. The kind of thing you can plan around.

In contrast, most of these fundraising successes came from urgent appeals, often bolstered by one-time challenge grants from major donors. That’s hard to replicate.

The Contributor Development Partnership reports that 51% of these new donors signed on as sustainers (monthly givers). That’s promising—but still fragile. We don’t know if they’ll stick around or if donor fatigue will set in.

So… is it crowding out?

Probably not in the textbook sense. Some stations have essentially bought themselves one more year of flat budgets. Others are facing real cuts. And stations in rural and remote areas are most at risk of shutting down—unless someone powerful decides they’re worth a special carve-out (something we’ve seen before).

What I hope happens next

First, I hope public radio stations evolve. This is their chance to go even deeper with their communities, to understand what matters to people right now, and to spark new support from those who’ve never felt included before or who believe public media to be partisan.

Second, I hope public media advocates update their message. They need to be able to answer a hard but fair question:

If private donors can step in and replace public funding, why should taxpayers keep footing the bill?

That question is especially urgent for stations like KUOW and WUNC that have now proven, at least in the short term, that they can operate without government support.

As I’ve complained elsewhere, the arts field squandered its pandemic crisis—failing to come out stronger, smarter, or more aligned with the public. I hope public media doesn’t follow that example.

This could be a turning point. Let’s hope they use it.