In an unprecedented legal and cultural clash, Donald Trump’s lawsuit against ABC News and its star anchor George Stephanopoulos ended with a staggering $16 million settlement—$15 million paid to Trump and another $1 million to cover his legal costs.
At the heart of this dispute was Stephanopoulos’ false insistence that Trump was found liable for raping E. Jean Carroll—an outright misrepresentation of the jury’s findings. While the jury ruled Trump liable for sexual abuse and defamation, they explicitly rejected Carroll’s claim of rape. Stephanopoulos, however, continued to repeat this inaccurate assertion with an enthusiasm that Trump’s legal team aptly categorized as slanderous.
ABC’s decision to settle didn’t come lightly. On paper, they likely could have leaned on New York Times v. Sullivan, the landmark precedent that shields media organizations from most defamation suits, particularly when public figures are involved. Winning such cases remains exceedingly difficult. But Trump’s team knew the real stakes: discovery.
Under subpoena, George Stephanopoulos was scheduled to testify, and ABC would have faced the unprecedented risk of exposing internal communications—emails, texts, and strategy meetings—that may have revealed a deliberate campaign to smear Trump. The damage of such exposure wouldn’t just be financial; it would devastate ABC’s already shaky credibility and provide a damning look behind the curtain of a media machine many believe to be openly hostile to Trump and Republicans at large.
The media’s response has been nothing short of apocalyptic. Fellow news outlets have sounded alarms about how the settlement could “chill journalism,” painting Trump’s victory as an attack on the sacred duty to “speak truth to power.” But what they’re really terrified of is losing their unchecked ability to lie without consequence.
The settlement signifies a shift: slandering conservatives is no longer an untouchable sport. Trump’s lawsuits don’t need to result in legal victories to achieve their objective. By forcing discovery and dragging these networks into courtrooms, Trump compels media organizations to reveal their biases, vendettas, and questionable practices.
For years, mainstream media outlets enjoyed a protected bubble—free to lob accusations, twist narratives, and pummel their political opponents under the cloak of “journalism.” But their business model is crumbling. Public trust in the media is at an all-time low, and each new lawsuit brings more scrutiny, more exposure, and another crack in their already fractured credibility. The Jenga tower is wobbling, and Trump is relentlessly pulling out the pieces.
ABC’s settlement doesn’t mark a victory for Trump alone; it’s a seismic moment for anyone who’s tired of the media’s arrogance and duplicity. This wasn’t just a payout to avoid trial—it was a shield against humiliation. Trump has made it clear: he’s not in this for the money. He’s after their credibility. He’s after their reputations. He’s after their heads mounted on the proverbial wall, trophies in his long-running battle against a media class that has vilified him since day one.
And the fear among journalists is palpable. It’s not just Trump; it’s what Trump represents—a turning of the tide where media outlets will have to reckon with their actions. No longer can they casually brand political opponents as monsters, confident in the impossibility of meaningful repercussions. Now, every accusation comes with risk, and every falsehood carries a price.
What’s unfolding is not a suppression of truth, as the media so dramatically laments, but a forced return to accountability. For the press, it’s a reckoning decades in the making. And for Trump? It’s a victory—one far greater than money could ever measure.
