The Confetti Cannons

Herbert Wehner called the media the “assault guns of democracy.” At some point the assault guns were refitted. From the outside they still look the same. But what comes out of the barrels is no longer a shell. It is confetti.

The Assault Gun

Herbert Wehner, the old SPD disciplinarian, coined a phrase in the 1960s that became a byword: the media were the “assault guns of democracy.”

He meant a press that asks those in power uncomfortable questions. That probes. That does not let go. That uncovers scandals and holds those responsible to account. Media as the fourth estate — not in the service of government, but as its corrective.

That was the idea. But ideas are subject to erosion.

The Transformation

At some point in the last few decades the assault guns were refitted. Not abolished — that would have been too conspicuous. But transformed.

From the outside they still look the same. The barrels are polished, the carriages gleam, the crew wears uniform. Fire is even delivered regularly. But what comes out of the barrels is no longer a shell.

It is confetti. Colourful. Loud. Festive. And entirely harmless.

The Celebrant

A prime example of this transformation is Gabor Steingart and his media company “The Pioneer.”

The staging is impressive: two ships on the Spree, in the heart of Berlin’s government quarter. An “patrol vessel of democracy,” as Steingart calls it. Advertisement-free journalism, financed by paying “Pioneers.” Prominent guests. Daily podcasts. A “mission for democratic journalism.”

And a favourite quote from Hannah Arendt:

“Truth exists only between two.” — Hannah Arendt

That sounds like dialogue. Like exchange. Like a shared search for truth. But what happens when the second party actually speaks?

The Self-Experiment

I became a paying “Pioneer.” I wanted to be part of this movement. The welcome email confirmed my hopes:

“We both share the same values regarding freedom of opinion. We both take the view that a second opinion is always needed to conduct democratic discourse.”

“We are always open to criticism and suggestions from our Pioneers.”

— Gabor Steingart, Media Pioneer

So I tried to give feedback. On various topics. Through various channels. Repeatedly.

The result: nothing. No reply. No reaction. No dialogue. The “second opinion” went unheard.

The Icarus Test

Then I found a concrete error. In an article about Elon Musk titled “Icarus burns up,” Steingart wrote that King Minos had been the father of Icarus and had warned his son not to fly too high.

That is wrong. Fundamentally wrong.

Daedalus was the father of Icarus — the brilliant inventor who constructed the wings and warned his son. King Minos was the one who imprisoned Daedalus and Icarus on Crete. He is the tyrant, not the caring father.

This is not a typo. It is the confusion of the two central figures of the myth — in an article whose entire point is built on this metaphor.

I reported the error. Repeatedly. Over weeks. No reaction. No correction.

The Cancellation

I cancelled my subscription. Now the system responded. Immediately. Automatically. Efficiently.

Not with a reply to my substantive objections. But with a flood of special offers. Discounts. Urgent invitations to stay.

The system responds to money flow, not to content.

The Anatomy of the Confetti Cannon

What Steingart has perfected is not journalism. It is the aesthetics of journalism.

• The ship — symbol of independence and freedom. In reality also chartered to banks while the editors work in the café.
• The pathos — “patrol vessel of democracy,” “mission,” “movement.” Big words that suggest substance.
• The Arendt quote — philosophical legitimation for a dialogue that does not take place.
• The “Pioneers” — readers as a movement. In reality: a silent audience.
• The opinion — cheap to produce, abundantly available. Unlike research, which is expensive.

Thomas Knüwer, himself a former Handelsblatt journalist, called it “assertion journalism”: opinions that disguise themselves as facts. Sources replaced by “some say.” Numbers sought until they support the thesis.

The Industry Critique

Daniel Drepper, head of the joint investigation desk of NDR, WDR and Süddeutsche Zeitung, judged that Steingart’s marketing was damaging journalism and democracy.

Moritz Döbler of the Rheinische Post called Steingart’s attacks on the “established media” exclusively destructive — and recalled that Steingart himself spent three decades at Spiegel and Handelsblatt.

Übermedien criticised the “pathos that substitutes for meaning” and analysed a promotional video in which Steingart’s daughter screams and gesticulates while Martin Luther King, the Pope and Angela Merkel appear in the background.

The Business Model

• Producing opinions — cheap
• Conducting research — expensive
• Maintaining dialogue with readers — laborious

So: opinion at industrial scale, packaged in democratic pathos, garnished with prominent guests on the ship. One-way street with a water view.

The Celebrant of Democracy

Steingart and his team constantly speak of “celebrating” democracy. The word is telling.

Celebrating — that is what a priest does. He performs the ritual. He raises the monstrance. He speaks the prescribed words. But democracy is not a ritual. It is a process. It lives on contradiction, on dispute, on correction.

Whoever merely celebrates democracy has already abandoned it.

The Systemic Function

Steingart is only one example. But the pattern is everywhere.

The confetti cannon simulates critical journalism. It makes noise. It looks festive. It gives citizens the feeling that someone is watching. But it is entirely harmless to power.

The assault gun — genuine critical journalism — probes. Demands answers. Corrects errors. Conducts dialogue. Makes itself uncomfortable. It is expensive. It is laborious. It causes trouble.

The confetti cannon is cheap. It is convenient. It makes ratings.

The Consequences

If citizens believe they have critical media — while receiving only confetti — then the pressure for genuine oversight is absent. The illusion of journalism replaces journalism.

That is more dangerous than open propaganda. Because one can defend against propaganda. One recognises it. The confetti cannon, by contrast, disguises itself as what it has replaced.

The Icarus Error as Metaphor

It is no coincidence that it was precisely the Icarus myth that was told incorrectly.

Daedalus — the inventor, the maker, the problem-solver — is forgotten. Minos — the king, the power, the authority — is declared the father. That is the worldview of the confetti cannon: power is the natural origin of all things. The inventor, the critic, the inconvenient one — he does not appear in this story. Or if he does, only as the one who crashes.

“The most dangerous lie is the one that is almost true.”