The Confetti Cannons

The Assault Gun

Rudolf Augstein, the founder of Der Spiegel, coined a phrase in the 1960s that became a winged word: The media were the "assault guns of democracy" (Sturmgeschütze der Demokratie).

He meant a press that asks uncomfortable questions of those in power. That probes deeper. That doesn't let go. That uncovers scandals and holds the responsible accountable. 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

Somewhere in the past decades, the assault guns were rebuilt. 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 uniforms. They even fire regularly. But what comes out of the barrels is no longer a projectile.

It's confetti.

Colorful. Loud. Festive. And completely harmless.

The Celebrant

An exemplary case of this transformation is Gabor Steingart and his media company "The Pioneer."

The staging is impressive: Two ships on the Spree River, in the heart of Berlin's government district. A "patrol boat of democracy," as Steingart calls it. Ad-free journalism, financed by paying "Pioneers." Prominent guests. Daily podcasts. A "mission for democratic journalism."

And a favorite quote from Hannah Arendt:

This sounds like dialogue. Like exchange. Like a shared search for truth. The perfect philosophical foundation for a participatory media model.

But what happens when the second person actually speaks?

The Self-Experiment

I became a paying "Pioneer." I wanted to be part of this movement. I believed in the mission. The welcome email confirmed my hopes:

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

The result: Nothing.

No response. No reaction. No dialogue. The "second opinion" remained unheard.

The Icarus Test

Then I found a concrete error. In an article titled "Elon Musk: Icarus Burns Up," Steingart compared the tech billionaire to the mythological figure who flew too close to the sun.

The problem: Steingart wrote that King Minos was Icarus's father and had warned his son not to fly too high.

That's wrong. Fundamentally wrong.

This is not a typo. This 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. Multiple times. Over weeks.

No reaction. No correction. At my last check, the error was still in the article.

The Cancellation

I cancelled my subscription.

Now the system reacted. Immediately. Automatically. Efficiently.

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

The system responds to money flow, not to content.

The Anatomy of a Confetti Cannon

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

• The Ship — Symbol of independence, mobility, freedom. In reality, it's also chartered to banks – an event venue rather than a newsroom ship.
• The Pathos — "Patrol boat of democracy," "mission," "movement." Big words that suggest substance.
• The Arendt Quote — Philosophical legitimation for a dialogue that doesn't take place.
• The "Pioneers" — Readers as shareholders, as a movement, as a community. In reality: a muted audience.
• Opinion — Cheap to produce, abundantly available. Unlike investigative research, which is expensive.

Thomas Knüwer, himself a former Handelsblatt journalist, has called it "assertion journalism": opinions masquerading as facts. Sources replaced by "some say." Numbers cherry-picked until they support the thesis.

Industry Criticism

I'm not the only one who has noticed this.

Moritz Döbler of the Rheinische Post considered Steingart's regular attacks on the "established media" purely destructive — and reminded everyone that Steingart himself spent three decades on the payroll at Spiegel and Handelsblatt.

Übermedien criticized the "pathos that replaces meaning" and analyzed a promotional video in which a young woman "screams and gesticulates" while Martin Luther King, the Pope, and Angela Merkel are shown in the background.

The Business Model

The logic is simple:

• Producing opinion — cheap
• Conducting research — expensive
• Engaging in dialogue with readers — labor-intensive

Therefore: opinion at industrial scale, packaged in democracy-pathos, garnished with prominent guests on the ship. A one-way street with a water view.

The "Pioneers" may applaud and pay. They may feel like part of a movement. What they may not do: demand the dialogue that was promised to them.

The Celebrant of Democracy

Steingart and his team constantly talk about "celebrating" democracy. The word is revealing.

To celebrate — that's what a priest does. He performs the ritual. He holds up the monstrance. He speaks the prescribed words.

But democracy is not a ritual. It's a process. It lives on contradiction, on argument, on correction. On the willingness to admit mistakes and fix them.

Those who only celebrate democracy have already given up on it.

The Systemic Function

Steingart is just one example. A particularly visible one, because he has taken the staging further than almost anyone else. 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's completely harmless to power.

The assault gun, on the other hand — real critical journalism — probes deeper. Demands answers. Corrects errors. Engages in dialogue. Makes itself uncomfortable.

The assault gun is expensive. It's labor-intensive. It causes trouble.

The confetti cannon is cheap. It's convenient. It gets ratings.

The Consequences

When citizens believe they have critical media — while only receiving confetti — the pressure for real oversight is missing. The illusion of journalism replaces journalism.

This is more dangerous than open propaganda. Because you can defend yourself against propaganda. You recognize it.

The confetti cannon, however, disguises itself as what it has replaced. It wears the uniform of the assault gun. It uses its language. It claims its legitimacy.

And it is completely empty.

The Icarus Error as Metaphor

It's no coincidence that the Icarus myth was told incorrectly. The confusion of Daedalus and Minos is symptomatic:

Daedalus — the inventor, the maker, the problem solver — is forgotten.

Minos — the king, the power, the authority — is declared the father.

This is the worldview of the confetti cannon: Power is the natural origin of all things. The inventor, the critic, the inconvenient one — they don't appear in this story.

Or if they do, only as the one who crashes.