Next week, the Supreme Court will hear oral argument in NetChoice v. Paxton and Moody v. NetChoice. The cases are about a pair of laws, enacted by Texas and Florida, that attempt to force large social media platforms such as YouTube, Instagram, and X to host large amounts of speech against their will. (Think neo-Nazi rants, anti-vax conspiracies, and depictions of self-harm.) The states’ effort to co-opt social media companies’ editorial policies blatantly violates the First Amendment.

Since the laws are constitutional trainwrecks, it’s no surprise that Texas’s and Florida’s legal theories are weak. They rely heavily on the notion that what social media companies do is not really editing — and thus is not expressive. Editors, Texas says in a brief, are “reputationally responsible” for the content they reproduce. And yet, the state continues, “no reasonable observer associates” social media companies with the speech they disseminate.

This claim is absurd on its face. Everyone holds social media companies “reputationally responsible” for their content moderation. Users do, because most of them don’t like using a product full of hate speech and harassment. Advertisers do, out of a concern for their “brand safety.” Journalists do. Civil rights groups do. Even the Republican politicians who enacted this pair of bad laws do — that’s why they yell about how “Big Tech oligarchs” engage in so-called censorship.

That the Texas and Florida GOP are openly contemptuous of the First Amendment, and incompetent to boot, isn’t exactly news. So let’s turn instead to some delicious ironies. 

Consider that the right’s favorite social media addict, robber baron, and troll Elon Musk has single-handedly destroyed Texas’s and Florida’s case.

After the two states’ laws were enacted, Elon Musk conducted something of a natural experiment in content moderation—one that has wrecked those laws’ underlying premise. Musk purchased Twitter, transformed it into X, and greatly reduced content moderation on the service. As tech reporter Alex Kantrowitz remarks, the new approach “privileges” extreme content from “edgelords.”

This, in turn, forces users to work harder to find quality content, and to tolerate being exposed to noxious content. But users don’t have to put up with this — and they haven’t. “Since Musk bought Twitter in October 2022,” Kantrowitz finds, “it’s lost approximately 13 percent of its app’s daily active users.” Clearly, users “associate” social-media companies with the speech they host!

It gets better. Last November, Media Matters announced that, searching X, it had found several iconic brands’ advertisements displayed next to neo-Nazi posts. Did Musk say, “Whatever, dudes, racist content being placed next to advertisements on our site doesn’t affect X’s reputation”? No. He had X sue Media Matters.

In its complaint, X asserts that it “invests heavily” in efforts to keep “fringe content” away from advertisers’ posts. The company also alleges that Media Matters gave the world a “false impression” about what content tends to get “pair[ed]” on the platform. These statements make sense only if people care — and X cares that people care — about how X arranges content on X.

X even states that Media Matters has tried to “tarnish X’s reputation by associating [X] with racist content.” It would be hard to admit more explicitly that social-media companies are “reputationally responsible” for, because they are “associated” with, the content they disseminate.

Consider also that Texas ran to Musk’s defense. Oblivious to how Musk’s vendetta hurts Texas’s case at the Supreme Court, Ken Paxton, the state’s attorney general, opened a fraud investigation against Media Matters (the basic truth of whose report Musk’s lawsuit does not dispute).

Consider finally how Texas’s last-ditch defense gets mowed down by the right’s favorite Supreme Court justice. According to Texas, social-media companies can scrub the reputational harm from spreading abhorrent content simply by “disavowing” that content. But none other than Justice Clarence Thomas has blown this argument apart. If, Thomas writes, a state could force speech on an entity merely by letting that entity “disassociate” from the speech with a “disclaimer,” that “would justify any law compelling speech.”

Only the government can “censor” speech. Texas and Florida are the true censors here, as they seek to restrict the expressive editorial judgment of social-media companies. That conduct is expressive. Just ask Elon Musk. And that expressiveness is fatal to Texas’s and Florida’s laws. Just ask Clarence Thomas. Texas’s and Florida’s social-media speech codes aren’t just unconstitutional, they can’t even be defended coherently.

Corbin Barthold is internet policy counsel at TechFreedom.