The Newsboys & Pulitzer and Hearst. Courage is contagious.

My friend Carol texted me yesterday, “Remember that courage is contagious.” Yes, it is, and when I read about the newsboys of New York City going up against the oligarchs of the time—and winning—I felt inspired.

We could use a little inspiration today.

In 1899, the streets of New York belonged to the newsboys—tough, fast-talking kids, most of them dirt poor, orphaned, or immigrants, who spent their days hawking the city’s biggest newspapers: The New York World and The New York Journal, owned by guess who? Joseph Pulitzer and William Randolph Hearst, two of the most powerful men in the country. (Think Bezos and Musk.) For a penny or two per paper, these boys kept the city informed. They were the city’s veins through which the news flowed.

What a surprise that, in the middle of the summer, the giants of print betrayed them. Keep in the back of your mind that the money those boys brought in—with the sweat of their own brows and very little return on that investment—is what made those two men rich.

Pulitzer and Hearst were locked in a circulation war that had nothing to do with those boys. In fact, they needed the boys to sell the papers. Those boys spread their influence. But when war with Spain ended and the sensational headlines dried up, newspaper sales slowed. In a bid to protect their profits, the publishers raised the price of the bundles that the boys had to buy upfront. Instead of paying 50 cents for 100 papers, they now had to pay 60 cents—a price hike that might seem small to us but, to these kids, meant the difference between eating and going hungry. The boys weren’t getting more per paper; their profits were being slashed. And neither Pulitzer nor Hearst had any intention of lowering the price, even when other papers did.

For a while, the boys grumbled. They muttered about the unfairness of it. But what could they do? Pulitzer and Hearst were among the most powerful men in the country. They had no agency.

Oh, wait. Of course they did.

The first to act were the newsboys on the Brooklyn Bridge. Led by a 16-year-old named Kid Blink—a hot-tempered, one-eyed street kid with a thick Brooklyn accent—they decided they’d had enough. They weren’t going to take the price hike. They weren’t going to sell the papers.

At first, it was a small defiance. A handful of kids refused to buy their bundles. But then something extraordinary happened. The boycott spread. In the streets of Lower Manhattan, in Brooklyn, and across the boroughs, newsboys started rallying each other.

They organized massive meetings in Irving Hall and New Irving Hall, where thousands of kids—yes, kids—stood on stage, delivering fiery speeches about justice, fair pay, and the power of standing together. Kid Blink, wearing mismatched clothes and gesturing wildly, told the boys they had the power to beat the newspaper giants if they stuck together. “Ain’t that ten cents worth as much to us as it is to Pulitzer and Hearst?” he shouted.

The boys patrolled the streets, forming picket lines. If they saw anyone trying to sell The World or The Journal, they tore the papers from their hands. They stopped delivery wagons, overturned carts, and refused to let the papers be distributed. They spread the word, calling on New Yorkers to stop buying The World and The Journal. And the people listened.

Circulation of Pulitzer and Hearst’s papers plummeted by 70%.

For two weeks, Pulitzer and Hearst tried to hold out, thinking the boys would eventually break. They sent hired goons to intimidate them, but the boys didn’t flinch. They held rallies that drew thousands. They printed their own leaflets, spreading their message across the city. And in the end, Pulitzer and Hearst had no choice—they came to the table.

The newsboys didn’t get the price drop they wanted, but they forced a major concession: The publishers agreed to buy back unsold papers, meaning the boys wouldn’t have to eat the cost of unsold inventory. It was a major win. The boys had proven that even the smallest, most powerless workers—if they stood together—could take on the giants and win.

We are those newsboys. We truly are.

We consume newspapers. We buy from Amazon. We click on the ads on Facebook. We click on articles, watch the news, scroll through social media. And just like Pulitzer and Hearst used the newsboys to pad their profits, today’s media empires—MSNBC, ABC, CBS, The New York Times, The Washington Post—are cashing in on our attention while catering more and more to Trumpism, to both-sides narratives, to the normalization of what should be unthinkable.

Back to social media. The platforms are flooded with pro-Trump propaganda, AI-generated disinformation, and algorithmic nudges that pull people into his orbit. Every time we click, every time we engage, we help fuel it.

But here’s the thing: we don’t have to participate.

If those barefoot kids in New York could bring Pulitzer and Hearst to their knees, we can stop feeding the platforms that are caving to Trump and his enablers. We can stop clicking. Stop watching. Stop engaging. If enough of us do it—if we take the lesson from those newsboys—we can hit them where it hurts: their revenue.

Because make no mistake—just like in 1899, the stakes are real. The newsboys were fighting for fair pay. We’re fighting for democracy.

Courage. It takes courage, and I’m feeling it more and more.

I live in Maine. Our governor stood up to Trump, and he threatened her publicly. All the governors should have walked out of the room. Maybe they will next time. She can’t go it alone.

More and more people are starting to stand up to him. Macron put his hand on Trump’s arm yesterday in a press conference and corrected the lies DT was saying. Trump’s posture crumbled, and he leaned forward, slumped in the chair. Trust me, Macron will pay, but if everyone else starts to do it, DT will not win.

Every single human who gives a flying f*^k about this country, or right and wrong, good and evil—this is our moment. Find the courage within you to stop being silent. Quietly, firmly, say out loud, “That is just not true.” And walk away.

I did it for the first time on Facebook a few days ago. I called out someone I’ve done business with, in front of some clients, and she came back in a personal way about my family. I stood up. I told her she was wrong and out of line. Then I cut her off and she can no longer see me or my posts. I did it. First time. And, I feel good about it, and if any of my clients don’t like it, I’ll take the hit. Gulp.

Courage, my friends, family, and cohorts. Courage.