After several years of litigation across the federal appellate courts, the U.S. Supreme Court in a unanimous opinion has finally crafted a test that lower courts can use to determine whether a government official engaged in “state action” such that censoring individuals on the official’s social media page—even if also used for personal purposes—would violate the First Amendment.

The case, Lindke v. Freed, came out of the Sixth Circuit and involves a city manager, while a companion case called O'Connor-Ratcliff v. Garnier came out of the Ninth Circuit and involves public school board members.

A Two-Part Test

The First Amendment prohibits the government from censoring individuals’ speech in public forums based on the viewpoints that individuals express. In the age of social media, where people in government positions use public-facing social media for both personal, campaign, and official government purposes, it can be unclear whether the interactive parts (e.g., comments section) of a social media page operated by someone who works in government amount to a government-controlled public forum subject to the First Amendment’s prohibition on viewpoint discrimination. Another way of stating the issue is whether a government official who uses a social media account for personal purposes is engaging in state action when they also use the account to speak about government business.  

As the Supreme Court states in the Lindke opinion, “Sometimes … the line between private conduct and state action is difficult to draw,” and the question is especially difficult “in a case involving a state or local official who routinely interacts with the public.”

The Supreme Court announced a fact-intensive test to determine if a government official’s speech on social media counts as state action under the First Amendment. The test includes two required elements:

• the official “possessed actual authority to speak” on the government’s behalf, and
• the official “purported to exercise that authority when he spoke on social media.”

Although the court’s opinion isn’t as generous to internet users as we had asked for in our amicus brief, it does provide guidance to individuals seeking to vindicate their free speech rights against government officials who delete their comments or block them outright.

This issue has been percolating in the courts since at least 2016. Perhaps most famously, the Knight First Amendment Institute at Columbia University and others sued then-president Donald Trump for blocking many of the plaintiffs on Twitter. In that case, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit affirmed a district court’s holding that President Trump’s practice of blocking critics from his Twitter account violated the First Amendment. EFF has also represented PETA in two cases against Texas A&M University.

Element One: Does the official possess actual authority to speak on the government’s behalf?

There is some ambiguity as to what specific authority the Supreme Court believes the government official must have. The opinion is unclear whether the authority is simply the general authority to speak officially on behalf of the public entity, or instead the specific authority to speak officially on social media. On the latter framing, the opinion, for example, discusses the authority “to post city updates and register citizen concerns,” and the authority “to speak for the [government]” that includes “the authority to do so on social media….” The broader authority to generally speak on behalf of the government would be easier to prove for plaintiffs and should always include any authority to speak on social media.

Element One Should Be Interpreted Broadly

We will urge the lower courts to interpret the first element broadly. As we emphasized in our amicus brief, social media is so widely used by government agencies and officials at all levels that a government official’s authority generally to speak on behalf of the public entity they work for must include the right to use social media to do so. Any other result does not reflect the reality we live in.

Moreover, plaintiffs who are being censored on social media are not typically commenting on the social media pages of low-level government employees, say, the clerk at the county tax assessor’s office, whose authority to speak publicly on behalf of their agency may be questionable. Plaintiffs are instead commenting on the social media pages of people in leadership positions, who are often agency heads or in elected positions and who surely should have the general authority to speak for the government.

“At the same time,” the Supreme Court cautions, “courts must not rely on ‘excessively broad job descriptions’ to conclude that a government employee is authorized to speak” on behalf of the government. But under what circumstances would a court conclude that a government official in a leadership position does not have such authority? We hope these circumstances are few and far between for the sake of plaintiffs seeking to vindicate their First Amendment rights.

When Does the Use of a New Communications Technology Become So “Well Settled” That It May Fairly Be Considered Part of a Government Official’s Public Duties?

If, on the other hand, the lower courts interpret the first element narrowly and require plaintiffs to provide evidence that the government official who censored them had authority to speak on behalf of the agency on social media specifically, this will be more difficult to prove.

One helpful aspect of the court’s opinion is that the government official’s authority to speak (however that’s defined) need not be written explicitly in their job description. This is in contrast to what the Sixth Circuit had, essentially, held. The authority to speak on behalf of the government, instead, may be based on “persistent,” “permanent,” and “well settled” “custom or usage.”  

We remain concerned, however, that if there is a narrower requirement that the authority must be to speak on behalf of the government via a particular communications technology—in this case, social media—then at what point does the use of a new technology become so “well settled” for government officials that it is fair to conclude that it is within their public duties?

Fortunately, the case law on which the Supreme Court relies does not require an extended period of time for a government practice to be deemed a legally sufficient “custom or usage.” It would not make sense to require an ages-old custom and usage of social media when the widespread use of social media within the general populace is only a decade and a half old. Ultimately, we will urge lower courts to avoid this problem and broadly interpret element one.

Government Officials May Be Free to Censor If They Speak About Government Business Outside Their Immediate Purview

Another problematic aspect of the Supreme Court’s opinion within element one is the additional requirement that “[t]he alleged censorship must be connected to speech on a matter within [the government official’s] bailiwick.”

The court explains:

For example, imagine that [the city manager] posted a list of local restaurants with health-code violations and deleted snarky comments made by other users. If public health is not within the portfolio of the city manager, then neither the post nor the deletions would be traceable to [his] state authority—because he had none.

But the average constituent may not make such a distinction—nor should they. They would simply see a government official talking about an issue generally within the government’s area of responsibility. Yet under this interpretation, the city manager would be within his right to delete the comments, as the constituent could not prove that the issue was within that particular government official’s purview, and they would thus fail to meet element one.

Element Two: Did the official purport to exercise government authority when speaking on social media?

Plaintiffs Are Limited in How a Social Media Account’s “Appearance and Function” Inform the State Action Analysis

In our brief, we argued for a functional test, where state action would be found if a government official were using their social media account in furtherance of their public duties, even if they also used that account for personal purposes. This was essentially the standard that the Ninth Circuit adopted, which included looking at, in the words of the Supreme Court, “whether the account’s appearance and content look official.” The Supreme Court’s two-element test is more cumbersome for plaintiffs. But the upside is that the court agrees that a social media account’s “appearance and function” is relevant, even if only with respect to element two.

Reality of Government Officials Using Both Personal and Official Accounts in Furtherance of Their Public Duties Is Ignored

Another problematic aspect of the Supreme Court’s discussion of element two is that a government official’s social media page would amount to state action if the page is the “only” place where content related to government business is located. The court provides an example: “a mayor would engage in state action if he hosted a city council meeting online by streaming it only on his personal Facebook page” and it wasn’t also available on the city’s official website. The court further discusses a new city ordinance that “is not available elsewhere,” except on the official’s personal social media page. By contrast, if “the mayor merely repeats or shares otherwise available information … it is far less likely that he is purporting to exercise the power of his office.”

This limitation is divorced from reality and will hamstring plaintiffs seeking to vindicate their First Amendment rights. As we showed extensively in our brief (see Section I.B.), government officials regularly use both official office accounts and “personal” accounts for the same official purposes, by posting the same content and soliciting constituent feedback—and constituents often do not understand the difference.

Constituent confusion is particularly salient when government officials continue to use “personal” campaign accounts after they enter office. The court’s conclusion that a government official “might post job-related information for any number of personal reasons, from a desire to raise public awareness to promoting his prospects for reelection” is thus highly problematic. The court is correct that government officials have their own First Amendment right to speak as private citizens online. However, their constituents should not be subject to censorship when a campaign account functions the same as a clearly official government account.

An Upside: Supreme Court Denounces the Blocking of Users Even on Mixed-Use Social Media Accounts

One very good aspect of the Supreme Court’s opinion is that if the censorship amounted to the blocking of a plaintiff from engaging with the government official’s social media page as a whole, then the plaintiff must merely show that the government official “had engaged in state action with respect to any post on which [the plaintiff] wished to comment.”  

The court further explains:

The bluntness of Facebook’s blocking tool highlights the cost of a “mixed use” social-media account: If page-wide blocking is the only option, a public of­ficial might be unable to prevent someone from commenting on his personal posts without risking liability for also pre­venting comments on his official posts. A public official who fails to keep personal posts in a clearly designated per­sonal account therefore exposes himself to greater potential liability.

We are pleased with this language and hope it discourages government officials from engaging in the most egregious of censorship practices.

The Supreme Court also makes the point that if the censorship was the deletion of a plaintiff’s individual comments under a government official’s posts, then those posts must each be analyzed under the court’s new test to determine whether a particular post was official action and whether the interactive spaces that accompany it are government forums. As the court states, “it is crucial for the plaintiff to show that the official is purporting to exercise state authority in specific posts.” This is in contrast to the Sixth Circuit, which held, “When analyzing social-media activity, we look to a page or account as a whole, not each individual post.”

The Supreme Court’s new test for state action unfortunately puts a thumb on the scale in favor of government officials who wish to censor constituents who engage with them on social media. However, the test does chart a path forward on this issue and should be workable if lower courts apply the test with an eye toward maximizing constituents’ First Amendment rights online.

EFF legal intern Jack Beck contributed to this post.

A California trial court recently departed from wide-ranging precedent and held that Snap, Inc., the maker of Snapchat, the popular social media app, had created a “defective” product by including features like disappearing messages, the ability to connect with people through mutual friends, and even the well-known “Stories” feature. We filed an amicus brief in the appeal, Neville v. Snap, Inc., at the California Court of Appeal, and are calling for the reversal of the earlier decision, which jeopardizes protections for online intermediaries and thus the free speech of all internet users.

At issue in the case is Section 230, without which the free and open internet as we know it would not exist. Section 230 provides that online intermediaries are generally not responsible for harmful user-generated content. Rather, responsibility for what a speaker says online falls on the person who spoke.

The plaintiffs are a group of parents whose children overdosed on fentanyl-laced drugs obtained through communications enabled by Snapchat. Even though the harm they suffered was premised on user-generated content—messages between the drug dealers and their children—the plaintiffs argued that Snapchat is a “defective product.” They highlighted various features available to all users on Snapchat, including disappearing messages, arguing that the features facilitate illegal drug deals.

Snap sought to have the case dismissed, arguing that the plaintiffs’ claims were barred by Section 230. The trial court disagreed, narrowly interpreting Section 230 and erroneously holding that the plaintiffs were merely trying to hold the company responsible for its own “independent tortious conduct—independent, that is, of the drug sellers’ posted content.” In so doing, the trial court departed from congressional intent and wide-ranging California and federal court precedent.

In a petition for a writ of mandate, Snap urged the appellate court to correct the lower court’s distortion of Section 230. The petition rightfully contends that the plaintiffs are trying to sidestep Section 230 through creative pleading. The petition argues that Section 230 protects online intermediaries from liability not only for hosting third-party content, but also for crucial editorial decisions like what features and tools to offer content creators and how to display their content.

We made two arguments in our brief supporting Snap’s appeal.

First, we explained that the features the plaintiffs targeted—and which the trial court gave no detailed analysis of—are regular parts of Snapchat’s functionality with numerous legitimate uses. Take Snapchat’s option to have messages disappear after a certain period of time. There are times when the option to make messages disappear can be crucial for protecting someone’s safety—for example, dissidents and journalists operating in repressive regimes, or domestic violence victims reaching out for support. It’s also an important privacy feature for everyday use. Simply put: the ability for users to exert control over who can see their messages and for how long, advances internet users’ privacy and security under legitimate circumstances.

Second, we highlighted in our brief that this case is about more than concerned families challenging a big tech company. Our modern communications are mediated by private companies, and so any weakening of Section 230 immunity for internet platforms would stifle everyone’s ability to communicate. Should the trial court’s ruling stand, Snapchat and similar platforms will be incentivized to remove features from their online services, resulting in bland and sanitized—and potentially more privacy invasive and less secure—communications platforms. User experience will be degraded as internet platforms are discouraged from creating new features and tools that facilitate speech. Companies seeking to minimize their legal exposure for harmful user-generated content will also drastically increase censorship of their users, and smaller platforms trying to get off the ground will fail to get funding or will be forced to shut down.

There’s no question that what happened in this case was tragic, and people are right to be upset about some elements of how big tech companies operate. But Section 230 is the wrong target. We strongly advocate for Section 230, yet when a tech company does something legitimately irresponsible, the statute still allows for them to be liable—as Snap knows from a lawsuit that put an end to its speed filter.

If the trial court’s decision is upheld, internet platforms would not have a reliable way to limit liability for the services they provide and the content they host. They would face too many lawsuits that cost too much money to defend. They would be unable to operate in their current capacity, and ultimately the internet would cease to exist in its current form. Billions of internet users would lose.

Special thanks to legal intern Alissa Johnson, who was the lead author of this post.

EFF recently filed an amicus brief in the U.S. Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit urging the court to reverse a lower court decision upholding a State Department rule that forces visa applicants to the United States to disclose their social media identifiers as part of the application process. If upheld, the district court ruling has severe implications for free speech and privacy not just for visa applicants, but also the people in their social media networks—millions, if not billions of people, given that the “Disclosure Requirement” applies to 14.7 million visa applicants annually.

Since 2019, visa applicants to the United States have been required to disclose social media identifiers they have used in the last five years to the U.S. government. Two U.S.-based organizations that regularly collaborate with documentary filmmakers around the world sued, challenging the policy on First Amendment and other grounds. A federal judge dismissed the case in August 2023, and plaintiffs filed an appeal, asserting that the district court erred in applying an overly deferential standard of review to plaintiffs’ First Amendment claims, among other arguments.

Our amicus brief lays out the privacy interests that visa applicants have in their public-facing social media profiles, the Disclosure Requirement’s chilling effect on the speech of both applicants and their social media connections, and the features of social media platforms like Facebook, Instagram, and X that reinforce these privacy interests and chilling effects.

Social media paints an alarmingly detailed picture of users’ personal lives, covering far more information that that can be gleaned from a visa application. Although the Disclosure Requirement implicates only “public-facing” social media profiles, registering these profiles still exposes substantial personal information to the U.S. government because of the number of people impacted and the vast amounts of information shared on social media, both intentionally and unintentionally. Moreover, collecting data across social media platforms gives the U.S. government access to a wealth of information that may reveal more in combination than any individual question or post would alone. This risk is even further heightened if government agencies use automated tools to conduct their review—which the State Department has not ruled out and the Department of Homeland Security’s component Customs and Border Protection has already begun doing in its own social media monitoring program. Visa applicants may also unintentionally reveal personal information on their public-facing profiles, either due to difficulties in navigating default privacy setting within or across platforms, or through personal information posted by social media connections rather than the applicants themselves.

The Disclosure Requirement’s infringements on applicants’ privacy are further heightened because visa applicants are subject to social media monitoring not just during the visa vetting process, but even after they arrive in the United States. The policy also allows for public social media information to be stored in government databases for upwards of 100 years and shared with domestic and foreign government entities.  

Because of the Disclosure Requirement’s potential to expose vast amounts of applicants’ personal information, the policy chills First Amendment-protected speech of both the applicant themselves and their social media connections. The Disclosure Requirement allows the government to link pseudonymous accounts to real-world identities, impeding applicants’ ability to exist anonymously in online spaces. In response, a visa applicant might limit their speech, shut down pseudonymous accounts, or disengage from social media altogether. They might disassociate from others for fear that those connections could be offensive to the U.S. government. And their social media connections—including U.S. persons—might limit or sever online connections with friends, family, or colleagues who may be applying for a U.S. visa for fear of being under the government’s watchful eye.  

The Disclosure Requirement hamstrings the ability of visa applicants and their social media connections to freely engage in speech and association online. We hope that the D.C. Circuit reverses the district court’s ruling and remands the case for further proceedings.