Portuguese newspapers do not inform. There is no debate, serious investigation, or courage. Correio da Manhã, Público, Diário de Notícias, and all the others operate under the same control system: they depend on the State, institutional advertising, and economic groups tied to politics. This turns every newsroom into a giant filter, where only what suits those in power gets through. Everything else is cut, blocked, or disguised. The nationality of a criminal disappears if they are from a PALOP country, to avoid creating “social problems” or tensions. No one cares about the truth, only about the comfort of power.
Drug trafficking in elite spaces is another example. Lux Frágil is marketed as glamour, parties, and celebrities, but the reality is dirty, criminal, and well-known within the closed circle. A reporter who tries to write about this knows the story will die before it reaches the site or newspaper. The editor blocks it, the management orders it “adjusted,” and the journalist learns that challenging the system is professional suicide. Publishing a story exposing wealthy clients or politicians connected to drug networks is cutting one’s career at the root.
Even online sites work the same way. Everything passes through editors; everything is filtered. The State does not need to issue orders: controlling the money and connections is enough, and the entire press learns to obey. Pop-up ads, cookie warnings, vague sentences, long repetitive texts — all of this serves to trap the reader and disguise the emptiness. Information is diluted, fragmented, domesticated. The public sees crime, corruption, and drug trafficking, but only what the newspapers want them to see. Everything is formatted, manipulated, and comfortable, filtered to protect interests and hide the most inconvenient reality.
The blame is not only on the system; it lies with everyone inside it. Journalists, editors, directors — all know how it works and continue to obey. Many also obey because they fear losing their paycheck, the salary that supports families and lifestyles. Every omitted word, every hidden nationality, every suppressed scandal is the responsibility of those who write, review, and publish. Freedom of the press in Portugal is a lie. There are no free journalists; there are professionals conditioned to repeat what the system allows. Anyone who dares to break the line, even once, is crushed. The truth is not published. It is shaped, filtered, forgotten. Reading Portuguese newspapers is learning to read what has not been said. Manipulation is invisible but brutal: everything the reader receives is just the version that maintains order, protects elites, and hides the country’s filth. The reader consumes what is served, ignoring what has been cut, and thus the machine keeps running.
November 2025
This article is in English. Read the Portuguese version ⇒ Ler em português