The quiet collapse of a Trump campaign manager’s defamation lawsuit reveals how the powerful use litigation to silence the press—and why we urgently need reform

Last Friday night, Chris LaCivita—co-manager of Donald Trump’s victorious 2024 presidential campaign—quietly dropped his defamation lawsuit against the Daily Beast. No fanfare. No press release. Just a silent retreat from a case he’d launched ten months earlier with the bravado of a man certain of his righteousness.

This wasn’t how LaCivita promised things would go. When he filed suit last March, he took to social media with characteristic swagger: “Fuck around and Find Out.” He told reporters he was “really looking forward to making my case in front of a jury.” His lawsuit claimed the Daily Beast’s reporting on campaign payments to his consulting firm had so damaged his reputation that repairs would cost “millions of dollars.”

Yet when the moment came to actually make that case, LaCivita folded. The Daily Beast didn’t retract its story. It didn’t apologize. It didn’t pay a single dollar. The outlet simply stood by its journalism—and LaCivita walked away.

The Real Story Behind the Lawsuit

What had the Daily Beast reported that supposedly warranted millions in damages? That LaCivita’s consulting firm received between $19.2 and $22 million from the Trump campaign during the 2024 election cycle. Journalist Michael Isikoff’s headline read: “Trump in Cash Crisis – As Campaign Chief’s $22m Pay Revealed.”

LaCivita claimed this created a “false impression that he was personally profiting excessively” from the campaign. After his lawyers complained, the Daily Beast made clarifications—noting the funds went to his consulting firm for various services including advertising expenditures, and adjusting the figure to $19.2 million. But these corrections weren’t enough for LaCivita. He sued anyway.

According to the Atlantic, the lawsuit had Trump’s personal blessing. On a campaign plane, Trump reportedly told LaCivita, “You should sue those bastards,” and later took to calling him “my $22m man” as a teasing nickname. The message was clear: use the courts to punish unfriendly press coverage.

This Is What Press Intimidation Looks Like

Make no mistake—this lawsuit was never really about vindicating LaCivita’s reputation. If it were, he wouldn’t have abandoned it the moment things got serious. This was a Strategic Lawsuit Against Public Participation, or SLAPP: litigation designed not to win in court, but to punish journalists for doing their jobs and to deter future coverage.

The Daily Beast accurately described it as “a transparent attempt to intimidate the Beast and silence the independent press.” And it worked, at least partially. The outlet had to spend ten months and undoubtedly significant legal fees defending journalism about publicly available Federal Election Commission data—information that voters have every right to know.

Think about what was actually at stake here: reporting on how a presidential campaign spent its money and compensated its top operatives. This isn’t gossip or innuendo. It’s core democratic accountability journalism. Campaign finance transparency exists precisely so citizens can understand who’s profiting from political operations and whether conflicts of interest might influence decision-making.

Yet for the crime of reporting these facts, the Daily Beast faced a lawsuit threatening millions in damages. Smaller outlets without deep pockets might have chosen not to publish such stories in the first place rather than risk financial ruin.

A Pattern, Not an Anomaly

LaCivita’s lawsuit wasn’t an isolated incident. As the Daily Beast noted, it was “one front in a broader pattern of legal standoffs pitting Trump and those in his orbit against media organizations.” Trump and his allies have spent years weaponizing defamation law against journalism they perceive as hostile—regardless of its accuracy.

This strategy exploits a fundamental asymmetry in our legal system: it costs relatively little for a wealthy plaintiff to file a lawsuit, but defending against one requires enormous resources. Even when media outlets ultimately prevail, they’ve already paid the price in legal fees, staff time, and stress. And the message to other journalists is unmistakable: write critically about powerful people at your own financial peril.

The chilling effect is real and intentional. When political operatives can sue over accurate reporting about campaign expenditures and simply walk away when challenged, they’ve successfully used the courts as a censorship tool. They don’t need to win; they just need to make journalism expensive and frightening enough that some stories never get written.

We Need Urgent Reform

The LaCivita case makes clear that our current legal framework is inadequate to protect press freedom from bad-faith litigation. We need immediate reforms:

First, Congress must pass comprehensive federal anti-SLAPP legislation. Many states have such laws, but they vary widely in strength and don’t cover federal courts. We need a uniform standard allowing judges to quickly dismiss meritless defamation suits against journalists reporting on matters of public concern—and requiring plaintiffs to pay defendants’ legal costs when their suits are thrown out. If LaCivita had faced mandatory fee-shifting, he might have thought twice before filing.

Second, we need enhanced protections specifically for campaign finance journalism. Courts should recognize that reporting on how political campaigns spend money and compensate operatives is quintessentially protected speech. Public figures who sue over such coverage should face an extremely high bar to proceed.

Third, we need expedited judicial review for obviously frivolous cases. LaCivita’s lawsuit dragged on for ten months before he abandoned it. A fast-track system for dismissing SLAPP suits would prevent them from being used as prolonged harassment campaigns.

What’s at Stake

Some might argue that defamation law exists to protect reputations, and people should be able to sue if they believe they’ve been wronged. That’s true—but it’s not what happened here. LaCivita didn’t pursue his case to vindication. He used the legal system to punish journalism he didn’t like, then walked away when the Daily Beast refused to be intimidated.

This matters because democracy depends on a press willing to scrutinize power without fear. When political operatives can weaponize the courts against accountability journalism—reporting on campaign expenditures from public records, no less—we all lose. Voters lose access to information they need. Journalists lose the ability to do their jobs without risking financial ruin. And the powerful gain another tool to operate in darkness.

Chris LaCivita’s lawsuit failed. But the system that allowed him to file it, impose costs on a news outlet for accurate reporting, and walk away without consequence remains intact. Until we reform that system, the next political operative with deep pockets and thin skin will try the same tactic.

And eventually, they might succeed in silencing a story that voters desperately need to hear.