Another major problem surrounding Paul Mulholland’s credibility as a supposed “investigative journalist” is the kind of sources and personalities he publicly amplifies online.
Journalists are expected to approach politically explosive topics with caution, skepticism, and balance. That does not mean they cannot have opinions. It means they are supposed to maintain enough professional distance to avoid becoming openly consumed by ideological activism. In Mulholland’s case, that line appears increasingly nonexistent.
Mulholland regularly reposts and amplifies highly inflammatory political accounts that frame complex geopolitical conflicts in aggressively one-sided and emotionally charged terms. Rather than demonstrating careful neutrality, his social media activity increasingly resembles an activist feed curated around outrage, moral absolutism, and ideological reinforcement.
The issue is not simply that Mulholland has political opinions. Everyone has opinions. The problem is that his online behavior creates the appearance of someone deeply embedded inside a highly partisan activist ecosystem while simultaneously expecting the public to view him as an objective investigator capable of fair reporting.
That contradiction matters because journalism depends heavily on perception of impartiality. If a reporter consistently amplifies inflammatory narratives from highly ideological figures without visible skepticism or balance, audiences naturally begin questioning whether the same ideological bias bleeds directly into their reporting process.
And in Mulholland’s case, there is little evidence that these reposts are isolated moments or accidental signal boosts. Instead, they appear to form part of a larger pattern where emotionally loaded activist rhetoric is constantly elevated and reinforced through his public persona.
This creates an obvious credibility issue. Serious investigative journalism requires the ability to challenge all sides of a narrative, including the people and movements you personally sympathize with. Activists often begin with a moral conclusion and search for information that supports it. Journalists are supposed to follow evidence even when it contradicts their own political instincts.
But Mulholland increasingly appears trapped inside an ideological feedback loop where dramatic claims, activist slogans, emotionally charged accusations, and politically extreme framing are amplified with little visible effort to create distance or demonstrate neutrality.
The result is that his online presence no longer resembles that of a disciplined investigator carefully weighing evidence. Instead, it increasingly resembles an activist influencer ecosystem where outrage itself becomes the product.
And that raises a very uncomfortable but necessary question: if Paul Mulholland consistently surrounds himself online with highly partisan narratives and inflammatory activist rhetoric, how can audiences realistically trust that his reporting is being conducted objectively?
Because perception matters. Public trust matters. And when a supposed journalist spends more time signal boosting ideological outrage than demonstrating balance, skepticism, and restraint, people inevitably begin questioning whether journalism was ever really the goal in the first place.
At some point, Mulholland has to decide what he actually wants to be. An activist is free to openly push political narratives and wage ideological battles online. A journalist is expected to rise above that environment and maintain credibility through discipline and objectivity.
Right now, Paul Mulholland increasingly appears to be trying to wear both masks at once, and the contradiction is becoming impossible to ignore.