Katie Couric spent years at the center of American broadcast journalism. Now the former CBS Evening News anchor is sounding an extraordinary alarm about the network she once helped lead—and what she fears may be happening behind the celebrated stopwatch of “60 Minutes.”

Couric, who made television history in 2006 as the first woman to anchor a major network’s solo weekday evening newscast, delivered a brutal assessment of CBS News under Bari Weiss.

Her grade for the network: a “D.”

But it was Couric’s warning about alleged interference with “60 Minutes” that carried the most serious implications.

“The stories coming out of ‘60 Minutes’ about trying to direct the storytelling in a way that is less offensive to the administration or that fudges the truth is a total embarrassment,” Couric told Natalie Korach of media watchdog Status.

“There is probably some anticipatory obedience, if you will.”

The phrase cut directly to the fear now hovering over one of American television’s most respected news programs: that journalists may soften coverage before the Trump administration even needs to complain.

Couric did not provide firsthand evidence that specific reports had been falsified. Her remarks were based on accounts she said she had read about reporters, producers and personnel changes behind the scenes. CBS and Weiss were not quoted responding to her criticism in the report.

Nevertheless, the warning carries unusual weight.

For decades, “60 Minutes” has built its reputation on investigations that powerful people would often prefer never reach the air. Its correspondents have confronted presidents, corporate executives, military leaders and alleged criminals. Its signature ticking clock promises viewers that difficult questions are coming—and that they will not be hurried away.

But Couric suggested that the machinery behind those investigations could be changing.

“From everything I’ve read about the reporters who were fired, some of the stories behind the scenes were very troubling,” she said.

Those accounts, combined with leadership turmoil and high-profile departures, have fueled growing anxiety over whether CBS News can preserve its editorial independence during Trump’s second administration.

Couric’s concern was not limited to political pressure. She also questioned whether the network would continue investing the time, labor and money required to produce the meticulous journalism for which “60 Minutes” is known.

“I do think those pieces are so good because they are so labor intensive and require a lot of time, a lot of original reporting, and a lot of care,” she said.

“We’ll see if the quality of the reporting and the quality of the pieces are still there.”

That uncertainty strikes at the heart of the program’s identity. “60 Minutes” reports are rarely assembled from a few television interviews and recycled footage. The most consequential segments can take months of research, repeated source meetings, international travel and intensive legal review.

If that process is weakened—or if stories are reshaped to avoid provoking the White House—the damage would extend beyond a single broadcast. It could undermine the trust accumulated by generations of correspondents and producers.

Couric also pointed to turmoil elsewhere at CBS, including the firing of late-night host Stephen Colbert. She suggested the move may have affected viewing habits beyond his own program, potentially hurting the network’s morning-show audience because some viewers traditionally leave their televisions tuned to the same channel overnight.

“I’m not sure if it’s the primary driver of declining ratings,” Couric said. “The Colbert firing might not have helped either.”

Her assessment paints a portrait of a news division facing pressure from multiple directions: political scrutiny, audience erosion, management upheaval and internal doubts about editorial control.

The most explosive concern, however, remains what Couric called “anticipatory obedience.”

The term describes a form of self-censorship in which institutions comply with the perceived wishes of authority before receiving a direct order. In journalism, that can mean changing language, narrowing an investigation or abandoning a story because of the reaction it might provoke.

Such decisions may occur quietly. Viewers see only the finished report—not the tougher version that may have existed before executives intervened.

Couric stopped short of declaring “60 Minutes” irreparably compromised. Her “D” grade, rather than an “F,” left open the possibility that the network can recover. She also acknowledged the continuing strength of the program’s carefully produced journalism.

But her message was unmistakable: reputation alone cannot protect an institution whose internal standards are being tested.

When “60 Minutes” returns, viewers will be watching more than the stories appearing on screen. They will also be searching for signs of what may have been softened, omitted or left unaired.

The ticking clock will sound the same.

Katie Couric’s warning raises a far more unsettling question: Will the journalism behind it still be fearless?