They did it again. Those at the top of Mcot, the state-owned operator of Channel 9 television station, made news headlines this week by slapping a ban on the Khon Khon Khon (People Searching People) documentary.
The doomed episode featured environmentalist Sasin Chalermlarp and his 388-kilometre march from Kamphaeng Phet to Bangkok to protest against the proposed Mae Wong dam.
Government spokesman Teerat Rattanasevi said the government had nothing to do with the move, citing the familiar excuse that the decision was "solely made by the Mcot board".
A public outcry over the ban forced Mcot boss Anek Permvongseni to insist there was no political interference in the decision.
The documentary was suspended because it offered "one-sided information" _ only the views of the dam opponents.
He claimed the show's producer was asked to add information from the "other side" so the programme could be put back on the station's schedule on Oct 12.
That did little to appease public anger.
In fact, I believe the Mcot chief must be regretting his course of action. If he could turn back time, I believe he might not have censored the programme.
And not because the ban attracted criticism; rather because outright bans or other forms of censorship naturally arouse public curiosity.
Example? Nua Mek 2, a sleepy drama series on Channel 3 which turned into the talk of the town earlier this year when the final episode was pulled off the air.
The controversy even followed a similar format of damage control _ Channel 3 maintained it was plain self-censorship, without any influence from the government. The difference in that case was that the Channel 3 audience never had the chance to view the banned episode, which depicted a corrupt government led by a prime minister involved in a shady satellite project.
The banned Khon Khon Khon episode, by contrast, has been posted in full online.
Like it or not, the government and Mr Anek will soon learn that censorship is useless in a world dominated by social media.
If they do not already realise it, someone needs to remind them that we are no longer in the 1960s, when TV, radio and print media were the only channels for the public to receive information and interact with current affairs.
Censorship is like putting a lid on a pot of boiling water: It will simply intensify the pressure.
Besides, it's ironic that an elected government _ which regularly claims a mandate from its 15 million voters to deliver questionable projects or pursue contentious moves like the charter amendment or the amnesty bill _ would resort to censorship, a move that puts it in the same league as any dictatorship.
Even more interesting is the reason given for Mcot's ban: that the documentary is "one-sided".
If one-sidedness is a cause that merits censorship, the first programme that must be removed from television and radio schedules is the weekly Yingluck Government Meets the People, which airs every Saturday morning.
The show is a pooled programme for radio. Even traffic radio stations _ Jor Sor 100 and Sor Wor Por 91 _ must wait until the prime minister turns off her microphone before they can broadcast their traffic reports. (And this pool system can indeed be a problem in the wake of a serious road accident or disaster.
On the morning of Sept 14, hundreds of city motorists were left frustrated as traffic around Wat Ratchapatikaram, at the foot of Krung Thon bridge, became totally paralysed as authorities repaired more than 20 electric poles that were pulled down in a storm.
Things may have been different if radio stations had been able to broadcast warnings rather than the PM's show.)
Needless to say, the "other side" of the information is nowhere to be found on Ms Yingluck's scripted talk show.
But one-sidedness is not the worst part of this weekly programme _ it is just one aspect that makes the show deadly boring. (This is one basic reason why they have to make it a pooled programme in the first place.)
What's worse is that you know quite well you need to look elsewhere for truth in the discussion of the controversial rice-pledging scheme; the 350-billion-baht flood and water management scheme; the 2-trillion-baht borrowing bill; the "success" of Ms Yingluck's expensive overseas trips; or any other subject the PM wants us to hear about.
That's why I keep my radio and TV off every Saturday morning.
Ploenpote Atthakor is Deputy Editorial Pages Editor, Bangkok Post.