In the early spring of 2014, A G Sulzberger, then an editor on the metro desk of The New York Times, handed Jill Abramson, the executive editor, a copy of the “innovation report”. Sulzberger and a team of colleagues had been working on the document for months, and they’d produced a vivisection of the paper. The Times had been slow to adapt to the emergence of new digital platforms; it had thumbed its nose at the internet and thus the future. The report was insightful, enlightened and tough. And it drove Abramson over the edge.
She was upset because she didn’t think it credited her enough. Not a word of praise was offered for her having helped unite nytimes.com and the main newsroom. Worse, the report also encouraged The Times to loosen the barriers dividing the editorial and business sides. That, to her, was a road to perdition. “For me, it was an epic defeat,” she writes. She had wanted to be the executive editor who protected the newsroom from “crass commercialism”; she had wanted to avoid “metric charts influencing editors to promote stories according to their traffic”.
She raged quietly and plotted.
In May of that year, she made her move — and completely bungled it. She offered a managing editor position in charge of digital to Janine Gibson, an editor at The Guardian. Abramson then deceived her deputy, Dean Baquet, about the offer; when he found out the truth he was furious. A few days later, the publisher, Arthur Sulzberger Jr, A G’s father, fired Abramson. Baquet became executive editor.
The episode, in more ways than one, set Abramson on a path that would produce Merchants of Truth, her book examining four news organisations trying to sail through the storm of digital transformation: BuzzFeed, Vice, The Washington Post and The Times. It’s partly a memoir and partly a work of investigative reporting. But it’s mostly an audit of an industry that has spent much of the past decade wetting its pants in fear of digital technology and then worrying about whether to go to the dry cleaners. And it’s a damn good read.
The book tells the story in 13 chapters, three on each protagonist-company and one on Facebook. And it begins with BuzzFeed and its shrewd leader Jonah Peretti, the industry’s stalwart in figuring out how to profit off the ways modern technology taps into America’s id. The company he creates is a pioneer: at entertainment, at clickbait, at blurring lines between advertising and news, and at persuading other publishers to give him their precious data for almost nothing. He masters Facebook and quickly realises one of the central lessons for modern media: New social platforms aren’t just distribution platforms for your old stuff — like your website or your newspapers. They are entirely new places, with new rules, for you to create new content.
Meanwhile, as Peretti builds up an empire based on lists about basset hounds, he also creates a serious operation, BuzzFeed News, that churns out scoops and serious stories, including the first revelations about the role of fake news during the 2016 election. Peretti starts this money-losing wing, Abramson writes, as a way to create cachet for the money-winning side of his empire. The result is roughly similar to McDonald’s including slices of apples in Happy Meals.
Next we turn to Vice, the hard-partying empire of cool that in 2017 turned its founder Shane Smith into a billionaire. Abramson is impressed by some of the journalism and perhaps even by some of Smith’s famous bluster. But she has a keen eye for the central irony at the core of Vice. The company created branded content for giant advertisers — and killed stories that criticised them — at the same time that it cultivated an image of rebellion. It was giving the Man the finger while simultaneously massaging his back.
She was upset because she didn’t think it credited her enough. Not a word of praise was offered for her having helped unite nytimes.com and the main newsroom. Worse, the report also encouraged The Times to loosen the barriers dividing the editorial and business sides. That, to her, was a road to perdition. “For me, it was an epic defeat,” she writes. She had wanted to be the executive editor who protected the newsroom from “crass commercialism”; she had wanted to avoid “metric charts influencing editors to promote stories according to their traffic”.
She raged quietly and plotted.
In May of that year, she made her move — and completely bungled it. She offered a managing editor position in charge of digital to Janine Gibson, an editor at The Guardian. Abramson then deceived her deputy, Dean Baquet, about the offer; when he found out the truth he was furious. A few days later, the publisher, Arthur Sulzberger Jr, A G’s father, fired Abramson. Baquet became executive editor.
The episode, in more ways than one, set Abramson on a path that would produce Merchants of Truth, her book examining four news organisations trying to sail through the storm of digital transformation: BuzzFeed, Vice, The Washington Post and The Times. It’s partly a memoir and partly a work of investigative reporting. But it’s mostly an audit of an industry that has spent much of the past decade wetting its pants in fear of digital technology and then worrying about whether to go to the dry cleaners. And it’s a damn good read.
The book tells the story in 13 chapters, three on each protagonist-company and one on Facebook. And it begins with BuzzFeed and its shrewd leader Jonah Peretti, the industry’s stalwart in figuring out how to profit off the ways modern technology taps into America’s id. The company he creates is a pioneer: at entertainment, at clickbait, at blurring lines between advertising and news, and at persuading other publishers to give him their precious data for almost nothing. He masters Facebook and quickly realises one of the central lessons for modern media: New social platforms aren’t just distribution platforms for your old stuff — like your website or your newspapers. They are entirely new places, with new rules, for you to create new content.
Meanwhile, as Peretti builds up an empire based on lists about basset hounds, he also creates a serious operation, BuzzFeed News, that churns out scoops and serious stories, including the first revelations about the role of fake news during the 2016 election. Peretti starts this money-losing wing, Abramson writes, as a way to create cachet for the money-winning side of his empire. The result is roughly similar to McDonald’s including slices of apples in Happy Meals.
Next we turn to Vice, the hard-partying empire of cool that in 2017 turned its founder Shane Smith into a billionaire. Abramson is impressed by some of the journalism and perhaps even by some of Smith’s famous bluster. But she has a keen eye for the central irony at the core of Vice. The company created branded content for giant advertisers — and killed stories that criticised them — at the same time that it cultivated an image of rebellion. It was giving the Man the finger while simultaneously massaging his back.
MERCHANTS OF TRUTH The Business of News and the Fight for Facts Author: Jill Abramson Publisher: Simon & Schuster Price: $30 Pages: 534

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