| The Renzo Piano-designed New York Times Building looms large over that sliver of uncolonized Midtown—a parcel of underloved land between the futuristic Hudson Yards megalopolis and the handsome mid-century office towers a few blocks eastward, the ones framed over Gershwin in the timeless opening montage of Manhattan. As I’ve noted before in this space, the Times Building was conceived with majesty in mind. The red walls of its newsroom appear through the exterior glass facade as editors’ pencil strokes. The building, itself, was erected as a shrine to media and journalism just as other similar empires were looking to downsize to Tier II real estate in Battery Park, or worse.
Back when I worked at the Times Company, now about a decade ago, you’d walk into the newsroom by passing an old school receptionist’s desk that was strewn with the individual entrails of the Sunday newspaper bundle—the massive Arts & Leisure section, Travel, Real Estate, Styles, The Book Review, and so forth. It was a fitting reminder of the precedence of the work that made the institution so great.
But it was the next thing you saw that most fittingly summed up the flavor of the joint. As you entered the gargantuan newsroom, you’d stride near a couple glass-enclosed breakout rooms where editors and writers would discuss sensitive stories or kibitz or often something in between.
You could always be sure that everyone who walked into the newsroom clocked the identities of their colleagues in those spaces, especially if a member of the leadership team loomed nearby. Offices may be informal gossip parlors, but news organizations take the human condition to its apotheosis. Just imagine what happens when some of the most talented and competitive reporters on the planet share the same turf—nothing is private, feelings can become archery targets, and most everyone has an opinion. Despite the augustness of that tower—the power and glory of it all, as Gay Talese put it—it could often feel like a high school cafeteria.
I was thinking about this phenomenon recently amid CNN’s latest turn in the public spotlight following C.E.O. Chris Licht’s decision to air a town hall conversation with Donald Trump. Despite the obvious merits of the event—the guy is running for president, and CNN is the professed worldwide leader in news—the Trump town hall seemed destined to infuriate parties inside and outside the building.
CNN, of course, achieved record revenue and ratings under Jeff Zucker, the preternaturally talented TV executive, largely through a vocal anti-Trump position. But ever since the company was acquired as part of the Warner Bros. Discovery roll-up, things have changed drastically. In Licht’s glasnost era, perhaps influenced by the conservative politics of WBD board member John Malone and the realpolitik of its C.E.O., David Zaslav, CNN has been reformatted as a centrist (center-left, really) and intentionally empathetic safe space upon which to reflect our profoundly balkanized electorate. As Puck readers know, it was a high-minded idea, but it has been difficult to execute.
The town hall itself has been chewed over relentlessly, and I have little to add about Trump’s predictable lies or Kaitlan Collins’ incredibly professional attempts to fact-check him. The three million viewers represented a high-water mark for the era, but pales in comparison to what a Tucker Carlson livestream could pull in on Twitter. We know that an era is ending, and a new and uncertain one is dawning, but I’ve found myself most curious about what’s really going on backstage, or in those backoffices.
Earlier this week, Puck published a number of fantastic pieces of journalism about CNN’s latest evolution and the changes in our media industry more broadly. In The Trump-CNN Thunderdome, Tara Palmeri got the real story about what took place in that New Hampshire auditorium. Television viewers may have heard relentless support for Trump’s fabrications and puerile nicknames, but the audience was actually far more skeptical of the president—a leading indicator that his re-election campaign isn’t a manifest destiny.
Meanwhile, the peerless media ace Dylan Byers reported on the anger and anxiety inside the building as CNN staffers across the company writhed in discontent that the former president used their air to perpetuate his lies. In Licht’s Dispassion Punch, Dylan explains a fascinating, decidedly reverse-Zuckerian phenomenon: Licht has the full support of his overlords while many of his charges seethe.
Lastly, if you only have time to read one piece this weekend, I’d turn your attention to the other bizarro media coupling across the aisle: the commingling of Tucker Carlson and Elon Musk. In Tucker & Elon: A Shotgun Media Marriage for Our Times, Tina makes a few brilliant points about whether Tucker can take his talents to social media. But her overall assessment is far grander, and worth pausing over. We’re entering an era where absolutely no one—not Tucker, nor Elon, nor CNN, nor even the great Zaz—knows precisely what’s coming around the corner. That ambiguity is the story of our time, and our industry. And it’s precisely our infatuation here at Puck.
Have a great weekend,
Jon |
