My Dear Students | How this book helped me understand ‘Swiss Challenge’

'Amidst the collapse of the advertising-based model, old style journalists continued to stick to their guns, worried that if journalists focus on how to earn money, they might forget why they chose journalism in the first place,' writes Nuggehalli.

'Switzerland is all and good, but don’t let Switzerland kill your creativity or your joy in practising your trade, whatever it might be,' says Nigam

'Switzerland is all and good, but don’t let Switzerland kill your creativity or your joy in practising your trade, whatever it might be,' says Nuggehalli. (Source: Penguin Random House)

My dear students,

Today, I will do something that I am loath to do, which is that I will talk about products. Like many of you, I am puzzled by the commoditization of our lives; not only do we sell commodities to each other, but we are increasingly considered as commodities ourselves, open to manipulation by people who are interested in us not for ourselves but in our abilities to contribute to their plans. However, recently I read a book on the history of The New York Times where the use of product talk made me think that perhaps I was wrong before. Maybe there is something redeemable in our obsession about products.

This book I read recently is ‘The Times’ by Adam Nagourney. It is a fascinating history of the New York Times from the 60s to the present and by extension, the history of major events in the United States during the same period. Like all newspapers, the NYTimes struggled with a collapse of its business model. Solid newspaper reporting was not enough to attract subscribers. People were flocking to social media for news, and where people flocked, advertisers pursued in their wake. Amidst the collapse of the advertising-based model, old style journalists continued to stick to their guns, worried that if journalists focus on how to earn money, they might forget why they chose journalism in the first place (you can substitute journalism for your favourite profession).

Some years ago, Jill Abramson, the executive editor of the NYTimes, ran into one of the new age journalists that the Times had hired. Here is the relevant excerpt:

‘She wandered out of her office one day and came across Tony Brancato, who introduced himself and told the executive editor he had just been hired as the executive head of Web Products.

What does that mean, she asked?

Well, product management sits at the intersection of the news side, the business side, and technology, trying to figure out how to create a user experience, Brancato responded. She stared at him. Brancato became flustered as he struggled to explain a job that straddled the business and news worlds, a position that would not have existed ten years earlier.

Jill, he finally said. I am Switzerland.

There is no Switzerland, Abramson responded and walked away.’

Ever since I read this passage, I have been trying to figure out what Brancato meant when he said he is Switzerland. Switzerland is famously neutral. Perhaps he meant that news products, say multi-media presentations on herbal recipes, are neutral when compared to regular news, as in they don’t take any positions. But I can’t see how any kind of news, even reports on recipes, can exist without taking positions. Perhaps a better explanation is that he was inspired by Switzerland’s seamless blend of cultures-Francophone, German and Italian. The blending is literally physical. Once, when I travelled to Basel, I had a sliding doors moment when I realised I could land up in different countries, France or Switzerland, depending on which door I choose. I chose the wrong door leading to some inter-country confusion.

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So perhaps Brancato meant news products are not homogenous like regular news but a blend of content, business and technology, a blend so intricate that there are no separate identities of the components anymore, that one is now identified with the other. If this is what he was getting at, it needs a bit more reflection. I think what he is getting at is that there is no point searching in our work for excellence only for the sake of excellence. This is not a cry of despair but an extortion to pragmatism and modernism. Pragmatism because unless your work helps people in some way, your work will go unrecognised. Modernism because unless your work harnesses technology to communicate itself better, it will fall by the wayside.

I will end with a caution. Switzerland is all and good, but don’t let Switzerland kill your creativity or your joy in practising your trade, whatever it might be. Perhaps we must take heed from Jill Abramson’s reaction after all. We can’t escape the requirements of commerce and the demands of technology, but let’s not lose sight of the work itself. If we do, we will end up with a simulacrum of what we set out to do. Simulacrums are good for appearances, but appearances deceive more than satisfy; ultimately we must not end up with products that we are not proud of.

I think, more than anything else, Abramson was afraid that the NYTimes journalism, in its pursuit of internet fortune and technological wizardry, would lose its character and its focus on reportage and expert opinions. Despite some missteps, that didn’t happen. The NYT online presence is hugely profitable today, while also retaining its distinctive character. If we are bound to be Switzerland, we might want to take a closer look at how the NYTimes has managed the Swiss challenge.

(‘My dear students’, a fortnightly column that is a conversation with young minds on current events, books, popular culture — just about anything that’s worth talking over a cup of coffee.)