The Inquirer for serious readers

Barely a month ago, with much fanfare, the Inquirer’s editor, Bill Marimow, announced “a new look to your Philadelphia Inquirer, along with major new additions to our content.” Marimow’s open letter to readers promised expanded suburban coverage, as well as new features that would reinvigorate the paper’s Metro, Business, Sports, Entertainment, Health, Food and Real Estate sections.

Pointedly omitted from that list was the Inquirer’s Editorial section, and for good reason: As I discovered over breakfast the next morning, the new Inquirer had eliminated its Op-Ed page on every day but Sunday, and had also eliminated its Editorial page altogether on Saturdays.

The Inquirer’s low regard for its editorial section traces back at least to Eugene Roberts, its legendary executive editor in the ’70s and ’80s, who professed no real interest in editorial pages other than as a convenient place to park women and minority journalists in order to avoid charges of hiring bias, and as a place to let letter-writers blow off steam as an alternative to blowing up the Inquirer building.

Abrupt dismissal

The low esteem is also evident from the section’s label: “Opinion.” As my idol, the late Vermont Royster of the Wall Street Journal, remarked to me when I was a Journal reporter, “You can get opinions from any cab driver. What matters is the insight you bring to the reader.”

In spite of itself, the Inky’s editorial pages often did deliver insight. I had grown accustomed to feeding my mind each morning as I fed my tummy Corn Flakes and peanut butter on toast. Now Philadelphia’s newspaper of record had removed food for thought from my morning menu.

At first I attributed this decision to the same dumbing-down instinct that has caused the Inquirer to decimate its arts and culture coverage in recent years. But on Monday Marimow, a seasoned and highly respected journalist marinated in the best Gene Roberts Inquirer tradition, was abruptly fired by publisher Robert Hall.

Three lessons

The reason was not immediately clear but seems related to Marimow’s reluctance to make even more cuts and radical changes than he announced last month. That’s the same scenario, of course, that has played out at other major American newspapers over the past decade as they grapple with the impending obsolescence of print media.

What are the applicable lessons here?

1. In any given situation, something’s probably going on that you’re not aware of. Marimow last month was probably trying to put the best face on a situation that caused him great pain.

2. The Inquirer, like most metropolitan newspapers, is struggling to keep its head above water, much like a retailer of office machines who's heavily invested in typewriters. It’s not the best climate for long-range news planning, or even short-run news coverage decisions.

3. The ownership ultimately sets the tone. In the past, great newspapers were owned by families— the McLeans in Philadelphia, the Sulzbergers in New York, the Grahams in Washington, the Otises and Chandlers in Los Angeles, the Bancrofts at the Wall Street Journal— that were characterized by generations of newsprint in their blood, a patient approach to return on their investment, and a tendency to answer to their ancestors rather than to Wall Street money managers.

Today the families and even the public stockholders are gone. The current newspaper ownership model— at the Inquirer and in other big cities— more often consists of well-meaning civic boosters or not-so-well-meaning politicians who think newspapers are still important. These are journalistic amateurs, not people to look to for stable leadership (the Inquirer has changed hands four times in the past eight years) or journalistic guidance.

High standards

So— for serious readers, is there anything left to read in the Inquirer? Yes. Read and cherish the following writers, because their days (like the days of print journalism itself) are surely numbered.

Patrick Kerkstra. A perceptive observer of local issues, capable of thinking creatively about urban solutions.

Inga Saffron. Her weekly Friday column on design and architecture is informed, intelligent and impassioned— a genuine voice of conscience shining a spotlight on tacky builders and developers.

Trudy Rubin. Intelligent if inelegant foreign affairs columnist blessed with a wealth of global contacts; especially valuable because she’s unburdened by the self-consciousness of her higher-profile counterparts in New York and Washington.

Carolyn Hax. Syndicated self-help columnist who never fails to surprise and impress me with her sensible and original psychological insights.

Craig LaBan. Still the ultimate restaurant critic. His passion for anonymity is no gimmick; it’s the mark of a critic who takes his work very, very seriously.

David Patrick Stearns, Stephan Salisbury and Peter Dobrin. The last three survivors of the Inquirer’s once-vaunted full-time arts staff. Stearns is a critic of uncompromisingly high musical standards; Salisbury and Dobrin between them comprise Philadelphia’s institutional cultural memory. (Dobrin’s recent three-part series on local arts philanthropy won’t be easily replicated by other future media.)

Doonesbury. Sometimes I think Garry Trudeau has a better finger on the pulse of the times than any journalist— even (as was the case this month) when he’s recycling old strips.♦


To read responses, click here.
To read a follow-up by Dan Rottenberg, click here.