Depending on one’s disposition, the dot-com
fin de siècle was either an inopportune or exhilarating moment to enter the media business. On the one hand, the great firmaments of the industry were slowly collapsing before our very eyes. I was a college student when Napster seized the public imagination, and I recall the bizarre sensation of downloading
gratis the thousands of songs contained on the CDs in the immense Caselogic on my dorm room shelf.
Simultaneously, I’d watched as the publishing industry shrank from dozens of independent houses to a handful of conglomerates. The moguls of the era, from
Ted Turner to
Sumner Redstone, had made their fortunes in the burgeoning cable space. But it was already clear by the mid-aughts that there were too many channels, their offerings were too thin, and most people my age were already being drawn inexorably to social media. When
Tom Freston was fired by Sumner for losing out on MySpace to
Murdoch, who acquired the company for nearly $600 million in 2005, my generation of media grunts could only laugh. We knew something that the moguls didn’t: That bird couldn’t carry a tune.
On the bright side, it seemed that everything was up for grabs. The neat and orderly world I grew up with—one organized by periodicals and monthlies; linear broadcast schedules; glutted multiplexes; and major book releases that were touted with advance interviews on
60 Minutes—was going to smithereens. And I was going to come of age amid a generation that would be able to rewrite the rules of engagement. It would be apocryphal to suggest that I envisioned the future more presciently than anyone else who sat through that iPad presentation in the Condé amphitheater. But I got my first taste of the theme of my career: We were in for a transformative change that would only be followed by another… and then another.
Now, we’re countenancing the next great platform disruption, which comes in the form of artificial intelligence. In the coming years, A.I. is going to remake our culture in profound ways. As my partner
Matt Belloni has dutifully noted, so much of the agita underpinning last year’s writers strike coalesced around fears about how the technology might devalue creative talent. Our partner
Lauren Sherman has reported aplenty on how the disruptive technology is going to upend the direct-to-consumer and e-commerce space. Last year, during a Puck private event that our founding partner
Bill Cohan hosted with Goldman Sachs C.E.O.
David Solomon,
Andrew Ross Sorkin asked a question from his seat in the lounge about how A.I. would impact investment banking. The event was off the record, but I can assure you that David has a fulsome and thoughtful answer.
Naturally, I’m fascinated by how media companies are managing this transition. And this week,
Dylan Byers offered some profound clues about how
The New York Times is adopting the technology. The
Times is a fascinating bellwether for a number of reasons. As a former employee of the joint, I can tell you that the new-hire orientation program used to mention the various transformative investments that the company had passed on. (Google, for instance, was one of them.) But this generation of
Sulzbergers, who watched their forebears nearly lose the family jewel, aren’t so vain. They’re leaning into A.I. and full cognizant of the opportunities, and savings, it will afford the company.
And yet, it’s a delicate process. Newsgathering is the ultimate relationship job, and the
Times is profoundly sensitive about how it manages, and messages, its transition.
ChatNYT, Dylan’s excellent story on the topic, outlines the opportunities and challenges of this moment in our industry—one that we tend to view as exhilarating, but is not without its tradeoffs. Indeed, this is the story of our time, and the
mise-en-scène of our industry. It’s precisely what you should expect from Puck.