The chef cooks here!
Noted: Dealing with occupational hazards is a skill that must be learned—even by journalists. Especially when they’re as unavoidable and game-changing as dealing with one’s own boss.
Column: Dealing with occupational hazards is a skill that must be learned—even by journalists. Especially when they’re as inevitable and game-changing as dealing with your own boss. No names, Mbwana! Nor the names of those who expressed skepticism after the last column. That column put forward the idea that in newsrooms, you earn your share of power by having—or at least feigning—ideas. And you make yourself indispensable by regularly letting others steal them.The skeptics’ objection to this thesis is: All well and good, but unfortunately, our media are governed less by ideas than by minds—specifically, the minds of the bosses.
In fact, this country seems to be ruled by a sort of «editor-in-chief hydra»: No sooner is one of the well-known figures cut down somewhere than he reemerges at a rival publication. Another of the well-known figures then takes his place. Consequently, the personnel policies of national publishers often resemble those of local go-go club owners: The latter advertise for «new dancers» as soon as they arrive from the neighboring village; the publisher, for his part, poaches from the neighboring newspaper and proudly announces, “New editor-in-chief!”
No wonder the newspapers are starting to look more and more alike—just like one bald head after another. But enough of this cultural pessimism. After all, we have to live with the Hydra. And it’s a matter of common sense to regard editors-in-chief as we do cigarettes and all-nighters: a dreadful but unavoidable occupational hazard. So what can be done?
Ideally, whatever you want—with a few precautions. The fundamental problem is that you shouldn’t stand out too much in the presence of your bosses, but that’s unavoidable in newspapers. Especially since the editorials and lead articles by various editors-in-chief speak in no uncertain terms. «The boss is in charge here!»: That may well be the case in
In restaurants, it's a recommendation; in print media, it's the opposite.
The difficulty lies in the fact that you can only convey your brilliance (and we're all brilliant, aren't we?) in writing when
It can conceal a death sentence. Ideas that are disguised are no longer ideas. So it pays to be socially loyal to your boss. He must think that he is the sun, but you are the moon. Which explains why you occasionally shine without arousing suspicion.
The easiest boss to deal with is the friendly editor-in-chief—hired specifically for his distinguished gray temples. The only problem is not falling asleep on the job. Otherwise, all you have to do is pay him tribute for the ideas you’ve just whispered to him. When you applaud, he—like any real actor—will never suspect a thing.
Far more dangerous is the (slowly dying out) liberal maverick with a penchant for journalistic integrity. This person will either support you or persecute you, but in any case will want to mold you. Mix measured opposition with occasional agreement. And periodically ask the man of experience for advice. He will be like a father to you.
The leaders of the ’68 generation pose the toughest challenges to authority: years of relentless collectivism have turned them into autistic pit bulls. In their media outlets (whether left-wing, right-wing, high-profile, or obscure), they tear into anything that’s weak; in editorial meetings, they either kill or hype proposals within ten seconds. They praise and criticize, usually for no apparent reason. They’re walking random number generators. The only way to deal with this is: 1. Don’t take low blows any more personally than bad weather, and 2. When dealing with them, for every two compliments, throw in an ironic retort. This type of boss loves flattery, but hates flatterers.
So is flattery the only thing that works against the editor-in-chief’s razor blade? Yes, Mbwana, I suppose there’s no other choice. Ultimately, the only thing that matters is real freedom, not the price paid for it. Still, one last warning: There are occupational diseases that can kill you.
Constantin Seibt is familiar with various dangerous types of editors-in-chief.
In fact, this country seems to be ruled by a sort of «editor-in-chief hydra»: No sooner is one of the well-known figures cut down somewhere than he reemerges at a rival publication. Another of the well-known figures then takes his place. Consequently, the personnel policies of national publishers often resemble those of local go-go club owners: The latter advertise for «new dancers» as soon as they arrive from the neighboring village; the publisher, for his part, poaches from the neighboring newspaper and proudly announces, “New editor-in-chief!”
No wonder the newspapers are starting to look more and more alike—just like one bald head after another. But enough of this cultural pessimism. After all, we have to live with the Hydra. And it’s a matter of common sense to regard editors-in-chief as we do cigarettes and all-nighters: a dreadful but unavoidable occupational hazard. So what can be done?
Ideally, whatever you want—with a few precautions. The fundamental problem is that you shouldn’t stand out too much in the presence of your bosses, but that’s unavoidable in newspapers. Especially since the editorials and lead articles by various editors-in-chief speak in no uncertain terms. «The boss is in charge here!»: That may well be the case in
In restaurants, it's a recommendation; in print media, it's the opposite.
The difficulty lies in the fact that you can only convey your brilliance (and we're all brilliant, aren't we?) in writing when
It can conceal a death sentence. Ideas that are disguised are no longer ideas. So it pays to be socially loyal to your boss. He must think that he is the sun, but you are the moon. Which explains why you occasionally shine without arousing suspicion.
The easiest boss to deal with is the friendly editor-in-chief—hired specifically for his distinguished gray temples. The only problem is not falling asleep on the job. Otherwise, all you have to do is pay him tribute for the ideas you’ve just whispered to him. When you applaud, he—like any real actor—will never suspect a thing.
Far more dangerous is the (slowly dying out) liberal maverick with a penchant for journalistic integrity. This person will either support you or persecute you, but in any case will want to mold you. Mix measured opposition with occasional agreement. And periodically ask the man of experience for advice. He will be like a father to you.
The leaders of the ’68 generation pose the toughest challenges to authority: years of relentless collectivism have turned them into autistic pit bulls. In their media outlets (whether left-wing, right-wing, high-profile, or obscure), they tear into anything that’s weak; in editorial meetings, they either kill or hype proposals within ten seconds. They praise and criticize, usually for no apparent reason. They’re walking random number generators. The only way to deal with this is: 1. Don’t take low blows any more personally than bad weather, and 2. When dealing with them, for every two compliments, throw in an ironic retort. This type of boss loves flattery, but hates flatterers.
So is flattery the only thing that works against the editor-in-chief’s razor blade? Yes, Mbwana, I suppose there’s no other choice. Ultimately, the only thing that matters is real freedom, not the price paid for it. Still, one last warning: There are occupational diseases that can kill you.
Constantin Seibt is familiar with various dangerous types of editors-in-chief.
> Constantin Seibt is a political and business editor at the WochenZeitung (WOZ).
