Thursday, January 22, 2009

Sun-Times: The most jinxed newspaper

If newspapers were characters in comic strips, the Chicago Sun-Times would be Joe Bftsplk, the perpetually jinxed guy in the old Al Capp panels who walked around with a black cloud over his head.

Joe, whose last name is supposed to sound like a Bronx cheer, didn’t mean any harm. It’s just that bad luck followed him everywhere he went. Cars crashed. Pianos fell on pedestrians. Joe couldn’t catch a break. And neither could those around him.

In other words, he was just like the Sun-Times, which is about to enter its 25th year of colorful, sometimes criminal and almost always dysfunctional corporate governance. The big question is whether it will make it to its 26th year.

The latest twist in the paper’s quarter-century of unparalleled bad karma is that the board of directors of the parent Sun-Times Media Group today was ousted by dissident shareholders who are rightfully dissatisfied that the company’s stock – which closed at $15.58 on Dec. 31, 2004 – is now worth 9 cents a share. In that period of time, more than $1.25 billion in shareholder value went up in smoke.

Now, the company, which has been struggling with declining circulation, tumbling revenues and faltering profitability for more than two decades, is about to undergo another in a long, long, long line of tumultuous management turnovers.

Given the fragile state these days of the newspaper business, it’s hard to see how the dangerously depleted Sun-Times is going to get out of this alive, especially as the No. 2 newspaper in what, at best, has become a 1½ newspaper town.

The company has suffered $31.2 million in operating losses in the last 12 months on $331 million in sales. With the $99.8 million in cash the company had in the bank at the end of September, it theoretically could sustain three more years of such losses, assuming sales don’t weaken, expenses don’t rise and the company can extinguish some $600 million in assorted tax liabilities.

That is a lot of “ifs.” As an alumnus of the paper and loyal son of Chicago, I hope the Sun-Times makes it. If only it could get out from under that black cloud…

When the jinx began

I can tell you exactly when the spell of bad luck began, because I was there.

The year was 1984 and I stepped into the elevator near the newsroom for the short, four-story ride to the first floor. The only other person in the elevator was the then-publisher of the paper, Marshall Field V, who I, the mere city editor, barely knew.

“Don’t worry,” volunteered Marshall, who never had spoken to me in his life. “I would never sell the paper to Rupert Murdoch.”

That’s when I realized the paper was about to be sold to Rupert Murdoch. Within days, I proved to be right.

The staff was rooting for the purchase of the paper by our editor, the dashing James F. Hoge Jr., who pulled an all-nighter to come up with an eleventh-hour bid to match Murdoch’s $90 million price. But Marshall and his brother Ted evidently decided they would rather sell the paper to Murdoch than let their family treasure fall into the hands of the hired help.

It was on a wintry day in early 1984 that Rupert Murdoch came to town to claim his prize. He arrived in the company of an over-cologned guy named Robert Page, who not only carried the title of publisher but carried Rupert’s suitcase, too.

They appointed a couple of Fleet Street castoffs as co-editors, who rapidly turned our thoughtful, respected and reasonably prosperous tabloid into a scandal sheet with such headlines as this red, front-page screamer: “MEN CAN HAVE BABIES, TOO!”

The Fleet Streeters rapidly ran off not only readers and advertisers but about a fifth of the news staff, too. I was among them, soon venturing to San Francisco but leaving my heart in Chicago.

Meanwhile, there was never to be another dull moment back at the Sun-Times.

In a guru’s thrall

Within a couple of years of acquiring and plundering the Sun-Times, Murdoch decided to begin buying the national chain of television stations that formed the basis of what today is the Fox Network.

Because federal rules prohibited him from owning a newspaper and TV station in the same market, Murdoch decided to sell the Sun-Times to Bob Page, who bought the paper for $144 million in 1986 with the backing of a New York investment firm called Adler & Shaykin.

Page’s reign lasted a couple years, marked among other things by his infatuation with a guru in India whose gifts were celebrated in the newspaper from time to time in stories ordered up by the publisher.

Page departed in the summer of 1988 “after he lost an intense power struggle with the newspaper's chief financial officer, Donald F. Piazza,” according to the New York Times, which added: “Earlier, Mr. Piazza had brought about the ouster of two of Mr. Page’s lieutenants.”

Charles T. Price, a hard-nosed labor attorney who had been brought in as the newspaper’s general manager, replaced Page as publisher. Price oversaw a series of acquisitions that rolled together nearly 90 suburban and outlying newspapers into what potentially could have been a powerful marketing and ad-sales network.

The operative word here is “potential.” For all the opportunity that the acquisitions promised, a host of cultural, technological, union, managerial and other issues left the company with an unwieldy collection of properties that performed, to put it generously, in a sub-optimal fashion.

Casting about for an exit, the New York investors in 1994 sold the papers for $180 million to Hollinger International, a Canadian publishing company with global pretensions helmed by the buccaneering (and, we later learned, crooked) Conrad Black.

That’s when things went from bad to worse.

Next: Fading to Black

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Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Lutefisk beats politics? You betcha

The Democrats took control of the House and the President fired the secretary of defense, but the top stories on the minds of newspaper readers in Minneapolis yesterday were a paean to Minnesota wine and a piece entitled, “Lutefisk: It’s not a joke.”

That’s one of the intersting things I found in a quick analysis of reader reaction to the tsunami of election coverage that just crested over us. The study suggests there is a major disconnect between what editors want to print and what readers want to read.

Since the majority of newspapers track the stories website visitors send to their friends, I rounded up the three most-emailed stories yesterday at eight major newspapers. The results appear below.

Of the 24 stories in the sample, fully two-thirds had nothing whatsoever to do with the election. Only five (20.8%) contained election results or analysis. Only three (12.5%) dealt with the resignation of Donald Rumsfeld in the aftermath of the vote.

The non-election fare ranged widely from a no-knead bread recipe in the New York Times to the follow-up on an investigative report in the Los Angeles Times to a USA Today story about a naked man arrested for carrying a concealed weapon.

The only paper whose readers put election news in all three of the top spots was the Denver Post. The other two election stories were chosen by readers of the Wall Street Journal. With all the election news concentrated in those two papers, no election stories made the Top Three in any of the other six.

What does it all mean?

As a journalist, I would say news selection, especially in such matters as an election changing the balance of power for the first time in 12 years, is too sacred to be affected by pandering to subscribers who are more interested in where the naked man put his gun than in the details of the Senate recount in Virginia.

As a marketing guy, however, I would say there is an uncomfortable, if not dangerous, incongruity between the intentions of the editors and the expectations of their readers.

One explanation for the apparent indifference to post-election coverage is that readers may be suffering from profound fatigue after days of increasingly intrusive campaign advertising, relentless automated phone calls and wall-to-wall election coverage.

Another possibility is that readers, though still appropriately interested in the electoral process, felt they got all the news they needed in the barrage of TV, radio and online coverage that climaxed on election night.
In that case, they may have viewed the extensive morning-after newspaper coverage as a wretched excess of day-old news.

Editors must pay serious attention to the disconnect between them and their readers. And they need to fix it. Fast.

Top three emailed stories
on the day after the election


Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Woman fatally bitten by snake in church
UPS eyes job cuts in 2007
Rumsfeld quits; Bush taps Gates

Dallas Morning News
Pastor calls non-Christians "doomed"
Man dies in fall at freeway interchange
Crew of TV's "Cheaters" goes on trial

Denver Post
Voting problems overwhelm city
Roundup of local election results
Pot ballot initiative "goes up in smoke"

Los Angeles Times
Boss quits controversial hospital program
Buddy system helps special-ed students
L.A. investors bid on Tribune Co.

Minneapolis Star-Tribune
The Minnesota wine challenge
Lutefisk: It’s not just a joke
Facts behind flu shots

New York Times
The secret of great bread
No-knead bread recipe
Op-Ed: Married couples "too close"

USA Today
Naked man arrested for concealed weapon
Rumsfeld stepping down, Bush says
ABC putting "Lost" series on hiatus

Wall Street Journal
All eyes on congressional races
Rumsfeld resigns, replaced by Gates
Dems hope to control Senate; VA recount

Source: Newspaper sites 5-6 p.m. (EST) on Nov. 8


Friday, April 13, 2007

Smoke signals

Some thoughtful commentators (here and here) have asked what would possess guys like Mark Potts and me to speculate that growing investor pressures may – repeat, may – force structural changes at the New York Times Co.

That’s a good question. And the answer, which Mark penned more succinctly than I, is this: “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”

The effort to force the NYT Co. to give its public stockholders more control over the company was launched publicly a year ago by the manager of a major Morgan Stanley investment fund. Hassan Elmasry, managing director of Morgan Stanley Investment Management Ltd., rounded up the votes of 30% of the company’s shareholders to oppose the slate of directors proposed by the controlling Ochs-Sulzberger family. He is reprising the effort this year.

Now, why would Mr. Elmasry do that?

With literally a world of investment alternatives available to him, why would a sophisticated fund manager bother to pick a public fight with one of his portfolio companies – especially when it would be far easier to quietly sell the shares and deploy the assets more effectively someplace else? And why would he pick a fight with a family who until earlier this year had left $675 million in assets in his firm’s care?

Although NYT stock has fallen by 5% to $24.10 in the year since Mr. Elmasry launched the vote boycott, he could have sold his shares within the last 60 days for as much as $26.90. If he has kept his shares (public records are not sufficiently up to date to confirm whether he did), why would he be doing so? If Mr. Elmasry were inclined to divest his holdings, why would be conducting a high-profile campaign criticizing the management and board structure of the company?

With the family controlling 9 of the company’s 13 board seats and the newspaper M&A market depressed, it must be clear to Mr. Elmasry that NYT is not likely to be forced to the auction block in the way that Tribune Co. and Knight Ridder were. Why would he continue hanging on to the shares?

When Mr. Elmasry launched his campaign a year ago, his fund owned approximately 5% of the company’s outstanding stock. As of Dec. 31, his firm held 7% of its shares. Why did he accumulate more shares?

If you presume Mr. Elmasry and his firm are rational investors, which I do, then you can’t help but conclude, as I do, that they have a carefully conceived strategy to shake things up at NYT Co.

I don’t profess to know whether or how it might happen. But I smell smoke.