From the Globe and Mail blurb: "The media business is challenged the world over, but nowhere more than in the United States. Enter a uniquely American saviour, Sam Zell, a man who doesn't care what's on the front page. As long as it makes money."
From the Globe and Mail. Reporter Sinclair Stewart set the scene by offering up a few choice Zellisms:
And then, of course, there was his meeting with a group of Los Angeles Times employees at the paper's Olympic printing facility in early February. Mr. Zell seized the lectern, dispensed with any pleasantries, and began his introduction by comparing the newspaper's troubles to a case of erectile dysfunction.
“I was trying to think about how I could describe to you what my job is, and I think in the most simplistic terms the challenge is how do we get somebody 126 years old to get it up?”
After the laughter subsided, Mr. Zell delivered his punch-line of a prescription: “Well, I'm your Viagra, okay?”
It is difficult to conceive of a more unlikely saviour for the L.A. Times – or American newspapers, in general – than this brazen, foul-mouthed, and often outrageous, billionaire. Unlike some owners who have been attracted to newspapers as an ideological pulpit, Mr. Zell appears to be in it for one reason and one reason alone: profit. ...
Zell made his considerable fortune in real estate. He knows nothing about newspapers or journalism.
Oddly enough, this is where some long-time industry observers believe he may have an edge: The very fact that he is a visible outsider with no experience in the business may free him from the shackles of stale thinking.
Newspapers have a reputation for belonging to an insular and exclusive club, one where processes have become calcified, monopolistic lassitude has become entrenched, and where change is viewed with suspicion, if not outright resistance – hardly the qualities suited to deal with a disruptive technology like the Internet.
Uprooting one mindset and forcibly enshrining another is no guarantee of success, and there are fears it could undermine the journalism upon which broadsheets like the L.A. Times and the Tribune have built their brands.
Nor can such moves provide a quick solution to Tribune's punitive debt load, which looks as though it will force Mr. Zell to begin selling some titles to stave off default, something he said he did not want to do when he took over.
But given the industry's dim prognosis, and the continuing cuts, it's possible that without some kind of intervention – even one as seemingly bizarre as Mr. Zell's – there may not be much left to undermine.
“The industry has become afraid of its own shadow in terms of the way it operates,” said Lauren Rich Fine, a former Wall Street media analyst who now teaches at Kent State University. “Someone from the outside coming in can bulldoze through some of the cultural issues. I think in an industry where it's really hard to get people to change, it's not a bad idea to just shock them into it, and say you're either with us or against us. There's just no other way to do it.”