The Tim Ferriss Show - #311: Nick Thompson -- Editor-In-Chief of WIRED
Episode Date: April 27, 2018Nick Thompson (@nxthompson) is the editor-in-chief of WIRED. Under his leadership, Wired has launched a successful paywall, a Snapchat channel, and an AMP Stories edition; it has also been no...minated for National Magazine Awards in design and feature writing.Nick is a contributor for CBS News and regularly appears on CBS This Morning. He is also co-founder of The Atavist, a National Magazine Award-winning digital publication. Prior to joining Wired, Thompson served as editor of NewYorker.com from 2012 to 2017.Before The New Yorker, Nick was a senior editor at Wired, where he assigned and edited the feature story that was the basis for the Oscar-winning film Argo. In 2009, his book The Hawk and the Dove: Paul Nitze, George Kennan, and the History of the Cold War was published to critical acclaim. In February 2018, Thompson co-wrote WIRED's cover story Inside the Two Years That Shook Facebook -- and the World, an 11,000-word investigation based on reporting with more than 50 current and former Facebook employees.In this conversation, we cover a wide range of topics, questions, and skills, including:What makes a good pitch?How does a good features writer (or editor) "map" a story?How does writing get optioned for feature film, and what are important deal points?How can publishers (and website or blog owners) hire and pay good long-form writers?And much more...Please enjoy!This episode is brought to you by LinkedIn and its job recruitment platform, which offers a smarter system for the hiring process. If you've ever hired anyone (or attempted to), you know finding the right people can be difficult. If you don't have a direct referral from someone you trust, you're left to use job boards that don't offer any real-world networking approach.LinkedIn, as the world's largest professional network -- used by more than 70 percent of the US workforce -- has a built-in ecosystem that allows you to not only search for employees, but also interact with them, their connections, and their former employers and colleagues in a way that closely mimics real-life communication. Visit LinkedIn.com/Tim and receive a $50 credit toward your first job post!This podcast is also brought to you by Peloton, which has become a staple of my daily routine. I picked up this bike after seeing the success of my friend Kevin Rose, and I've been enjoying it more than I ever imagined. Peloton is an indoor cycling bike that brings live studio classes right to your home. No worrying about fitting classes into your busy schedule or making it to a studio with a crazy commute.New classes are added every day, and this includes options led by elite NYC instructors in your own living room. You can even live stream studio classes taught by the world's best instructors, or find your favorite class on demand.Peloton is offering listeners to this show a special offer. Visit onepeloton.com and enter the code TIM at checkout to receive $100 off accessories with your Peloton bike purchase. This is a great way to get in your workouts or an incredible gift. Again, that's onepeloton.com and enter the code TIM.***If you enjoy the podcast, would you please consider leaving a short review on Apple Podcasts/iTunes? It takes less than 60 seconds, and it really makes a difference in helping to convince hard-to-get guests. I also love reading the reviews!For show notes and past guests, please visit tim.blog/podcast.Sign up for Tim’s email newsletter (“5-Bullet Friday”) at tim.blog/friday.For transcripts of episodes, go to tim.blog/transcripts.Interested in sponsoring the podcast? Please fill out the form at tim.blog/sponsor.Discover Tim’s books: tim.blog/books.Follow Tim:Twitter: twitter.com/tferriss Instagram: instagram.com/timferrissFacebook: facebook.com/timferriss YouTube: youtube.com/timferrissPast guests on The Tim Ferriss Show include Jerry Seinfeld, Hugh Jackman, Dr. Jane Goodall, LeBron James, Kevin Hart, Doris Kearns Goodwin, Jamie Foxx, Matthew McConaughey, Esther Perel, Elizabeth Gilbert, Terry Crews, Sia, Yuval Noah Harari, Malcolm Gladwell, Madeleine Albright, Cheryl Strayed, Jim Collins, Mary Karr, Maria Popova, Sam Harris, Michael Phelps, Bob Iger, Edward Norton, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Neil Strauss, Ken Burns, Maria Sharapova, Marc Andreessen, Neil Gaiman, Neil de Grasse Tyson, Jocko Willink, Daniel Ek, Kelly Slater, Dr. Peter Attia, Seth Godin, Howard Marks, Dr. Brené Brown, Eric Schmidt, Michael Lewis, Joe Gebbia, Michael Pollan, Dr. Jordan Peterson, Vince Vaughn, Brian Koppelman, Ramit Sethi, Dax Shepard, Tony Robbins, Jim Dethmer, Dan Harris, Ray Dalio, Naval Ravikant, Vitalik Buterin, Elizabeth Lesser, Amanda Palmer, Katie Haun, Sir Richard Branson, Chuck Palahniuk, Arianna Huffington, Reid Hoffman, Bill Burr, Whitney Cummings, Rick Rubin, Dr. Vivek Murthy, Darren Aronofsky, and many more.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.
Transcript
Discussion (0)
This episode is brought to you by AG1, the daily foundational nutritional supplement that
supports whole body health. I do get asked a lot what I would take if I could only take
one supplement. And the true answer is invariably AG1. It simply covers a ton of bases. I usually
drink it in the mornings and frequently take their travel packs with me on the road. So what is AG1?
AG1 is a science-driven formulation of vitamins, probiotics, and whole food sourced nutrients.
In a single scoop, AG1 gives you support for the brain, gut, and immune system. So take ownership
of your health and try AG1 today. You will get a free one-year supply of vitamin D and five free
AG1 travel packs with your first subscription purchase.
So learn more, check it out. Go to drinkag1.com slash Tim. That's drinkag1, the number one,
drinkag1.com slash Tim. Last time, drinkag1.com slash Tim. Check it out.
This episode is brought to you by Five Bullet Friday, my very own email
newsletter. It's become one of the most popular email newsletters in the world with millions of
subscribers. And it's super, super simple. It does not clog up your inbox. Every Friday,
I send out five bullet points, super short, of the coolest things I've found that week,
which sometimes includes apps, books, documentaries, supplements, gadgets,
new self-experiments, hacks, tricks, and all sorts of weird stuff that I dig up from around the world.
You guys, podcast listeners and book readers, have asked me for something short and action-packed
for a very long time.
Because after all, the podcast, the books, they can be quite long.
And that's why I created Five Bullet Friday.
It's become one of my favorite things I do every week.
It's become one of my favorite things I do every week. It's free. It's always going to be
free. And you can learn more at Tim.blog forward slash Friday. That's Tim.blog forward slash Friday.
I get asked a lot how I meet guests for the podcast, some of the most amazing people I've
ever interacted with. And little known fact, I've met probably 25% of them because they first
subscribed to Five Bullet Friday.
So you'll be in good company.
It's a lot of fun.
Five Bullet Friday is only available if you subscribe via email.
I do not publish the content on the blog or anywhere else.
Also, if I'm doing small in-person meetups, offering early access to startups, beta testing, special deals, or anything else that's very limited, I share it first with Five Bullet Friday subscribers.
So check it out. Tim.blog forward slash Friday. If you listen to this podcast, it's very likely
that you'd dig it a lot and you can, of course, easily subscribe any time. So easy peasy. Again,
that's tim.blog forward slash Friday. And thanks for checking it out. If the spirit moves you.
Hello, boys and girls, this is Tim Ferriss. And welcome to another episode of the Tim Ferriss show. My guest today is Nicholas Thompson on Twitter at NX Thompson. He is the editor in
chief of Wired. Under his leadership, Wired has launched a successful paywall, a Snapchat channel,
and an AMP stories edition, if I'm pronouncing that correctly. I'm not sure if it's AMP or AMP. We'll get back to that.
It has also been nominated for National Magazine Awards in Design and Feature Writing.
Thompson is a contributor for CBS News and regularly appears on CBS This Morning.
He is also a co-founder of The Atavist, which I've had contact with going way back in the day,
a National Magazine Award-winning digital publication.
Prior to joining Wired, Thompson served as editor of NewYorker.com from 2012 to 2017.
Before The New Yorker, Thompson was a senior editor at Wired, where he assigned and edited the feature story The Great Escape,
which was the basis for the Oscar-winning film Argo.
In 2009, his book The Hawk and the Dove, Paul Nitze, George Kennan, and the History of the Cold War
was published to critical acclaim.
In Feb 2018, Thompson co-wrote Wired's cover story, Inside the Two Years That Shook Facebook and the World,
an 11,000-word investigation based on reporting with more than 50 current and former Facebook employees.
Nick, welcome to the show.
Thanks, Tim. That was a nice intro. Thanks for having me here.
My pleasure. And I appreciate you correcting, or at least informing my pronunciation of the
subtitle of your book.
Yeah, Nick is not an easy name to pronounce. My favorite story about it is I was giving a talk about my book in Wisconsin,
and like 10 minutes in, this guy runs out.
And so Nitsa, one of the characters in the book is my grandfather, Paul Nitsa.
This guy runs out.
And at the end, I asked the host, I was like, why did that guy leave?
He looks at me and he said, he thought he was going to hear from Nietzsche's grandson.
Oh, spelling.
In Wisconsin, it was hilarious anyway.
So there are many different questions that I want to ask, and I have many, many in front of me that I will ask.
But I thought I would start with something that I chanced upon when doing homework for this, which I'll lead into with just reading the line.
And it is, he is also an instrumental guitarist
who used to supplement his journalism by playing on subway platforms.
Is that true, that you used to play music to supplement your writing income?
Presumably, I guess.
I think supplement is the wrong word, because I actually made more money.
Yeah, I used to play, when I was a young journalist. So let's say ages 21 to 24. I played
fingerstyle guitar on the platforms in New York. And you could make a good amount of money. You
know, I'd make $20 an hour. You meet people. It's really fun. You learn a lot about the city.
It's good sort of forced practice for multiple hours. You learn a lot about the city. It's good sort of forced practice for multiple hours.
You learn a lot about the trains. I had a great time doing that.
Did you pick up any best practices for busking? I mean, there are many people who play on the platforms.
I'm sure they make different rates. So what were some of the best practices or approaches that you picked up?
I think one of the key things, which is kind of interesting, is to figure out
the style of music you play
and the demographics
you're trying to hit.
So if you're playing
like super familiar stuff,
if you're doing
kind of Beatles covers,
you can go in a hallway, right,
where people will hear you
for two seconds and walk by.
Or you can be on a train platform
and the trains come
every two minutes, right,
because people will just hear
yesterday and give you money.
If you're doing what I was doing,
which is like weird instrumental guitar music that people will only like if they
get a couple of minutes uninterrupted, you've got to find a platform where, you know, there may not
be a ton of foot traffic, but where the trains don't come very often. So for me, the place that
turned out to be the best was the L train platform, um, on sixth Avenue and 14th street. People
know New York to be able to visualize it. And what was good about that is that the L train platform on 6th Avenue and 14th Street. People know New York to be able to
visualize it. And what's good about that is that the L train comes relatively infrequently. It's
one platform with book trains going on either side of it. It's not a split platform. So you
get people who are going both West and East. And then it was kind of like perfect for me
demographically because it's where all the gay guys in Chelsea get off and then we're all kind of the sort of vegan young hipsters are heading to Williamsburg. So I got like a lot
of demographics who are going to like to stop if they see a young guy playing guitar and possibly
give money. So that was, I really spent a lot of time thinking it through and that was the one I
liked. So what you do is you try to get there. You don't want to be there at like 3 o'clock when schools get out
because everybody's like, it's crazy.
People are yelling.
Nobody can hear you.
The kids are jumping.
The kids kind of make fun of you.
But you definitely want to be there during commute time,
and you definitely want to be there at like 9 o'clock at night.
And the rules, at least back when I was doing it, a lot are once you get a spot,
you keep that spot.
So it's until you either get bored or have to pee that you have it.
So you try to calm right at like 3.30 and then hold it until 10 if you can.
And did you ever contemplate going the Beatles route, playing more popular music so that you could get money for a few seconds of attention?
Or did you choose your
your musical selection for other reasons besides the twenty dollars an hour you know it would be
the thing is that i'm not good at beatles covers right and like i i have like a limited i have a
very i'm very strange musician i have a limited skill set. I'm very good at writing my own multi-tunel acoustic
instrumental guitar songs. I'm really bad at reading music and playing other stuff,
so I never had that choice. But it would be an interesting choice. If you have the capacity to
do both, which do you choose? Do you choose the one that gets you more money and is a little less
emotionally fulfilling? It's like a typical choice we have in a thousand moments in life.
Fortunately, I didn't have to do that in this particular subway music stage of my career.
Why did you choose writing full-time instead of music full-time?
Seems like both paths are presumably difficult, right?
I mean, you are a creator in both paths.
I don't know if that's a bad question, but it just comes to mind.
It's like you seem very talented.
No, it's a super good question.
You know, and I think that what was interesting is that they were kind of competitive with me, right? And so the
things that go into how much time do you prioritize playing music? How much time do you prioritize
being a journalist? Include factors like how much do you make per hour? But also as time goes by,
how do you expect your life and ambitions to grow? And the thing about being a musician is that I kind of, I could see the end point, right?
I didn't think I was going to become a transcendentally good musician.
I didn't see a career where I would like change the way music was made or, you know, create
a new sound.
Like I didn't, I didn't think that even if I devoted myself to it completely for 10 years,
I'd ever reach that high point.
So I could kind of see the max that I would get to,
whereas in journalism, the max was quite a bit higher.
So as the earnings began to equal out,
as I began to earn more as a journalist,
I started to gravitate more towards that.
So it was a combination of having some success as a journalist
and then also thinking through, like, what would a life as a musician be like versus what would life as a journalist be like
for somebody with my skills and as i said earlier my skills as a musician are limited right i could
i could do well at one thing but i didn't think i was gonna really make a life work that way
do you recall any particular moments whether it could be at any point in your life really
where you thought to yourself this writing writing thing, or this editing thing, something related to long form text is something
that I could really be excellent at, or this, this is something that I think I could make a
good living doing because I'm, I can be exceptional at this. Was there a moment where you had that
thought that would sort of
compel you to pursue that, say, instead of the music? Yeah. You know, the funny thing is that
in my mind, through those foundational years, let's say from when, from the time I graduated
college to the time I completely committed to it committed to be a journalist, which was 29, it wasn't always music versus journalism.
In those early years, it was music versus journalism and other things, and then it was journalism versus other things.
When I finished college, I thought I was going to be sort of an environmental activist or I might go into politics.
I got kind of put in track into journalism in kind of a slightly odd way, which we can get into.
So it was really only at about 29 when I got hired by Wired and started to do a good job editing stories. And when I started writing my book about Nixon and Kennan,
I began to feel really confident about it as a career choice.
You said, I think you just said,
tracked into journalism in an odd way.
Sorry, I should have known you were going to come up with that.
So I can't pick that up, or I can't not pick that up, rather.
Let's jump into that.
It's super bizarre.
So when I was in college, I was focused very much on being a good college student and succeeding at college and going into student government and getting good grades.
But I was, to a degree that's strange when I look back, did not think at all about what would happen.
I went to Stanford.
I had a graduate school fellowship.
I did well in college, but I prepared for life post-college extraordinarily badly. Um, and so I graduate and then maybe the fall after I graduate where I'm
playing guitar, um, I get, I meet somebody at a party and sort of get surprisingly hired as an
associate producer at 60 minutes, which is a great job. And so I moved to New York I show up at CBS
or 60 Minutes is
and within an hour I'm fired
I'm literally fired
within an hour you're fired?
within an hour
who are you?
what was the offense?
the offense was
being hired in a position sort of beyond my stature
it was very strange and in retrospect
it's one of those things
where I was treated kind of awfully,
but I didn't understand it.
I was 22.
So I go, I show up, I'm still a member,
and this guy's name is Phil Schafer.
He's like, who are you?
I'm like, I'm the new associate producer.
I'm working under Steve Groff.
He's like, what have you done in television before?
I was like, nothing.
He's like, well, what have you done professionally before?
I was like, nothing.
I just graduated.
And he's like, and we hired you as an associate producer. I was like, yeah, you know, I did these interviews, and I've done these tests. He's like, well, what have you done professionally before? I was like, nothing. I just graduated. And he's like, and we hired you as an associate producer.
I was like, yeah, you know, I did these interviews and I've done these tests.
He's like, you're fired.
And they literally took me out of the building.
Wow.
So it gets worse.
So that's, I think, December of 1997.
I graduated from college in June of 1997.
That's December of 1997.
So I'm like, huh, what am I going to do now?
One of my best friends from college was starting graduate school in the fall,
and he was about to leave for Africa.
And so I was like, I'm coming with you.
So I go and I get my vaccinations, and within two weeks I'm on a plane.
And then I get kidnapped immediately upon landing in Africa.
I fly to Paris and Spain, and I take a boat to the Tangiers.
And I pull out my guitar at a subway platform in Tangiers.
I'm alone at this point.
It's northern Morocco.
A guy comes up to me.
He's like, hey, my family plays music.
You want to come home with me?
I'm like, great.
Yeah, sure.
Why not?
I've got a day here before I'm supposed to be my friend. And it turns out that he's like,
he's a drug dealer. He locks me in this room and he has these cockamamie plans where he wants me
to distribute his drugs around America. He makes me eat a fish head. It's all very peculiar.
But it's definitely not what, it's definitely not come home to my family and play guitar.
And so I've come out to
a pretty rocky start in africa and eventually he dumps me and says enough of this guy like you
i'm not getting what i want out of you and just like dumps me and lets me make my way to the
train station um but the funny thing about that hold on let me pause for a second so
was he like this guy is definitely not equipped to be a proper drug dealer for me in the united
states i mean what was the kind of the straw that broke the camel's back where he's just like, enough of you.
I'm letting you go.
I mean, did you have an approach?
I mean, how did you get out of that?
I was very confused.
I think what happened was, you know, I don't think he had like begun that day saying, I'm going to kidnap an American.
I think it was more like he saw me sitting there was like, let's see what happens if I take this guy.
And then I go there, and he goes through all my stuff looking for money, and he finds that I've only got, I think it was $60 in cash.
And there's no traveler's checks.
And fortunately, I had a backpack that had like smuggling sections built into it.
And so my passport
and like the valuable stuff were in there.
And so I think he went through all my stuff
and decided that I was like an itinerant traveler
who was useless.
I don't know what answers I gave him
about being the drug mule for him
that turned him off,
but it didn't work out. It was a poor job application,
and the outcome was the one I wanted. So he dumped me and got rid of me.
And then the great thing is that I then had a story, and so I turned that experience
and some other experiences I had in Africa. I then spent several months traveling with my friend and some other friends.
I turned those into an essay for the Washington Post.
So suddenly I had journalistic clips.
And so kind of inadvertently, having been fired from journalism,
I used the experience that followed to get clips.
And then I came back.
I played guitar.
And then those clips led to a job as the editor of the Washington Monthly, which was a place that hired sort of young, ambitious people into roles with low paying roles, but high responsibility where you learn a lot. So that was how I got going in journalism. It was very bizarre. How did you pitch the Washington Post, or why did you end up...
Was it a cold query or just a cold email to one of the editors who you found on the masthead?
Or how did you go about getting this published?
I think that... I think it was a cold query.
I know that I had talked to some journalists before I left.
I remember talking to somebody from the Boston Globe, I grew up in Boston, about, you know, if interesting things happened to me, would it be possible to write stories from locations in Africa?
And so I had gotten some advice.
But I think, I think, I think I have wrote If you could just get kidnapped, it would make really good material.
I mean, in retrospect, in fact, that was something my friend said to me. He was like, well, you
know, to have that experience and only lose $60, it's kind of worth it. I remember him
saying that. I was like so shaken by the whole thing.
I was like, oh, you jerk.
But he was totally right.
It turned out to be a really interesting experience
for a mere $60.
I saw this woman in New York City at one point
walking around with a t-shirt,
a crop top that said,
bad decisions make good stories.
And I didn't quite know how to take the shirt
in the context of her walking around with it. but, uh, certainly true for standup comedians. And it would seem true
for, uh, people in Northern Africa considering perhaps a path in journalism. Uh, let's jump
forward and I'm sure this is going to be very non-linear and how we bounce around. But one of the things that I mentioned in the intro was this piece, the great escape that later
was turned into Argo. And when I was doing some writing on this, uh, a line that jumped out at
me that I wanted to dig into was at wired, at least at the time, every pitch was
graded on a scale of one to six by everyone on staff. And there's a meeting where these story
ideas are pitched and, or then presented rather in reverse order of their scores, along with their
standard deviations, which is fantastic. But could you sort of walk us through that pitch
grading process and oh my god tell us the story of the great escape because my understanding is
it wasn't a uh it wasn't an immediate point to center field hit home run type of story but i'm
most curious in the grading process and how you guys did that.
So Wired was run by this guy named Chris Anderson, who had been a writer at The Economist and
just a really high IQ Silicon Valley type and a very mathematical way of looking at
the world. And so this efficiency mechanism he brought into the
pitch process was to run it like sort of a false democracy under a dictatorship. So the final
decision would be made entirely by Chris, whether a story was assigned or not. But when you wrote a
pitch, it would be sent to everybody on staff and everybody would vote on it and grade it.
And the theory was, it was kind of a wisdom
of crowds theory, that if you got everybody's vote, you could immediately tell what was great
and what was bad. And that, I think he genuinely believed that one of the things that happens in
meetings is that you spend a lot of time discussing stuff that 95% of the room hates,
but since only a couple people talk, you can't quite
determine that quickly.
And so this is a way of determining what is the stuff that 95% of the room loves and 95%
of the room hates immediately, which is a super interesting thing, right?
It's like theoretically a great thing to do.
The problem with that is that it can be really demoralizing when your pitches do badly.
It's okay to get your pitch rejected by the editor-in-chief,
but to have your pitch graded badly by all your colleagues is kind of emotionally rough.
So for The Great Escape, I remember this really well.
It was writer Joshua Behrman, who's done great stuff for this American life.
He's written all kinds of wonderful essays.
He was quite a bit younger then.
I remember he sent me a bunch of pitches.
I can't remember what the whole packet was.
Maybe he sent me three ideas.
But one was, hey, I'm not the spy.
He's got the story of a crazy escape from Iran.
And then another one I remember on the same email was, I think Stalin tried to create a half-man, half-ape army.
And so, like, the two things were together. Like, should we investigate Stalin's half-man, half-ape army. And so, like, the two things were together.
Like, should we investigate Stalin's half-man, half-ape army?
Or should we investigate, like, this escape from Iran?
And so through whatever process of conversations
between editor and writer Joshua,
I decided to pursue the escape from Iran.
And I pitched it at the meeting.
And I knew it was going to do badly, right?
Because it wasn't a wired story, right?
It's like from the 1970s.
It's not about, you know, how Amazon and artificial intelligence are shaking.
It just wasn't core wired.
And everybody voted it really badly, right?
The scores were one to six.
It probably got a score of like two something.
On the other hand, Bob Cohn, who was the executive editor,
the number two person there,
I remember at the pitch meeting
just being like,
it's not wired,
but I love it,
let's do it.
And so he just sort of
muscled it through.
So again,
it was democracy
under a dictatorship
and the dictators
wanted to do the story
because it was such a cool,
so manifestly,
you know,
riveting narrative.
So we ended up assigning it.
Josh wrote it,
did a great job,
published it, and then great job, um,
published it.
And then Hollywood took an interest.
So a few followups,
what makes a good pitch?
So when Josh sent you this pitch,
let's just assume for the time being that it was,
it was a good set of pitches.
We can talk about,
this is going to sound funny to people who don't have the background,
but we could talk more about Stalin anyway.
But we'll leave that alone for now.
The half-man, half-ape army.
I mean, it's possible there was a real missed opportunity.
We would have found out there was a half-man, half-ape army, which would be an amazing story.
Well, not only that, but you have, correct me if I'm wrong, it's from the internet, so who knows, but a long friendship with Stalin's daughter.
Is that right?
Yeah, that is very true.
Happy to talk about that.
Yes, Svetlana and I were friends for many, many years.
Okay.
So putting aside the half-man, half-ape army of Stalin, question mark,
what makes a good pitch?
If a writer is pitching someone like you,
what does a good pitch look like?
What are the ingredients?
What are common mistakes that make something a bad pitch?
However you want to kind of answer that for folks.
Yep.
So a couple of elements that I appreciate are when the writer gives options, right?
So what Josh had done in that email is he had sent, you know, three ideas, which I think
is really great, right?
And it's useful to be able to pick and it gives you a sense of the person's range of
mind.
Another element that's very useful is the element of the pitch
that answers the question, why am I the person to do this?
So in Josh's pitch, the reason he was the person to do it
is that he had, well, found something that no one had known before,
and two, had unique access to the key character, right?
Had access to the spy, Tony Mendez, I think that was his name.
So that's another important element. And then the third is understanding what the magazine is trying
to do in the section you're trying to write for. So what Wired was trying to do in its feature
well then as now was tell really important stories about how technology is changing the world,
but also tell things that are cinematic and fun to read and that are part of the wired world.
So this story, The Great Escape, wasn't going to change the way you think about tech,
but it had characters, right?
It had emotional resonance.
It had, like there was a movie you could play in your mind, as you met Affleck later, you know, show without question.
And that's often a question I'll ask for the story.
So how will the reader be able to visualize it? How will they be emotionally attached to it? Why will they care
about the characters you introduce at the beginning, what happens to them at the end?
So a good pitch is something where you're writing it in a way that makes the editor convinced that
you'll be able to write well. It shows why you have special knowledge or special insight or
special access. It shows why the story is new and that, you know, is structured so that the pitch clearly fits the aims and goals of the magazine or publication you're writing for.
Do the writers also indicate, or is it just assumed, a given length or a lead time for completion?
Is any of that included in that initial pitch or does that come later?
Or is it just...
That probably comes later. If it's somebody who I've worked with specifically,
they may say, hey, I'd like to do this this month, or I want to fit it into my calendar,
or I'm planning to go to location TK in June, I could do it then.
But normally it's more like this is a story I'd like to do in the next reasonable time frame.
So I just want to back up for a second. For people who don't know what TK means,
TK, as I understand it, means to come, but it's spelled TK so that you can find it very easily when you search for it.
That's my understanding, at least.
That sounds right to me.
Yes, because very few words in the English language have T and K.
So you can do a control F and find the things that you need to spot really quickly. wondering why tk uh you know a friend of mine neil strauss uh will turn off his wi-fi when he writes
and not interrupt it for fact checking and certain types of research and just drop tk
in throughout the piece and then do that as a batching process later just for people yeah
so for people who are wondering about that uh he also uses an app called freedom to block
the internet so that he can't disrupt himself.
That's a good thing to do.
So now you just described Chris Anderson's process, which fits his personality.
And I've met Chris before, a very smart guy.
What is your process?
How does your story pitch process differ?
It's pretty similar, actually.
I mean, we've gotten rid of the scores and the standard deviations. I thought that probably introduced a little bit too much stress
and unnecessary anxiety for people. But there is value to it, I can see. So what we do is a similar
process. So the writer will work with an editor and they'll come up with a pitch. We try to make
sure that they're under a page just to respect everybody's time and because
constraints lead to better work in general. So people send in a one-page pitch. We sit around
in a room. Lots of people are invited. Editors will be assigned in the stories, kind of sit
around the main table. The story comes up and we talk about it. We talk about what are the
unanswered questions. Will the writer be able. We talk about what are the unanswered questions?
Will the writer be able to do that? What are common unanswered questions? Sorry to interrupt.
Sure. Like a lot of pitches will, they'll be missing that element of how, of what the scenes
will actually be, right? And who, how the characters will develop, right? It's like,
here's a big idea. Here's an important thing that happened and I'm going to write 5,000 words about
it. And there's almost no thing that is big or important enough that you can write 5,000 words
about it if you don't have like specific scenes and visual moments where you can pull a person in.
And again, this is for wired features, right? And we run like web stories. We have a much
more informal process. We run short things in front of a book where there's a more informal process, but, you know,
we only run four features a month, so 48 of them a year. So we do discuss them all and whether,
you know, they'll be able to pull it off and how will the chronology work? And there's a lot of
discussions about the writers because an incredibly talented magazine feature writer, sort of the
subset of ideas they could write about
is a lot larger than somebody with more limited skills
and experience in this particular craft.
So we'll talk about, okay, well, what have you read by this person?
Oh, I remember reading that story.
I didn't think it totally worked, or I read that story.
It did work quite well.
So that's how it works.
We all talk about it, and then afterwards,
I'll speak with the executive editor
and a couple of other editors,
and we'll make a decision.
Red light,
green light,
red light,
green light.
So we're going to talk about out of this,
the startup that I mentioned,
but I'm going to tie,
I'm going to tie it in here because my understanding is that you've had a
decent amount of exposure to,
to feature pieces being optioned
for film and argo or rather the great escape which then became argo's is one such example
a lot of a lot of writers dream of having things optioned it's questions, I suppose, are A, is it a dream worth having?
Or is it just almost uniformly disappointing
or somewhere in between?
And then B,
if you were having something optioned of yours,
what are the deal points
or the deal structures
that you would pay attention to?
Oh, that's interesting.
Okay, so, yeah.
Wired, I think very few stories from Wired were optioned before 2007,
and then Wired started getting a reputation as a place where stories were optioned
and has had a good amount of success since then.
The Atavist, which we started in 2009, has had success from the get
go. I mean, it's something like 25% of the stories that have run in The Atavist have been
optioned to Hollywood, which is a crazy, crazy percentage. Maybe it's 30%. And so is it a dream
worth having? Yes, it is a dream worth having. the most important thing is having a good agent who has actually sold films before. Not like a lot of writers, um, don't know the right agents and having the right
agent just is utterly transformative. It takes you from, you know, almost no chance to a very
good chance. Um, so having an agent who has actually had success selling magazine stories
in Hollywood before is really important.
And so what we did at The Atomist is we just started out with an agent who had had a lot of success,
the same guy that my co-founder, Evan Ratliff, who's been a writer for Wired, and that I had used at Wired.
And so we just brought him in with The Atomist from the get-go, or from fairly early on.
And then when you're looking at the deal points,
what you want is there's a whole series of stages along the way where you get different payouts.
You get an initial amount of money, and then you get certain renewals,
and then if the script is written, and then if the movie is made.
And so what you want are you want to make sure that high-quality people
are sort of being added at each step so that it's more likely to move
from A to B to C to D. Um, and that you, um, you don't kind of fall for the, um, the dream where it's
like, all right, we'll give you a thousand dollars now, but a million dollars if we make it. Um,
and there's almost no chance we'll make it right. You want to make sure that you get paid
real money upfront because even a really good script with really good people attached to it has a fairly low percentage of chance of getting through. Are there any other clauses that are particularly important? And I've never, I've had for the first book that I did, I've had folks approach me about film adaptation.
But it seemed like, at least in the structures that were being offered, it was very much a lockup period with almost no monetary compensation, with no guarantee that they would actually do
anything with it in the sense that the reversion of rights clause became really important to
consider much like if you're a product developer or an inventor and you develop something that you
want to license to a larger company, there's nothing compelling them to spend marketing
dollars on it or to develop it or push it in less,
or I should say, you increase the likelihood of that if you have that dictated in the terms of
the contract and then some reversion of rights clause, right? So I suppose what I'm wondering
is how much time in your mind do you allow for a story to float out there in the ether of say Hollywood before you can,
you,
you pull it back in some fashion or,
or allow it to take a different path potentially because I,
I know friends who are writers who've had stuff just float around and so
and so is attached,
but Oh no,
they're not attached because they're busy.
And then when this person's attached,
no,
they're not because they had a conflict and And it just goes on and on and on
for years and years and years.
Is there any ways that you've found
to mitigate against that in any way?
Yeah, so I'm not, you know,
this is not my area of top expertise,
but a couple of things.
One, I think that the value of before you publish
and before you put it up for auction of locking a few things down is really important.
Making sure you have the life rights to the central character that you've negotiated.
You know, in the example in the Argo story, it was really important that Josh had locked up rights to Tony Mendes' story so that after the story ran, it wasn't like somebody else could do the same
story, but without Josh attached to it because Josh and Tony came as a package. And so they
had negotiated a deal together. And so that's a really important thing to make sure that you have
as much as you can, the rights to that particular story buttoned up because it gives you just much
more leverage if potential bidders aren't like, you know, I can probably do this without Nick or I can probably do this
without buying the rights to Nick's story because it's public domain. So talking to an agent and
working through that, I think is really important. And then just knowing that, you know, there's no
part of the world where people kind of tell more baloney stories
about how this is,
about the stars that are coming in Hollywood.
Like there's so many,
oh yes, you know,
we'll attach Francis Ford Coppola, right?
We'll do this, we'll do that.
And they're not lying.
It's just never true, right?
So you really need to have it written down.
And so I think where people get caught
is they sort of fall for that.
And what you need to do is you need to have an agent, you need to have an auction,
you need to have a formal process, you need to get more than one person excited,
and you have two people bidding, then you have much more leverage on making sure that you get terms
where you get either a decent amount of money or a pretty good guarantee that it will be made.
You know, what we did at The Atavist is we ultimately set up a first look deal,
meaning we work with a Hollywood studio that pays us an annual guarantee every year to be able to read the stories before everybody else and to have the opportunity to bid on them.
And so that was a way of getting guaranteed income, making sure that somebody was interested and kind of locking the process in a way that worked for us.
That's great. Yeah, that's very smart. I didn't realize that. For people who are wondering, agent, agent, agent, I keep on hearing agent.
How do I get an agent?
How do I figure out who the agents are?
I'd love to hear your thoughts.
A very good starting place is to, in my experience, sign up for IMDb Pro and look at the credits of different films that you've enjoyed, uh, or perhaps screenplays,
uh, that, uh, that you might be interested in and try to trace back the roots of that way.
IMDB then provides say contact information for different actors, directors, and so on.
And you'll start to see certain names that pop up a lot, like William Morris Endeavor, WME, CAA, Created Arts Agency, UTA, and so on. But would you
have any other recommendations for people who want to educate themselves about that
side of the business, per se?
My only other recommendation would be to find friends and friends of friends who have actually
had success and say, who sold it?
And I do this much more in the book publishing world where a higher percentage of my friends have sold books where, you know, you, I know you sold a book.
What agent did you use and would you recommend him or her?
And then if you've got five people who sold books, you ask them all, a couple of names come up and you go meet with them, see who you click with, who you get a good bond with. I mean, the best possible agent is somebody who has a track record and who actually likes you and cares about you.
And sometimes those things are kind of like inversely related because they have a track record.
They have so many clients, they're not going to care about you.
So you just got to figure out how to find somebody who's both good and responsive. responsive uh so i want to segue to the new yorker for probably more than a few minutes
since i find the new yorker fascinating as i do wired but in a i think it was a 2015 interview
you'd said and again fact fact correct as needed but the most encouraging thing we found is that the
stories were prouder of the stories we put more effort into attract more readers so the
i'd love to talk about what that means if you could elaborate on that because as someone who
personally speaking for myself enjoys long form content and make some effort to resist the
temptation to listicle myself to death in hopes of eyeballs and clicks what what what did that mean
and how did you foster that at the magazine that's that was like one of the most important
kind of existential both debates and findings at The New Yorker.
I started at The New Yorker on the print side when the magazine hadn't put a lot of effort into having an ambitious daily website.
The website at The New Yorker mostly just published the print stories.
Some of them were behind a paywall, and some of them were not. And then as part of this process where David Remnick became much more excited about daily
journalism and the importance of having a website, eventually I was moved over to run
the website, work with a bunch of people.
And so the initial challenge was, can you publish daily content?
Because the magazine is put together by so many people with so much experience,
and the website was this kind of startup within the organization
where you have to be a lot scrappier.
You're paying people.
A New Yorker writer will get several dollars a word to write 5,000 words,
so you're looking at $15,000 a story.
And on the website, you're looking at $200 a story.
So can you produce content for that $200 that won't sort of detract from the other stuff?
And that's a challenge, right?
And you have to figure out what is the DNA of the worker.
How long were those stories?
I'm sorry to interrupt.
The online?
Maybe 800 words, you know, 1,000 words.
I mean, that was actually an interesting conversation.
Like, if you make 300 words, you know, will it actually detract more than if you make it 800 words?
Should you make the web stories more like the long print stories or less like the long print stories?
And so there's a lot of back and forth.
This is kind of the central debate in my mind for several years, right?
How do you make daily web content that feels of a piece with the New Yorker magazine. It's been around for 85
years and has such an incredible history and such great stories. And so back to the initial question,
over time, we found that what got the most readership that worked the best in every sense
were smart pieces of analysis of what was happening right now, ideally written by the same people who wrote for the magazine.
And they would spend far less time per word on their web posts
than they would for the magazine stories, but they would feel related.
They'd feel of a piece.
If Philip Gurevich wrote a web piece about a terror attack that had just happened,
it would feel enough like a Philip Gurevich magazine feature,
and the readers would appreciate it.
And so ultimately,
our strategy became getting the staff writers to write regular posts, hiring people who could write very quickly, could write at the cadence of the web, but who had similar prose styles to the New
Yorker staff writers. Moving, John Cassidy, for example, who was a magazine staff writer,
writes a column every day for the website, which is great, really valuable to know that every day you would have a terrific column
by this super smart, well-respected guy.
Same with Amy Davidson, who had been a senior editor.
So bringing over people, bringing in new people, getting some of the staff writers, and what
we found was that the stuff people liked was the best stuff we published, and that was
really heartening.
People didn't want to go to Newyorker.com to read,
to sort of click through sensationalized slideshows.
They wanted to come to New Yorker to read smart, interesting things.
And that was great because when your business incentives align with your sort of journalistic incentives,
you're in a much happier place than if the two are sort of run perpendicular to each other.
So I would love to get your help encouraging people to do more long form. And by people, I mean publishers to foster that type of kind of patient editorial in some cases.
And so I'm going to make this really personal. I've thought a lot about hiring writers to do longer form pieces for
my blog, for instance, which does not have the draw or cache of the New Yorker, certainly,
or Wired, but nonetheless, decent amount of traffic. I hand a couple million people,
a couple million uniques per month. And I think what struck me when i was trying to think through this as someone who loves
long form is that i didn't know the process it's harder it's more of a black box than trying to
put together a list of 12 bullets or a slideshow which i'm not going to say it's mindless, but it really doesn't require a lot of planning. So if for instance, I wanted to, uh, I had ideas for certain pieces and wanted to
invite people who had ideas for pieces who were qualified writers to do, let's just call it three
to 10,000 word pieces, right? So very broad spectrum. What is the process then for figuring out
how much I should pay someone in a context like that?
Because you noted yourself,
there's kind of a very wide,
there's a very wide spectrum.
I think I just used that twice in like three sentences.
Shame on me.
But nonetheless, in terms of payment per word, I don't even know how that works because I've never done it. But
how would you think about going about doing something like this? If I wanted to do an
experiment of like three to five pieces with different writers and see how it goes,
how would you suggest I even think about this? You have so much experience and I have
none because everything on the blog with a few rare exceptions have been my own stuff.
Yeah, that's a really interesting question.
It's kind of like what we went through at the Atomist.
So here are a couple ways to think through it.
So first you could say, all right, well, how much advertising revenue will I get?
And so you can do the math, right?
So let's say you would get 50,000 people might read the story.
That's a lot, but through your social promotion and through general traffic to the site.
So 50,000 people will read the story.
You'll be able to sell your ads at whatever CPM you sell.
Let's say $15 per 1,000 visitors.
And you'll be able to show four ads per person, you know,
one quarter of the people will be turning on ad blockers. So we'll say three, um, and, um,
how much revenue you generate in total, right? And so you go through those calculations, right?
You figure out what is your shelter rate on the advertising, what is your CPM of the rates. And the problem is when you do that, if you add those numbers up, you're going to end up with generating for your story that has a couple of ads viewed per person.
And because people, you're going to end up generating like $2,000 in total revenue for the story.
The numbers are just not good. And so if you have an advertising-supported, long-form journalism shop,
it's really hard to pay for the writer, the editor, the rights to the art, and sort of the bandwidth.
It's a really hard thing to justify.
And that's something we thought through a lot at The New Yorker and at Wired and at The Atomist.
Okay, so how do you make the economics work?
If you're only going to generate, you know, sometimes just a couple hundred dollars
in advertised revenue, like what can you do?
Well, at the New Yorker and Wired,
there's a second revenue stream, which is subscriptions, right?
And so you generate way more money from subscriptions
on these long-form stories than you do from advertised.
So suddenly the amount of total amount of revenue
generated by a long story is much higher, right?
So suddenly you're generating, you know,
$4,000 for a story or $5,000 for a
story or whatever it is, and you can justify paying higher rates. The third way of making
money is like find another thing. So at the Adventist, it was Hollywood, right? Where we
could end up, we would pay writers. I think we would pay them, well, we had different models,
but you end up being able to pay them much better rates because you know,
if they agree that they will give you 50% of the option price,
if they sell it to Hollywood.
So we would bake that into our contracts.
Like,
you know,
either we can pay you $2,000 for this story and you can keep all the rights,
the Hollywood rights,
or we can pay you $10,000 and give us 50% of the Hollywood money.
And then the writer generally would choose
the second option to get the higher guaranteed payment so they can justify spending all the time
on it. So with you, you might want to think through something like that or think through
whether there's another revenue stream you can attach to, whether it's being part of events or
something like that, or find a specific sponsor for a kind of story. But that's how I would
think through the economics of how to support it. But again, the core problem and the reason why it's really hard for publications to
do long form is that it takes a writer two months to write a story that will get 50,000 readers.
And if you have that writer putting out listicles, they'll be able to generate three of them a day,
each of which will get 25,000 readers. And it's sort of the bang for the buck equation unless you change the economics somehow by having
subscriptions or movie deals or something else all the economic incentives push people towards
short stuff yeah i'm i'm uh i'm in a somewhat uh odd position maybe in the sense that i don't i
don't have advertising i don't have memberships.
I, there's a possibility I could do something with Hollywood optioning. There are just stories
that I would love to have told and characters I know who are just endlessly to me, at least
fascinating who I don't have. I don't have current bandwidth, maybe even the capability to do justice in a really long form piece.
And I would love to just,
I want to just see it in the world and pay them to do that.
Probably reserve any option,
right?
For film or anything like that.
In the case that I'm paying them,
how would you,
how might you determine how to pay them in a scenario like that?
Is there,
I mean,
if you're prepared to lose, if you're prepared to lose,
if you're prepared to lose money on it,
then you can get prepared to lose money,
but not like hemorrhage out the face,
if that makes sense.
Right.
Like I'm,
I want to pay a fair journalism.
So you won't hemorrhage out the face.
I mean,
if you pay people $2 a word,
you'll get like all the best writers in America will be thrilled to write for you.
You pay them a buck 50 a word.
There'll be,
you know,
you'll get a slightly smaller pool.
You pay a buck,
people will be like, so, um, yeah. So your, your range will be somewhere
between a dollar and $2 a word. Cool. You know, if you're Michael Lewis, you'll ask for substantially
more, but for like really terrific writers, um, they will be happy with those rates.
Cool. Amazing. Well, all right. Well, I'm going to publicly say just for
any writers who are listening, I will pay you $2 a word, uh, given the ideas that I have. So,
uh, yeah, just, and I mean, that may change, but for the first few pieces, I want to do some,
some really, there's some things that I've been thinking about and, uh, they've been eating up
like the Ram in my, the back of my mind for probably a year or two. And I think there are people who are better qualified to tell some of these stories.
So, cool.
That's great.
I love that you do that.
That's amazing.
So, cool.
Yeah.
Productive podcast.
Productive podcast.
Cool.
So, I'll make this, well, I guess it is called the Tim Ferriss Show, so I shouldn't feel
badly about being so self-indulgent, but let me move on. Also at the New Yorker, and this was in Politico.
This is an interview.
So this was, I suppose, when you were senior editor.
And it said you'd been responsible for shaping the 10,000-word raw copy filed by writers like, and it went on with this amazing list of writers.
How did you do what you did as an editor? How does one edit these incredible
writers who have 10,000 word pieces? Like when you read the first, I suppose, first of all,
do you get a effectively finished piece? Do they send you a first draft that is rough?
How do these writers work with you?
Or did they work with you?
Yeah. So it totally varies, right? So the great thing about The New Yorker is that you,
it's all staff writer driven. It may be a unique publication in America in that kind of 90% of the content is written by 50 people. And so you show up and there, whatever there are, six senior editors, that means that eight people work with you. And so your life is about those eight people. And so you show up and they're, whatever there are, six senior editors. That
means that eight people work with you. And so your life is about those eight people.
So making sure that they have the right ideas, they're all working all the time,
that you're helping them maximize their talents, their ambitions, and helping them find stories.
And so I worked with a group of writers. And with all of them, there were some things that
I would do the same and some things that I would do differently. So first, whenever they file the draft, I would immediately
write back and say that I've got it because even if they're the most talented writer in the world,
everybody is slightly insecure and wants to know that their story has been received by the editor.
So I've got it. Second thing is I would read it like right then, but I wouldn't, um, delay,
right? Cause I just procrastination is the enemy of good editing.
You should just start and do it, right?
And so if you get the draft while you're in the middle of something else important,
like editing another draft, of course you wait for an hour.
But really you should, you know, within the first, you know,
six hours of getting a draft from the writer, you should have read the draft.
And so then you read the draft, and then you start thinking through.
And usually the first step would be going through and sending them back a memo saying,
hey, this is good.
These are the things I like, but here are the big structural issues.
And actually giving them specific guidance.
And my goal was always to make it a memo that I wouldn't have to kind of amend.
Like you want to write and say, I haven't really figured this out,
but I kind of think you might want to do this. I'll tell you more tomorrow. No, you want to,
you want to give them, give them actual advice and things they can work with. And if they disagree,
they can have a conversation. But I would write a memo saying, hey, this piece is
strong. I really like this, but I, you know, I don't think you hit this core issue. I think that
the chronology is broken in these four ways. I think you overuse this. And I don't think you hit this core issue. I think that the chronology is broken in
these four ways. I think you overuse this, and I really think you need more reporting on that.
And so for every writer, that's kind of the first step, which is, here's what I think is wrong with
the piece. And you adjust that based on the amount of time you have allotted. If it's like a political
piece that has to run next week, you try not to, if they're only going to be able to jump over
somebody that's four feet high because of the time available, you try not to set up a barrier
that's six feet high. So that's the first step. Then after that, it starts to really vary depending
on the writers. So each edit, you go through a process from sort of wide aperture, big comments
to very narrow focusing on specific sentences at the very end.
And the process by which you go through that is different for different writers.
So I worked with Califasani, one of the greatest prose stylists I've ever worked with.
And I would never adjust a sentence of his with my own prose. I would never say, why don't you write it this way?
I would just say, I don't think this works, please rewrite it.
Or, you know, please do this, not redoing it. I would never, I never redo it myself,
but it worked with a lot of other writers, um, who I would be much more likely to say,
yeah, maybe you should write it this way. Maybe you should do this way. Or even some writers
where I would go in and rewrite sections with some writers. Um, I remember I worked with Ryan
Lizard, um, and you know, he would always be under this crazy deadline.
You have to write the leading from behind story and have to run on Thursday.
So we would literally be in Google Docs where I would be rewriting the beginning of the piece while he would be writing the end of the piece.
We would spend our whole weekend with him sort of filing down the story and me chasing him as an editor,
and then him sort of cycling back up and going through my edits, that's just sort of looping through the piece with me trailing behind
him. So there were different processes with different people, but that's kind of a guideline
to how it worked. But I think I can go into much more specifics on that, because it's one of the
things I absolutely loved. Do you become a good writer first and then a good editor? Do you have to, or can you do it the other way around?
For people who want to develop an eye for editing, I suppose, which is also very, very closely related to rewriting.
Do you have any recommendations? or classes or writers you would pay attention to perhaps to people who are listening who say you
know what i really want to develop a keener eye as a writer slash editor yeah so a couple of things
that i think are useful are um well for okay first so how to be like get a better sense of style and
structure so one of the things that i think was really important to me is that I found some writers I
really loved, and I just read their stuff
out loud. That sort of forces
a level of concentration and attention to prose. I remember
I'd go through the pieces of this writer
Catherine Boo, who worked for the New Yorker, I thought was
maybe the best
stylist around, and I would just read her pieces
out loud. What was the name again?
Catherine Boo. How do you spell
Boo?
B-O-O. Oh, there we go. And she wrote a lot of pieces about poverty. Her last book was about
India. She doesn't write a ton, but what she writes was extraordinary. But you could also do
it with, you know, Califasene, or you could go back and do it, you know, with John McPhee,
or you could go and do it with Rachel Levine, or whoever your, you know, favorite,
your favorite writer or
stylist is, or even just a piece that you loved. Um, you know, we've had all kinds of features in
wire that are super interesting to read if you read them out loud. So, um, find a writer you
love for whatever publication and study them, right. And think about what exactly are they
doing? I also, um, you know, most of my
training in this was done as an editor, but you could also do it as a reader, which is to map a
story. So I will often, on a whiteboard when I'm working with a writer, but you could also just do
it as an exercise to the finished piece, like look at the structure of the piece, right? So
how exactly does it work?
Where is information presented?
Where are characters presented?
So I'll use this example because it's sitting right here on my desk,
my 11,000-word story about Mark Zuckerberg that you mentioned at the intro.
It has a very specific structure that may not be the right structure or may not be the ideal structure, but it is a very deliberate structure.
So the way the story works is several characters are introduced, and the story, the first section of the story is chronological
from roughly February of 2016 to, I think it's April of 2016. It tells the story of Facebook
during that two month period. And then the piece has its one jump back where it goes and it tells
very quickly the story of Facebook from 2007 to 2016. And it introduces
several specific themes and a couple of characters who become important later. And that was very
deliberately done. Then the story jumps back into the chronology. It picks up right where it was in
April of 2016, introduces a couple of facts that will be important later to the story. And then it
mostly runs chronologically. So the structure is 80% chronological and 20%
thematic. At certain points, you have to introduce stories slightly out of chronological order
because of where you are thematically in the story. You're talking about Russia. You have
to introduce a fact about Russia, even if it doesn't exactly fit the timeline. But my co-author
Fred Vogelstein and I worked really hard to, as much as possible, make it chronological. It's a very deliberate structural choice.
So you could map out that story, and by mapping it out, learn the things that I just said, and also have a closer sense of the moments where we chose to break away from the chronology, and then be able to think through why we did that. And so you can do that with, you know, most stories and
you'll see flaws in some of them. You'll see brilliance in some of them. You'll see, you know,
chronological structure is not a particularly interesting structure, but it's a very good one.
You'll see interesting ways to do it. You can do it watching movies too. But I think it's a really
useful exercise. It will make you a better writer and observer to take these things apart.
When you map a story, just to use the tool you mentioned, which is a whiteboard,
what does it look like visually? I mean, is it kind of bullet, bullet, bullet from top to bottom?
Is it a set of circles going from left to right with things inside the circles, outside the circles? How do you map out a story if you're doing it on a whiteboard? It's probably, um, it probably has, I mean,
there are different ways to state of the story,
but it probably has two things. It probably has like section, right?
So section a, you know, the crime section B, the chase, right.
And then so sort of titles for all the sections and then sort of lines
with the different characters who are being introduced and where they're being introduced,
and maybe even the different themes that are being introduced and where they're being introduced.
So it's not really circles. It's more like, it's closer to bullet points.
Mm-hmm. Recommendation I'd love to make for people also, this is something I really need
to revisit myself, although I'm not doing as much writing at the moment, but for people also, this is something I really need to revisit myself, although I'm not doing as
much writing at the moment. But for people who are really interested in structure and this mapping
of stories, Draft No. 4 by John McPhee is just a fantastic read. And it really gets into the weeds,
so you have to be exceptionally interested in writing to get into it.
But it shows some of the diagrams of his structures for various feature pieces that he's written, including for The New Yorker,
which I find incredibly, incredibly fascinating,
given that if anyone has not read Levels of the Game by John McPhee,
I cannot recommend it highly enough. Um, also from a structural standpoint, that sort of chronology plus theme combination, uh, just to tell a story about McPhee, because he's in some ways the reason why I ended up working at The New Yorker.
So when I was at Wired as a senior editor, The New Yorker reached out and said,
hey, we've heard you're a good senior editor.
We have an opening. Would you like to apply?
I said, of course. I mean, I loved Wired. I loved everything about Wired. But New Yorker would be an amazing challenge.
And so I applied, and I went through the process.
And the process was you edit two 10,000-word stories.
You rewrite things.
It's an exhaustive process.
You interview with eight people.
And I went through it, and I didn't get it.
But I could kind of sense in the note that they sent that I had been close.
And then maybe, so that was probably probably I think this was 2009
it was probably October of 2009
and then there was a holiday party
in December of 2009
where I met somebody
who had been an assistant
at the New Yorker
and they were like
Nick Thompson
oh my god
they went back and forth
back and forth
they almost hired you
but they didn't hire you
right
I was like
well that's interesting information
I suppose it's painful
but it's interesting.
So then two months later, about February,
I had gotten,
I knew I was about to receive
weirdly sort of two other offers,
one to go into television,
one to work for another magazine,
both of which were very tempting.
And so I knew that I would be switching my career soon.
And I remember staying up late one night,
and I read The Shape of the Bark Canoe by John McPhee,
which is just a kind of unknown book, but just brilliant. It's like all the thief workers.
It's so good. And so I read it and I finished it. I remember lying on my couch. It's like
2.30 in the morning and I finished it. I was so emotional. I was like, you know, I really,
I want to give the New Yorker another shot before I, before I totally step away.
And so that night at 2.30, I sent an email to the deputy editor, Pam McCarthy.
I was like, Pam or Ms. McCarthy, I know you almost hired me, you know, four months ago.
And I'm about to leave the company.
Wired is part of, Wired where I worked then, where I work now is part of Condé Nast,
which the New Yorker is also part of.
I'm about to leave the company to go somewhere else.
But I really want to work for you.
So this would be the moment.
And I'd love to have another shot at it.
And it was kind of a strange email to send.
I was just sort of so emotional after reading McPhee.
And Tim wrote back and was like, okay, let's come meet with me again and meet with Remnick
again.
And so I went upstairs to their office, met with them again. Remnick was very
blunt about why he hadn't hired me the first time, asked me whether I could address the concern he
had. The concern he had was basically that you would come on and you want to write and do
television and do all these other stuff instead of just putting your head down and being an editor.
I said, no, I will put my head down and be an editor. I can prove it to you. You can be another edit test. Uh, they gave me another edit test and then, you know, probably
a week or two later they hired me. So it was entirely, uh, McPhee that, um, that, you know,
spurred me to write that email to Pam and then got me hired. That's so amazing. What a great story.
Oh my God. Uh, yeah. I mean,
for people who really want to go down that rabbit hole, I mean, brigade de cuisine, uh, there's so
many, oh my God, it's, you've, you really can't go wrong, uh, with, with McPhee. Uh, yeah. Uh,
that's, that's a wonderful story. How did you decide to get into the startup game startup
game is a full contact sport generally very very difficult how did that come into the fold
so that happened um so i was an editor at wired and at wired you know particularly under that
time under chris anderson really encouraged people to do different things. I have done this crazy,
wonderful story where there's a writer at Ratliff who I edited at wired.
Awesome guy.
Um,
we had gotten,
um,
very drunk one night and we were talking about,
um,
for some reason there were like a lot of people who are kind of faking their
death and starting life over,
right?
Which is an interesting thing to do in the digital age because it's kind of easier to start a new life
and create a new identity, right?
Just create a new email address, new Twitter account,
but it's also easier to track people.
So it's kind of an interesting wire dilemma.
And we were talking about how to tell that story.
We were two other friends, Doug McRae and a woman, Jen Kahn.
The four of us were having ceviche and alcohol.
And somehow, through this long conversation, Evan came up with this idea,
which is that he would write a story about how to fake your death and start life over.
And then we would run it.
And then he would fake his death, and we would run a manhunt to find him.
Well, not fake his death, but basically go off the grid,
and Wired would run a manhunt to find him.
This was early Twitter.
And so we took that idea to the Wired pitch meeting.
It got a very high score, got approved.
He wrote part one, which is, you know,
here are some stories about people
who've tried to start over in the digital age.
And then he went on the run.
And so we ran this experiment for a month.
It was August of, I guess, August 2009.
And the experiment was,
Evan Ratliff has disappeared.
If you find him, you get $5,000.
And then the rules were that I would have all the information a private investigator would have.
So I would be able to interview his family members.
I would have access to his old photos, like a Social Security number, all those things.
And I would leak them out through Twitter over the course of the month.
And we had no idea it was going to work.
It was one of those things that, like, maybe he'll get found the first day, or maybe no one will care.
Did you end up leaking his social security number?
I don't think I leaked it, but I might have.
I leaked so much information about him.
I certainly put out his address,
his girlfriend's name, his ex's,
photographs of him in high school,
his mother's name,
all the stuff he would have.
His credit card bills.
And it was crazy.
People got so excited.
And it all happened on Twitter.
It was like the first time I was really into Twitter.
And so the deal was if he made it a month, he got $5,000.
If he got caught, the person got $5,000. And so he got caught because he was using Tor,
which disguises IP address.
It's a masking thing that makes it impossible
for people to see what IP address he used.
But he screwed up once.
And by screwing up once,
some smart coder figured out a little bit about where he was.
Then that guy figured out the fake Twitter account
that Eb had created
and followed it by creating a fake fembot.
So we had a fake fembot following editor Evan.
They somehow then figured out that Evan was in New Orleans.
We made a deal with Will Shorts that if you solved the New York Times crossword puzzle,
embed it in it would be a clue about where Evan was.
So I think the clue was something
like, um, he'll be at a pizza restaurant and I had leaked online that he was gluten-free. So these
like geniuses online and like solve the crossword puzzle and basically put together that there's
only one pizza place you can go to in new Orleans, which serves gluten-free pizza. And they caught
him on the last day. It was an amazing hunt. Yeah.
So that was really exciting.
And so that happens.
And Evan and I, of course, bond, despite the fact that I've almost ruined his life as the private investigator.
And so maybe a month after that, Evan and I were, maybe two months after that, we were watching at his apartment, watching a football game, like an Alabama college football game.
He's from the
South and was rooting for them. And he's like, you know, we should start a magazine that does
that kind of thing. I was like, sure. That sounds like fun. And I had a, I just published my book
and I had a really good web designer. I was getting Jeff Robb. I was like, well, let's meet
Jeff and see whether he wants to do it with us. And so the three of us got together and we said,
okay, let's start a digital only magazine. And so the idea was that I would keep my job. The two of them would go full-time to start the
Atavist. Um, we would, you know, run experimental stories, crazy long form stories and see what we
could do. And then right about that time, Apple introduced the iPad. So then the idea became,
though, you know, kind of be iPad focused and, um, we'll do multimedia. And so we started this company at a super propitious moment.
In order to create the stories,
Jeff had to write a content management system
that would make it easier for us to do multimedia storytelling.
And so accidentally, we suddenly had a business too
because then we were able to license
the content management system to people.
So we built a really cool business.
So the goal hadn't been to start like a software company,
a software company.
The goal had been just like,
let's make a cool magazine that does long form.
And we inadvertently built a good business.
And so, you know, nine years later, we still get it.
It's still publishing every month,
and there's still a CMS that we're still selling.
All good things start with ceviche and alcohol.
Yeah, that's probably true.
What was the name of, if you recall, the headline, the title of the piece about, well, I suppose it wasn't about Evan at this point, but about people starting over in a digital world?
Do you recall?
I don't remember the first story.
How might people find?
If they type in Wired Vanish,
it's all called Vanish,
you'll find it.
Or if you type in Evan Ratliff,
R-A-T-L-I-F-S,
I think the headline,
it's like Vanish.
Evan Ratliff tried to disappear.
Here's what happened.
And it will tell,
because after he got caught,
he wrote this great 8,000-word story
about his life
on the run.
So good.
It was the first story from where I'd ever nominated for a National Magazine Award in
feature writing.
Such a good story.
So yeah, Evan Ratliff tried to vanish.
Here's what happened.
And would looking for his name in Vanish also lead to the preceding piece that he had written
about?
Yeah, definitely.
Okay, very cool.
Yeah.
That's an ongoing fantasy.
Although increasingly difficult.
It does give some good advice, but maybe a little bit out of date, because, you know,
eight years ago, the digital tracking tools are different.
So you, by any objective measure, have gotten a lot done and get a lot done. Love to talk about structure and routine, not in writing, but in your life.
And this was as good a place as any to ask, do you still run to and from work or how long you do?
So what I have here is you run to work, shower at the gym next door, and then you have suits in the office to change into.
And then at the end of the day, you change back into your running clothes and run back home.
Why is that important to you?
Have you always been running?
Yeah.
So I was a runner in high school and college. Um, and then, um, I took some time off, but I started sort of marathoning reasonably seriously
in my late twenties.
And it's important for all kinds of reasons.
It's important as a sense of self.
It's important.
Um, physically it's important, you know, to have physical things one does as one gets
older in the early forties.
Now it's important, you know, emotionally, as one gets older. I'm in my early 40s now.
It's important emotionally because at one point in my life I got very sick,
and so it's a reminder when I can still do it that I'm no longer that.
So there are a lot of intense reasons why I run and why I like to run.
But it's really hard to find time to run because I have this ambitious job.
I work super late every night.
I've got three kids, and I'm a very devoted father,
so I need to be with them in the morning. I need to be with them in the evenings. Um, so I can't
kind of take off and run. Um, and in fact, it's often harder to find time to run on weekends than
it is on the weekdays. So having it structured into my life where, you know, I put myself a
wallet and keys and a little, like a little pack, strap it on, run, run home. It, uh, it works
really nicely. Uh, and it keeps me, I think it's also a good mental break strap it on, run, you run home. It, uh, it works really nicely.
Uh, and it keeps me, I think it's also a good mental break. You know, you spend the morning
like with your kids, getting them ready. You know, there's a lot of energy and excitement.
Um, and then, um, when I go back home, you know, there's a lot of energy, excitement,
putting them to sleep and then kind of going back to work. Um, so it's nice to have like
two little breaks in the day where I'm, where I'm running.
If you're open to talking about it, you mentioned you had a period when you got very sick, which,
which I don't know anything about.
Could you tell us a bit more?
There's nothing about on the internet.
I, I got thyroid cancer, which is, you know, it's cancer, which is a horrible, terrible
thing, but it's the, it's kind of the, the least dangerous kind.
But what had happened with running is, I'll sort of tell that whole story.
I started running, started running marathons, and I remember really wanting to break three hours.
As a child, I'd watch my father.
He'd run a marathon.
It was like three hours and ten seconds, and he had been frustrated that he couldn't run a three hour marathon. And so I started running marathons and I like couldn't crack it. And then one year I like totally cracked it and ran a 243, right. And it was like way underneath it.
My dad was super proud. And then right after that, um, I got diagnosed with thyroid cancer
and I ended up having a couple of surgeries going through radiation treatment.
How did you, how did you diagnose it?
Was it during a routine physical?
I just went through a checkup.
Yeah, it was like a couple weeks after the marathon.
It was the Marathon of November, so it was early December.
And the doctor was like, there's a lump.
It's probably nothing, but let's check it.
And so he checked it, and it was like, oh, it might be bad.
And then you go through that whole process that people who have been sick go through where, you know, oh, no, this could be bad, but it'll probably be okay.
And I'm in my 20s.
I've always been healthy.
Oh, no, it looks like it might be bad.
Oh, no, it is bad, but it won't be that bad.
Oh, no, it is that bad.
And you sort of go through months of these tests and experiments and biopsies as you either like you either exit or you like you just get
ever deeper into it. Um, you know, at one point I remember they thought actually, Oh no, you're
okay. Um, but in any case, so I went, then I went through like the surgery to have it all removed
and then the radiation treatment and then the sort of titration of the medicine to try to get
you back to normal. And it just completely obliterated me. It was the first time in my life that I'd been just,
just knocked off my feet and I couldn't,
like I couldn't run,
you know,
like 15 feet.
Right.
So that was a really tough emotional period for all kinds of reasons.
You know,
you're thinking about mortality in a real way for the first time in my late
twenties.
I had just been married,
you know,
thinking about,
well now will I ever be able to have children? Like what, what your, your expectations on what
life becomes are totally different. Um, and so I went through that period and fortunately
came out the other side and then it was really emotionally uplifting and psychologically
powerful when I guess it was two years after that first marathon.
I think in that first marathon, I finished it in like two hours, 43 minutes and like 52 seconds.
And then like two years later, I ran the same marathon and finished it in like two hours,
42 minutes and 50 seconds or something like that.
And it was incredibly powerful to suddenly feel like in a way that signal that I was through it.
And so every year since then, I've more or less every year since then, except the years
where I've had kids, I've tried to run the same marathon.
And that ties you back to the original story about running.
Well, thank you for sharing that.
I mean, it's, I think, easy for folks to look at your bio or read about all the things you've accomplished
and assume that it's just been one kind of home run after another,
after another,
aside from that kidnapping in Northern Africa,
which turned out to be a blessing in disguise of sorts.
But I appreciate you sharing that.
And to further sort of flesh out the picture just a little bit,
could you tell us about a time when you felt, aside from that particular period,
when you felt overwhelmed or a darker period?
Yeah, any of that and how you found your way out or what you do in those circumstances. Well, there have been, you know, my professional career in my, you know,
the first six or seven years was not great.
You know, so I finished school.
I have that kind of messed up period where I go to Africa.
I write for the Post.
But it's a period of getting rejected by 20 jobs before I get hired at the Washington
Monthly.
So then there's like a moment of awesomeness where for two years, I'm editor of the Washington
Monthly, going back to New York, playing guitar on the weekends.
But the Washington Monthly job is very much a two-year job.
And the expectation when I finished was, like all previous editors in
Washington, I would go on and have an awesome career in journalism. I finished, you know,
I think I finished like September 9th, 2011. And after I finished, I had a really rough time.
I couldn't get hired. I, you know, I got rejected by 20 journalistic institutions. I was sure I was
going to get hired at the New York Times. I didn't get hired at the New York institutions. I was sure I was going to get hired at the New York Times.
I didn't get hired at the New York Times.
I'm sure I was going to get hired at the Washington Post.
I thought I had.
It just didn't work.
I ended up as a fellow at the New America Foundation, which was fine.
But from roughly 2001 to 2005, I couldn't get journalism going again. And so in the summer of 2005, I guess in 2005,
I was working at a magazine called Legal Affairs, which I will like and is really grateful to,
but it wasn't. It was in New Haven. My girlfriend, who's now my wife, was in New York.
I applied to law school, which is the way you get out of journalism, right? And the way you
retract your life, right? If you're in your your twenties and the career you're doing is not working, one great way to retract your life is
through law school. Uh, so I applied to law school and I got into NYU and I was literally set to go.
Um, I guess I would have matriculated in August of 2005. Um, I think Wired wrote to me in July
of 2005 saying, Hey, were you interested in being a senior editor? And so that summer, um, it was crazy, right? Cause my whole life is going to,
I know it's going to hinge on this decision, right? Am I going to stay in journalism
and, or am I going to go to law school and then like do something completely different? Um,
and the way it all shook out, I remember the, the, I hadn't, I don't think I had been offered
the Wired job, but I was pretty sure I was going
to get it. And for the day before I was doing NYU, I wrote to them and said, no, I'm not going.
And then I prayed I would get the wire job. And I did get it. And I started the next month.
But it was, that was like, those were a couple of years where I was like, you know,
make the right decision. Like, because remember when I had been like a teenager,
I hadn't expected to be a journalist,
so I had all this self-doubt about whether I had ended up in the wrong profession accidentally.
Because if you look at your life as, you know, when you're 25 and you think back to what would Nick have thought at 19,
the funny turn into journalism, which now seems so propitious and so good, because
sort of the weird story where I'm kidnapped and I write the story and I get hired at the
Washington Monthly and it attracts me.
Like, if you look at it from now, it looks like a really fortunate thing that those things
happened.
But if you're in your mid-20s and journalism isn't working and you look at it and think,
wait, I wasn't supposed to be a journalist.
I didn't want to be a journalist.
So maybe that just all got me going on the wrong foot.
And I should have, like, if I hadn't gone to Africa, I would be in a much better place.
So that was really complicated to think through and work through.
And it ended up all working out really well.
I'm extremely happy where I am now.
But that was, there was definitely a couple of years where I was totally adrift, where
my peer group was doing much better than I was doing, and where I felt like I was in
the wrong field.
How did Wired find you?
Or how did it come to pass that they reached out to you with that potential offer?
Because I have a friend for whom I've had an amazing career overlap.
There's a guy named Brendan Kerr.
He and I are exactly the same age. And I edited something he wrote at,
when I was at the Washington Monthly,
and he was at U.S. News and World Report,
he wrote that at the Washington Monthly,
and I edited it, and he liked the way I edited it.
And so we became friends.
And so then he left U.S. News
and got hired at New America Foundation,
and then I got hired at New America Foundation after him,
and he recommended
me. And then he went to Wired, and he recommended me there. And so I got hired at Wired, and I
recommended him to my book agent, and he ended up selling a book through that. And then he wrote
for me at The New Yorker, he wrote for me at The Atomist, and he's got the current cover story in
Wired. So we've had these amazing intertwined careers and friendship.
It's been really terrific.
And he's one of those people who,
with some people who are the same age and in the same field,
they're competitive and maybe don't always want you to succeed.
And for whatever reason, he and I have had a relationship
where I've always only wanted him to succeed
and he's only always wanted me to succeed.
And so we've been extremely helpful to each other. Um, and that's been, that's been great. And so
look at the cover story of the next issue and Brendan's name is there and I'm super proud of it.
The karmic cycle continues. That's great. Uh, I want to, I want to go back to the whatever it was 24 hour period where you've turned down this exploding offer slash
expiring offer for law school yet you haven't yet you haven't yet been offered the job at wired
can you walk us through the the dinner the conversation in your head, the sort of hours preceding notifying law school
that you were not going to be matriculated?
Because that strikes me as terrifying.
That seems completely terrifying.
I mean, the game theory was both a little trickier
and in some ways easier because there was a third option.
I had written, my grandfather, Paul Nititsa had died and George Kennan had both
died in early 2004. And I had written an essay about their parallel lives. And so I had also
decided that maybe I would write a book about the two of them. And so I had a proposal for a book.
So I had three things that I could do with my life. And I was going to do some combination
of one of those three things or two of those three things. I knew there wouldn't
be time to do all three. You can't go to law school, work for Wired, and write a book.
And so the law school offer was going to explode mid-August. The Wired option,
I was going to hear about relatively soon. And the book, I think I had sent a draft of a proposal to my agent. And so either that was
going to become a reality or not a reality. And so in some ways, the decision was, if I go to law
school, even if I don't get the wire job, I still maybe have a shot at the book. So the odds were
like, the odds were okay. Um, but I, you know, what do I remember about that day? I was in Maine up at a place my family
has up near Acadia National Park where I spent summers through my childhood, which is like a
very reflective, wonderful place and a place where I always feel good and confident. And maybe it was
being there. Maybe it was, you know, I, there was some unease, some deep unease about going to law school, some sense that I was giving up, some sense of it was the weak choice to make.
I don't exactly remember, but I do remember being terrified when I wrote them and said no and thinking, well, you came up with a pretty good backup here, Nick.
You have a pretty good plan.
NYU is a pretty awesome law school to go to.
It's three years, and you graduate.
You're guaranteed a really well-paying, successful career of life in New York.
And you're throwing that away, but I went for it.
Well, thank God for that, I suppose.
Well, who knows?
I mean, who knows, right, in the parallel universe?
Yeah, who knows?
Who knows? It seems to have worked out. But I do think about that a knows, right? In the parallel universe. Yeah, who knows?
Who knows?
It seems to have worked out. But I do think about that a lot, right?
Like, there are very few moments where your life entirely hinges upon a specific decision.
Right?
Like, the choice of who you marry, but that's not really a choice.
It's not so much like that.
I can't think of any other day that's close to it. Um, I mean,
I guess the choice to write Pam McCarthy at the New Yorker, um, had a, had a big influence. Um,
you know, there was the choice to leave the New Yorker to accept this wire job. That was a pretty
easy choice towards the New Yorker, but you're going to be at energy of a wire. You definitely
take it. Um, so there, there are a few moments, but that was definitely the day where I made the
choice that had the biggest effect, but you don't get to, you know, live life multiple
ways.
So it seems like the right choice.
Everything worked out as well as it possibly could have, but who knows?
Uh, well, Nick, I want to be respectful of your time.
So I just have just a few more questions for you.
And these are, these are my, some of my usual questions that I like to ask.
The first is what book or books have you given most as gifts to other people besides your own?
Oh, that's a, that I can answer.
So this year, so each of the last two years, I've given one book to a bunch of people.
And this year is a book by Robert Wright called Why Buddhism is True.
And it's a story about mindfulness and about the science of Buddhism and the current neuroscience about how our minds work,
making the argument that the things people have said about mindfulness meditation
and the way it changes your capacity to empathize with other people
and to sort of break out of the tribalism that we're all locked into, the things that Buddhism has said about that
turn out to be scientifically correct. And here's a story about why. Wonderful book. Robert Wright
is one of the smartest writers I've ever read. His book Non-Zero is among my five favorite books
of all time. So that book came out recently and I gave that to my closest friend and my family.
The year before, I gave a book by Larissa McFarquhar
called Strangers Drowning, which is a story about people who make extraordinary moral choices,
like the choice to adopt 23 children and bring them into your lives. You just make
crazy choices and why they make those choices. And Larissa is one of the smartest writers at
The New Yorker. Everything she writes is absolutely brilliant. And the book is brilliant beginning to end. It's sort of
10 discrete chapters about people who make choices like that. So I gave Larissa's book last year and
probably write a book this year. Thank you. Just wrote those down.
Yeah, they're good. Totally worth reading both of them.
Yeah, they're on the to read list, which is always on bottom right-hand corner of my notes that I take during these conversations.
Oh, nice. That's cool.
Yeah.
All right, just a few more.
Let's see. I'm picking here.
In the last few years, could be five years, could be ten, could be two, what behavior, new behavior or belief has most improved,
positively impacted your life, would you say, or has just had a very significant impact?
Having kids, you know, so my kids are nine, seven and four now. And thinking about the
responsibilities one has to your children who will outlive you and who in certain ways will carry on your personality.
You carry on your life after you're gone. Thinking through my responsibilities to them,
how the choices I make will be viewed by them when they're older. Thinking about both how I can
help them thrive and be the people they want to become. And also how I can be somebody who, when I'm gone,
they admire. Um, those are, those are pretty, those are deeply profound things. And, you know,
I had no capacity of what it was like to have children before I had children with none. Um,
uh, but it's, it's psychologically profound on in every, every way. So definitely that. Is there any advice or books or anything else
that you found particularly helpful as a parent?
I don't think I've actually read a book on parenting
that changed my philosophy of parenting.
There are a couple of books about how to get your kids to sleep,
which is useful technical stuff. That's interesting. I don't think I a couple of books about how to get your kids to sleep, which is like useful technical stuff.
I haven't read, you know, that's interesting.
I don't think I've read a book on parenting where it's like,
oh, I should raise my child that way or I should talk to them this way.
It's been much more just doing it and just thinking through,
oh, wait, that wasn't the right way to talk about this.
Or, oh, yes, let's try to set them up for success in this way.
Or like, let's let them do this.
Let's go do this with them.
You mentioned the why Buddhism is true.
Do you have a meditation or mindfulness practice?
I don't.
I kind of think the running is the substitute for that.
And when I'm running, I don't think it's that dissimilar from mindfulness meditation
because when I run, I guess there
are two things I'd say to that. One is the running. So, you know, I do very much try to,
I either listen to podcasts or if I'm not listening to podcasts, I'm thinking about
like trying to clear my mind or thinking through specific things and trying to concentrate on it or
paying attention to what I see or what I hear. So I think that's reasonably close to mindfulness
meditation. And then the second
thing is I do Alexander technique, which is a technique I learned for playing guitar, just for
how one positions one's body and like a line in your head to make sure it's straight with your
back and making sure your feet are solid in the ground. That was something I did when I was having
a lot of wrist pain from playing guitar too much. And I think that's, that's a sort of a centering technique that also plays a similar role.
But I have not figured out how to work meditation into my life.
The Alexander Technique,
is that something that you use while you're sitting in a chair at the office
throughout the day?
When does that tend?
Yeah, so it's something I think about.
Of course, as soon as I say it,
I find myself adjusting myself in the chair.
Yeah, it's something where whenever I'm kind of out of position
or I can feel like something's not aligned, I, you know, straighten up,
you know, try to think about where I lost my hands, right?
I just do just, okay, make sure my back is aligned, my hand is aligned.
And it's something that I think has prevented a lot of injuries.
I almost have never gotten hurt while running,
even though I'm running a distance that often will get people hurt.
And I think it's partly due to posture training.
Okay, just two or three more.
And this is sometimes a question that stumps people, but you've been pretty fast on your feet.
So if you need to buy some time or pass, that's fine as well. If you could have a, if you had, this is really
metaphorically speaking, a giant billboard on which you could put a word, a question, a quote,
someone else's quote, a question, anything really, a message to get out to millions or billions of
people, what might you put on that billboard? Oh, you know what it is? Um, I'm not gonna get
the exact quote, right. Which, you know, means I'd have to spell check it, but there's something that George Kennan said that I just find incredibly philosophically profound, which is something I think about a lot.
Not enough to remember the exact words, but the idea was when you look at everything that goes wrong historically, you can see a deep chain of continuous mistakes
that lead up to it. And in a way, that's really discouraging because it makes you think about
like each step like leading to greater consequences. But on the other hand, it's really encouraging
because if you think about it and you think about, oh wait, what if you do something right?
Can you do something right right now? You're starting a whole other chain of events
that can lead to a really positive outcome.
And so his point when he was making the statement,
which is more or less that,
is even if things seem like they're going in the wrong direction
or things seem really wrong,
you can stop and you can do something small that's right,
and then that will begin another chain of events
that will lead to something really good.
And so I often think about that when I'm thinking about whatever the next thing I'm going to do is or the next moment is.
You're beginning a new chain of events, a new chain of events that will lead you in the right direction.
You're continuing in a good chain.
So it was that idea from Kennan that was based on his historical studies that I think about a lot.
That's a good one.
Well, Nick,
this has been a lot of fun and yeah,
it's been great talking to you.
Thank you for taking the time.
Do you have any final words,
any ask of the audience recommendation,
anything you'd like to say before we wrap up?
No,
I,
I love talking to you.
I mean,
the thing I want,
I'd love people to subscribe to wire.
That'd be great.
Everybody subscribes to wire and I'll be a very happy man.
You know, journalism is a complicated business,
particularly at this moment.
So we would love your support.
And if they want to say hi on social,
NX Thompson.
I'm on social.
I talk to people all the time.
I'm at NX Thompson on Twitter.
I'm on LinkedIn.
I'm on Facebook.
There's a private page, public page.
I love talking to people.
I love hearing feedback.
I'm very active in comments and all that. DMs are open. So I'm available. I'm around. I'm on the internet.
Well, Nick, thank you again for taking the time. This was a really fun conversation.
Yeah, I thought we covered a lot of interesting ground. Thanks for your awesome questions and
probing. That was really fun.
Yeah, of course. My pleasure. And to everybody listening, you can find
links to everything, Wired,
the books, resources,
and the
Alexander Technique, among other things,
in the show notes
as per usual for this episode and every other
episode at tim.blog.com.
And until next time, thank you
for listening.
Hey guys, this is Tim again, just a few more things before you take off. Number one, this is five bullet Friday. Do you want to get
a short email from me? And would you enjoy getting a short email from me every Friday
that provides a little morsel of fun for the weekend and five bullet Friday is a very short
email where I share the coolest things I've found or that I've been pondering over the week. That could include
favorite new albums that I've discovered. It could include gizmos and gadgets and all sorts of
weird shit that I've somehow dug up in the world of the esoteric as I do. It could include
favorite articles that I've read and that I've shared with my close friends, for instance.
And it's very short.
It's just a little tiny bite of goodness before you head off for the weekend.
So if you want to receive that, check it out.
Just go to 4hourworkweek.com.
That's 4hourworkweek.com all spelled out.
And just drop in your email and you will get the very next one.
And if you sign up, I hope you enjoy it. This episode is brought to you by Peloton. And I'd heard about Peloton over
and over again, but I ended up getting a Peloton bike in the whole system after I saw my buddy,
Kevin Rose. I've known him forever. Some of you know, and he showed up at my gate at my house a while back and he looked fantastic.
And I asked him, I said, dude, you look great.
What the hell have you been up to?
Because he's always doing a weird diet or another, but it only lasts like a week or two.
So he always regresses to the mean after like 75 beers.
And he said, I've been doing Peloton five days a week.
Now that caught my attention because Kevin does nothing five days a week. And you know,
I love you, Kevin. But it really piqued my curiosity, ended up getting a system,
and it's become an integral part of my week. I love it. And I really didn't expect to love it
at all because I find cycling really boring usually. But Peloton is an indoor cycling bike
that brings live studio classes right into your home.
You don't have to worry about fitting classes into your schedule or making it to a studio with some type of commute, etc.
New classes are added every day, and this includes options led by elite New York City instructors in your own living room.
You can even live stream studio classes taught by the world's best instructors or find your own favorite class on demand.
And in fact, Kevin and I rarely do live classes and
you can compete with your friends, which is also fun. Kevin, I'm coming after you,
but we usually just use classes on demand. I really like Matt Wilpers and his high intensity
training sessions that are shorter, like 20 minutes. And I think Kevin's favorite is Alex
and everyone seems to have their favorite
instructor or you can select by music duration and so on. Each Peloton bike includes a 22 inch HD
touchscreen performance tracking metrics. I think that along with the real-time leaderboard are the
main reasons that this caught my attention when cycling never had caught my attention before.
It's really pretty stunning
what they've done with the user interface to keep your attention. The belt drive is quiet and it's
smaller than you would expect. So it can fit in a living room or an office. I actually have it
in a large closet, believe it or not, and it fits with no problem. So Peloton is offering
all of you guys, listeners of the Tim Ferriss Show, a special offer.
And it is actually special.
Visit OnePeloton, that's O-N-E-P-E-L-O-T-O-N, OnePeloton.com,
and enter the code TIM, all caps, T-I-M, at checkout to receive $100 off accessories with your Peloton bike purchase.
Now, you might say, meh, accessories? Wait, I don't need fancy towels or whatever other supplemental bits and pieces. No, the shoes you need, you need the clip in shoes
and those are in the accessory category. So this a hundred dollars off is a very legit a hundred
dollars off. So if you want to get in your workouts, if you want a convenient and really
entertaining way to do high intensity interval training or anything else, or you want a convenient and really entertaining way to do high intensity interval
training or anything else, or you just want to get a fantastic gift for someone, check out Peloton.
OnePeloton.com and enter the code TIM. Again, that's O-N-E-P-E-L-O-T-O-N.com and enter the
code TIM at checkout to receive $100 off any accessories, including the shoes that you will want to get.
Check it out.
OnePeloton.com, code TIM.
This episode is brought to you by LinkedIn and their job recruitment platform,
which offers a smarter system for the hiring process.
If you've ever hired anyone or attempted to do it,
you know that finding the right people can be extremely difficult. And if you don't have a direct referral from someone you trust, you're left to use job
boards that don't really offer any real world networking approach. And what I mean by that is,
in contrast, LinkedIn, which is the world's largest professional network, has a built in
ecosystem that allows you to not only search for employees, but also interact with them and their connections and their former employers or colleagues in a way that closely mimics
real life communication. More than 70% of the workforce in the U.S. uses LinkedIn,
and more than 22 million professionals view and apply to LinkedIn every single week. Unlike
generic job boards, LinkedIn considers skills, experience, and location to match with candidates, making it easier to find quality candidates. And maybe above all,
you can directly contact a candidate's connections to get a good sense of if they are a good fit for
your business. So visit linkedin.com forward slash Tim and receive a $50 credit towards your
first job post. That's linkedin.com forward slash Tim, T-I-M for $50 off. you