In one of my by-now almost numberless rants against Washington Post publisher Katharine Weymouth ( probably this one), I claimed that cozy, off-the-record dinners hosted by Atlantic publisher David Bradley had no price tag attached. Well, I was totally wrong.
As this story in TPM Muckraker, and this one in Slate, demonstrate, Bradley has been happily running a pay-for-play racket that puts the Atlantic’s journalistic genitalia in hock both to the corporate bigshots who cough up the cash and the politicos who serve as bait.
A flyer posted by TPM Muckraker offers
Private, custom, off-the-record conversations of 20-30 key influential individuals, moderated by an Atlantic editor, designed to bring a thoughtful group together for unbounded conversation on key issues of the day. Salon dinners may be used to:
- Engage participants in a setting conducive to producing candid sentiments about the selected topic of conversation
- Introduce CEOs of hosting organization to targeted influencers
- Build relationships with key stakeholders in priorities by establishing a rapport
- Test messaging and inform opinions with a cross-section of “elites” from government, policy cicles, business, academia, media and others
Bradley’s 1,500 word “explanation” to the contrary notwithstanding, the whole enterprise is the opposite of journalism—concealing information instead of bringing it to light. And Bradley isn’t a publisher so much as he is a pimp.
Afterwords
I hope you enjoy the rosettes. Bitchin’, n’est-ce pas? That’s what you get when you ask blogspot for bullets.
