I asked Grok for an analysis of my 2004 book:
Yesterday’s News Tomorrow: Inside American Jewish Journalism, published by iUniverse, Inc. in 2004, is a provocative exploration of the state of Jewish journalism in the United States. Authored by Luke Ford, the book combines interviews, personal reflections, and critical commentary to dissect the practices, personalities, and challenges within this niche media landscape. The document spans over 400 pages, including a foreword by Robert J. Avrech, a second foreword by Matt Welch, a glossary, appendices, and an index, indicating a comprehensive approach to the subject.
The book is structured around interviews with prominent figures in Jewish journalism, supplemented by Ford’s own essays and critiques. The table of contents (partially visible) suggests chapters dedicated to individual journalists or editors (e.g., Gene Lichtenstein, Mark Silk), while appendices provide additional context, such as historical essays and Ford’s personal opinions on the field’s shortcomings. The inclusion of a “Glossary & Cast of Characters” (pp. xxi-xxviii) aids readers unfamiliar with Jewish terminology and key players, reflecting an intent to reach both insider and outsider audiences.
Themes
Several recurring themes emerge from the text:
Critique of Complacency and Mediocrity
Ford’s central thesis, as articulated in “Eleven Problems With Jewish Journalism” (Appendix F, pp. 361-364), is that Jewish journalism suffers from predictability, lack of imagination, and an unwillingness to challenge the status quo. He accuses it of being overly cautious, prioritizing community harmony over hard-hitting reporting (e.g., “Placing sensitivity, tact, and restraint above other values,” p. 363). This is echoed in quotes from interviewees like J.J. Goldberg (“The Jews who look to Jewish journalism tend to want to be anesthetized,” p. iii) and Allison Kaplan Sommer (“Of course Gary lacks balls. He’s the editor of a Federation paper,” p. iii).Tension Between Journalism and Jewish Values
The book grapples with the conflict between journalistic ethics (truth-seeking, transparency) and Jewish ethical principles like lashon hara (prohibition against harmful gossip). This tension is evident in Yosef I. Abramowitz’s “Jewish Sources For Journalistic Ethics” (Appendix D, pp. 351-355), which contrasts the prophetic call for justice with Talmudic restrictions on speech that damages reputations. Ford critiques Jewish papers for erring on the side of restraint, as seen in his examples of unreported scandals involving rabbis Sheldon Zimmerman and Amnon Finkelstein (p. 363).Personal Betrayal and Identity
Ford’s own story—detailed in Avrech’s foreword (pp. xv-xviii)—frames the book as a personal journey. His conversion from Seventh Day Adventism to Judaism, his expulsion from an Orthodox synagogue due to his porn journalism, and his confrontational style infuse the narrative with a sense of betrayal, both personal and professional. Avrech notes, “Betrayal fascinates Luke Ford. It’s his life” (p. xv), suggesting that Ford sees parallels between his own outsider status and the betrayals he perceives in Jewish journalism’s failure to uphold its potential.The Decline of Traditional Jewish Media
Ford argues that Jewish journalism is losing relevance in the digital age, a point reinforced by Jonathan Mark’s nostalgic “New Jewish Times” (Appendix C, pp. 347-350) and Ford’s call for blogs and innovative storytelling (p. 362). He contrasts the vibrant Yiddish press of the past with the “boring” modern Anglo-Jewish press, which he believes fails to capture the passion and intimacy of its predecessors.Power Dynamics and Influence
The book examines who controls Jewish journalism—often Federations or wealthy donors—and how this shapes content. Steven I. Weiss’s observation, “The main problem with Jewish journalism is one organization runs almost the entire show” (p. iii), highlights this issue. Ford’s interviews reveal resistance from subjects wary of his scrutiny, such as Malcolm Hoenlein’s threat, “If you publish this, I will fuck you for the rest of your life” (p. i), underscoring the stakes involved.Tone and Style
Ford’s tone is unabashedly confrontational and irreverent, aligning with his self-described role as a “provocateur” (Avrech, p. xviii). The opening quotes (pp. i-iii) are raw and combative, setting the stage for a no-holds-barred critique. His style blends traditional journalism (interviews, factual reporting) with autobiographical musings and biting commentary, as Matt Welch notes: “a fusion of traditional newspaper writing with an abundant dose of autobiographical musings” (p. xviii). This hybrid approach is evident in his candid exchanges with subjects, like Rob Eshman’s exhaustion (“He’s sucking me dry,” p. xvii), and his willingness to publish unfiltered responses, such as Benyamin Cohen’s backlash (p. xvii).
The forewords by Avrech and Welch frame Ford as both a disruptor and an innovator. Avrech praises his “puritan work ethic” and “raw matter of truth” (p. xviii), while Welch calls him “chillingly honest” and “unfailingly original” (p. xx). However, the tone can also alienate, as seen in the defensive or hostile reactions from interviewees (e.g., Rabbi Sheldon Zimmerman’s legal threat, p. i).
Key Content
Interviews with Journalists
The core of the book consists of interviews with figures like Stephen Fried, J.J. Goldberg, Gary Rosenblatt, and Rob Eshman. These exchanges, described as “North Korean-like interrogations artfully disguised as interviews” (Avrech, p. xvi), aim to expose complacency and elicit unguarded responses. Ford admires works like Fried’s The New Rabbi (p. xvii) for treating Jewish institutions with journalistic rigor, while criticizing others for timidity.Appendices
The appendices enrich the book’s scope:
“The Economics of Jewish Journalism in the United States” (pp. 343-346) details financial pressures, such as advertising ratios and postal costs, showing how economics influences editorial decisions.“New Jewish Times” (pp. 347-350) by Jonathan Mark offers a historical perspective on innovative Jewish journalism, contrasting it with modern stagnation.
“Jewish Sources For Journalistic Ethics” (pp. 351-355) by Yosef I. Abramowitz provides a scholarly lens on the ethical dilemmas Ford critiques.
“What The New York Times Tells Us About Ourselves” (pp. 357-360) by Ari L. Goldman reflects on how mainstream media shapes Jewish identity, complementing Ford’s focus on ethnic press.
“Eleven Problems With Jewish Journalism” (pp. 361-364) encapsulates Ford’s manifesto, blending critique with prescriptive ideas (e.g., adopting blogging techniques, p. 362).
Personal Reflections
Ford’s dedication to Cathy Seipp (p. ix) and mentions of his past (e.g., XXX-Communicated, p. vi) weave his narrative into the critique, making the book as much about his evolution as about Jewish journalism.Significance
Yesterday’s News Tomorrow stands out as a bold, if polarizing, contribution to media criticism. In 2004, when blogs were gaining traction and traditional print media faced existential threats, Ford’s call for a more dynamic, transparent Jewish press was prescient. His focus on the interplay between journalism and Jewish identity taps into broader debates about ethnic media’s role in diaspora communities. The book’s critique of Federation influence and its expose of unreported scandals (e.g., Zimmerman, Finkelstein) challenge the insular tendencies of Jewish institutions, aligning with a growing demand for accountability in religious and communal spheres.
However, Ford’s outsider status and abrasive style likely limited its mainstream acceptance. His prior work in porn journalism (noted in Avrech’s foreword) and his admitted biases (“Upfront about his conservative values,” p. xvi) may have alienated the liberal-leaning Jewish establishment he critiques. Nonetheless, the book’s raw honesty and innovative format—blending interviews, essays, and personal narrative—foreshadow the rise of citizen journalism and blogs, as Welch suggests (p. xx).
Strengths and Weaknesses
Strengths:
Unflinching Honesty: Ford’s willingness to name names and air dirty laundry (e.g., scandals at Hebrew Union College, p. 363) cuts through the politeness he deplores.Rich Primary Sources: The interviews provide a rare insider look at Jewish journalism’s power players.
Forward-Thinking: His advocacy for blogs and first-person storytelling anticipates digital media trends.
Weaknesses:
Subjectivity: Ford’s personal lens and conservative slant may undermine his credibility with some readers.Tone: The confrontational style, while engaging, risks overshadowing substantive analysis with provocation.
Scope: The focus on American Jewish journalism limits its relevance to global Jewish media contexts.
Conclusion
Yesterday’s News Tomorrow: Inside American Jewish Journalism is a fiery, idiosyncratic critique that doubles as a memoir of Luke Ford’s tumultuous relationship with journalism and Judaism. It exposes the flaws of a field Ford believes has lost its edge—too timid, too cozy with power, and too stuck in the past—while offering a vision for its reinvention. Though its impact may have been tempered by Ford’s reputation and approach, the book remains a valuable artifact for understanding the challenges and aspirations of Jewish media in the early 21st century. For readers today, it serves as both a historical snapshot and a reminder of the ongoing tension between community loyalty and journalistic integrity.
If the words are the man, then who is the author Luke Ford?
If “the words are the man,” then an analysis of Luke Ford’s Yesterday’s News Tomorrow: Inside American Jewish Journalism reveals a complex, provocative, and deeply conflicted individual. Drawing solely from the text provided and interpreting his words as a reflection of his character—without external biographical research—here’s a portrait of who Luke Ford appears to be based on his writing:
A Provocateur with a Puritan Streak
Ford’s words paint him as an old-fashioned agitator, a self-styled “provocateur” (Robert J. Avrech, p. xviii) who thrives on confrontation and disruption. His interviews are described as “North Korean-like interrogations artfully disguised” (p. xvi), and his opening salvo of raw, combative quotes—like Malcolm Hoenlein’s threat, “If you publish this, I will fuck you for the rest of your life” (p. i)—signals a man unafraid to ruffle feathers or burn bridges. Yet, this provocateur is paradoxically disciplined, with a “puritan work ethic” (Avrech, p. xviii) that drives him to labor tirelessly, not for polished prose but for “the raw matter of truth” (p. xviii). His relentless questioning and refusal to extend “professional courtesy” (p. xvi) suggest a moral fervor, a belief that journalism should unsettle rather than soothe.
This duality—provocative yet principled—hints at a man who sees himself as a crusader, wielding words as weapons to expose complacency. His disdain for “pious story by a leftist” (p. xvi) and his upfront conservative values reveal a worldview rooted in skepticism of liberal orthodoxy, particularly within the Jewish establishment he critiques.
An Outsider Seeking Truth Through Betrayal
Ford’s fascination with betrayal, as Avrech asserts (“Betrayal fascinates Luke Ford. It’s his life,” p. xv), emerges as a defining trait. His words reflect a man who has repeatedly crossed lines—between faiths (Seventh Day Adventism to Judaism), communities (expulsion from an Orthodox synagogue), and professions (porn journalism to Jewish media critique). This pattern is mirrored in his approach to journalism: he betrays the unspoken rules of politeness and self-censorship, demanding “names, dates, places” (p. xvii) and refusing to let subjects off the hook. His critique of Jewish journalism’s timidity—e.g., not naming Rabbi Sheldon Zimmerman’s sins (p. 363)—suggests he views betrayal of silence as a necessary act of truth-telling.
Yet, this outsider status is not merely rebellious; it’s existential. His dedication to Cathy Seipp (“my best friend,” p. ix) and references to personal torments (Matt Welch, p. xx) hint at a loneliness beneath the bravado. Ford’s words position him as a man apart, both by choice and circumstance, who uses journalism to bridge the gap between himself and the world he observes—only to widen it again with each abrasive encounter.
A Contrarian Innovator
Ford’s writing style—blending traditional interviews with “autobiographical musings” (Welch, p. xviii)—reveals a man who rejects convention while inventing something new. He scorns the “Inverted Pyramid” (p. 362) and calls for blogs, first-person accounts, and “zesty particulars” over “vague generalities” (p. 364), showing a creative restlessness. His admiration for Stephen Fried’s The New Rabbi (p. xvii) and Yossi Klein Halevi’s storytelling (p. 362) suggests a longing for journalism that captivates and surprises, a quality he strives to embody. His question to Welch, “What do you like to think about when you masturbate?” (p. xix), is not just crude but deliberately disarming, a tactic to break through facades and elicit authenticity.
This contrarian streak is intellectual as well as personal. Ford dismisses “objective journalism” as a myth (p. xvi), embracing his subjectivity with “disarming and refreshing honesty” (p. xvii). He’s a man who believes truth lies in the clash of perspectives, not in sanitized consensus, and his words challenge others to meet him on that battlefield.
A Moralist Wrestling with Contradictions
Despite his brash exterior, Ford’s words betray a moral core wrestling with contradictions. His critique of Jewish journalism’s “delusions of grandeur” (p. 363) and “desire to be loved” (p. 362) reflects a disdain for vanity and cowardice, yet his own self-insertion into stories (e.g., as a character in his narratives, p. 362) suggests a need for recognition. His conservative bent clashes with his past as a “porn freak” (Welch, p. xx), a tension he doesn’t shy away from, as seen in references to XXX-Communicated (p. vi). This juxtaposition—moralizing yet flawed—makes him a man of paradox, preaching accountability while embodying human messiness.
His respect for Jewish law (lashon hara, p. xvii) and admiration for the Torah’s narrative style (Jonathan Mark, p. 349) indicate a reverence for tradition, yet he rails against its stifling application in journalism. Ford is a moralist who demands integrity from others but acknowledges his own failures, a trait Welch calls “chillingly honest” (p. xx).
A Restless Seeker
Ford’s words pulse with a restless energy, a hunger for “a more interesting place” (Welch, p. xx). His “Eleven Problems With Jewish Journalism” (pp. 361-364) is both indictment and manifesto, revealing a man dissatisfied with mediocrity and eager to reshape the field. He’s not content to critique; he wants to inspire, pushing for “scene-by-scene construction” and “realistic dialogue” (p. 362) to rivet readers. His eclectic references—from Portnoy’s Complaint (p. 285) to the Warsaw Ghetto’s Oneg Shabbos (p. 350)—show a mind that roams widely, seeking meaning across history and culture.
This restlessness extends to his identity. As an Australian convert to Judaism (Welch, p. xx), Ford’s words suggest a perpetual quest for belonging, thwarted by his refusal to conform. He’s a seeker who finds truth in tension, not resolution.
Who is Luke Ford?
If his words are the man, Luke Ford is a provocative outsider, a truth-obsessed contrarian with a moralist’s zeal and a seeker’s restlessness. He’s a figure of contradictions—disciplined yet chaotic, principled yet flawed, conservative yet subversive—who uses journalism as both a mirror and a battering ram. His writing reveals a man driven by betrayal and a desire to expose it, a loner who craves connection through confrontation, and an innovator who mourns a past he never knew (the Yiddish press) while heralding a future he hopes to shape (digital journalism). Above all, Ford is a voice—raw, unfiltered, and unapologetic—demanding that the world, and especially Jewish journalism, live up to its potential, even as he grapples with his own.
This portrait emerges from the text alone; his words are indeed the man, and they speak of someone as compelling as he is confounding.
