{"id":192071,"date":"2026-06-09T16:30:28","date_gmt":"2026-06-10T00:30:28","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lukeford.net\/blog\/?p=192071"},"modified":"2026-06-09T19:03:19","modified_gmt":"2026-06-10T03:03:19","slug":"the-publisher-always-wins-a-jill-abramson-biography","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lukeford.net\/blog\/?p=192071","title":{"rendered":"The Publisher Always Wins – A Jill Abramson Biography"},"content":{"rendered":"

Jill Ellen Abramson (b. 1954)<\/a> stands at the center of the most consequential transition in modern American journalism, the passage from print dominance to digital survival. She becomes the first woman to run the newsroom of The New York Times<\/a><\/i>, holds the job for less than three years, and leaves in a firing that turns into a national argument about gender, power, and the limits of editorial authority. Her career runs through nearly every major crisis of the American press in her era: the Clarence Thomas confirmation, the Iraq weapons coverage, the Jayson Blair scandal, the collapse of the newspaper business model, and the rise of paid digital subscriptions. Few figures touch so many of these episodes from the inside.<\/p>\n

Abramson is born on March 19, 1954, in New York City and grows up in Manhattan in a Jewish family. Her father works in the textile business. She attends Harvard<\/a>, graduating in 1976 with a degree in history and literature, and works at Time<\/a><\/i> magazine while still a student. Her formation matters for everything that follows. She comes up as a reporter, not as a manager. Her professional identity rests on the gathering of facts, the cultivation of sources, and the long investigative project. When she later runs newsrooms, she runs them as a reporter who acquired authority, and the difference shows.<\/p>\n

After Harvard she joins The American Lawyer<\/a><\/i>, the legal publication that trains a generation of journalists to treat law firms, courts, and judges as institutions subject to scrutiny rather than deference. Her beats include courts, lawyers, political influence, and institutional accountability. In 1986 she becomes editor of Legal Times<\/i> in Washington, a position that gives her early lessons in newsroom management and a deep education in how legal and political systems operate away from public view. The legal press of the 1980s rewards a particular skill, the ability to read documents that others find tedious and to see the story buried in procedure. Abramson masters it.<\/p>\n

In 1988 she joins The Wall Street Journal<\/a><\/i> as an investigative reporter. Over the next decade she builds a national reputation for deeply sourced work on campaign finance, lobbying, and the federal government. The period favors her. Investigative journalism grows in importance to national political reporting, and the Journal<\/i> gives its investigative staff time and space that few outlets can match.<\/p>\n

Her reputation expands through her books. In 1994 she and Jane Mayer (b. 1955)<\/a> publish Strange Justice: The Selling of Clarence Thomas<\/i>, a study of the confirmation battle over Clarence Thomas (b. 1948)<\/a>. The book goes far beyond the Senate hearings. Abramson and Mayer revisit witness testimony, locate overlooked sources, and trace how the White House, Senate Republicans, and the confirmation machinery handled the allegations of Anita Hill (b. 1956)<\/a>. The authors argue that corroborating evidence existed and that the Senate Judiciary Committee<\/a> left investigative leads unpursued. The book becomes a finalist for major literary awards and places Abramson among the country’s leading investigative journalists. It also marks her as a journalist willing to challenge a sitting Supreme Court justice, a choice with permanent consequences for how political Washington views her.<\/p>\n

In 1997 Abramson joins The New York Times<\/i> as an investigative reporter. She rises fast, becoming Washington editor in 1999 and Washington bureau chief in 2000. Her bureau years span the disputed 2000 election, the September 11 attacks<\/a>, the launch of the War on Terror, and the run-up to the Iraq War<\/a>. The bureau chief of the Times<\/i> during such a period holds an office of national consequence, and Abramson holds it during the most contested stretch of coverage in the paper’s modern history.<\/p>\n

The defining episode of her Washington years concerns Iraqi weapons of mass destruction<\/a>. Reporter Judith Miller (b. 1948)<\/a> produces a series of influential articles that rest on sources connected to the exile leader Ahmed Chalabi (1944-2015)<\/a>. Miller enjoys unusual access to executive editor Howell Raines (b. 1943)<\/a> and sometimes bypasses ordinary editorial channels. Abramson and other Washington editors raise concerns about the reporting and its sourcing. When no weapons stockpiles appear, the episode becomes a deep wound in the paper’s reputation and feeds a broader debate about newsroom oversight and editorial accountability.<\/p>\n

The Miller affair sits inside a larger struggle between Abramson and Raines. Raines governs through what newsroom critics call a star system. He elevates favored reporters and bypasses traditional editing structures. Abramson represents the conventional model of newspaper management, with bureau authority, collaborative editing, and institutional process. The disagreement runs deeper than personality. Two visions of how a great newsroom should operate collide, and the collision determines careers.<\/p>\n

The dispute reaches its climax in 2003 with the scandal of Jayson Blair (b. 1976)<\/a>, who fabricates and plagiarizes material across dozens of stories despite warnings from editors and colleagues. Blair receives repeated support from senior leadership. The newsroom revolt that follows forces Raines from office. Abramson emerges with her reputation strengthened. She had stood for the procedural model that Raines dismantled, and the Blair scandal vindicates that model in the most public way possible.<\/p>\n

Executive editor Bill Keller (b. 1949)<\/a> names Abramson managing editor in 2003, the first woman to hold the position. Over eight years she helps supervise coverage of the Iraq War, Afghanistan, Hurricane Katrina, the 2008 financial crisis, and a string of presidential elections. She earns a reputation for intellectual rigor, exhaustive preparation, and demanding standards. Admirers call her relentless. Critics call her difficult and confrontational. Both judgments follow her for the rest of her career, and the question of whether male editors with identical traits draw identical judgments becomes part of her story.<\/p>\n

Less visible during these years is her work on the digital problem. As newspaper economics deteriorate, Abramson studies digital operations and pushes the institution to rethink its approach to technology, audience development, and social distribution. She helps create the conditions that produce the Innovation Report of 2014, the internal study that exposes the weakness of the paper’s digital strategy and becomes a touchstone document across the industry. The report shapes newsroom conversations far beyond West 43rd Street.<\/p>\n

In June 2011 publisher Arthur Ochs Sulzberger Jr. (b. 1951)<\/a> appoints Abramson executive editor, the first woman to hold the paper’s highest editorial position. The appointment carries enormous symbolic weight in a profession where senior leadership remains overwhelmingly male. Abramson now sits atop the most prestigious newsroom in the country at the moment of its greatest economic peril.<\/p>\n

As executive editor she attempts to balance two imperatives. She works to preserve the paper’s traditional strengths in reporting and editing while accelerating its adaptation to digital life. Digital subscriptions grow during her tenure. The paper expands its online presence, multimedia work, and mobile strategy. The journalism remains strong. The internal politics do not.<\/p>\n

Her tenure carries persistent tension. Some staff members praise her vision and question her management style. Others argue that the newsroom holds her to standards it never applied to male editors, that brusqueness in a man reads as command and in a woman reads as abrasion. The debate becomes a national media story and centers on gender, leadership, and newsroom culture as much as on Abramson herself.<\/p>\n

The crisis arrives in May 2014. Abramson learns that her compensation and retirement benefits differ from those of Keller, her predecessor, and she consults legal counsel about the discrepancy. At the same time she attempts to recruit Janine Gibson from The Guardian<\/a><\/i> for a senior digital leadership role. The move generates friction with managing editor Dean Baquet (b. 1956)<\/a>, who feels excluded from the discussions. Sulzberger concludes that Abramson’s management approach damages organizational cohesion and dismisses her on May 14, 2014.<\/p>\n

The firing becomes a controversial leadership change in modern media history, and observers split on its causes. Some see a management dispute. Others see a conflict over gender, authority, compensation, and institutional politics. The episode exposes the constitutional reality of the Times<\/i>. However powerful an executive editor appears, final authority rests with the publisher. Abramson tests that arrangement and loses.<\/p>\n

After the Times<\/i> she enters a new phase as author, teacher, and commentator. She joins the Harvard faculty and stays active in debates about the future of journalism. In 2019 she publishes Merchants of Truth: The Business of News and the Fight for Facts<\/i>, a comparative study of The New York Times<\/i>, The Washington Post<\/a><\/i>, BuzzFeed<\/a><\/i>, and Vice<\/a><\/i>. The book extends her long interest in how journalistic institutions adapt to technological and economic change. Shortly after publication, critics identify passages with inadequate attribution or close paraphrasing of previously published work. Abramson acknowledges the attribution errors, and later editions carry corrections. The controversy damages her because it touches the standards of sourcing and attribution she spent decades enforcing in others. The editor who policed the line stands accused of crossing it, and the irony writes itself into every account of her career.<\/p>\n

Abramson occupies a distinctive place in American journalism. She is an investigative reporter who became an institutional leader without losing her skepticism toward institutions. She helped expose the failures of the powerful and then fought power struggles inside her own organization, losing the last one. Her career spans the collapse of the traditional newspaper business model, the rise of digital journalism, the Iraq reporting crisis, the Blair scandal, the emergence of paid digital subscriptions, and the long argument over women in authority.<\/p>\n

She stands in history as both a pioneer and a transitional figure. She belongs to the generation that inherits the prestige of twentieth-century newspaper journalism and then faces the task of reinventing it for the twenty-first. Her rise shows what the old institution could still reward. Her fall shows what it could not yet tolerate, or what it tolerated only in men, depending on which account one believes. Either way, her achievements, conflicts, and controversies illuminate the transformation of American journalism, and no honest history of the period writes itself without her.<\/p>\n

The Editor Who Ran Out of Energy<\/strong><\/p>\n

Randall Collins<\/a> (b. 1941) argues that society runs on interaction rituals. People gather, focus attention on the same object, share a mood, and come away charged or drained. The charge is emotional energy, the basic currency of social life. People with high emotional energy feel confident, take initiative, and attract followers. People with low emotional energy hesitate, withdraw, and repel them. Careers are chains of these encounters. Each successful ritual stockpiles energy and membership symbols that the person carries into the next one. Each failed ritual depletes the stockpile. Power, in this account, is the capacity to be the focus of attention in ritual after ritual and to convert that attention into solidarity. Read Jill Abramson’s<\/a> career through this frame and the whole arc snaps into place, the rise, the peak, and the firing.<\/p>\n

Start with her formation. Abramson comes up through the legal trade press and The Wall Street Journal<\/a><\/i>, two environments with distinctive ritual economies. The legal press runs on document work, long solitary stretches broken by source meetings where the reporter and the lawyer trade information in low-key, two-person rituals. The Journal<\/i>‘s investigative culture runs the same way. The energizing encounters are small: the source who finally talks, the editor who clears the long project, the colleague who reads the draft. These rituals reward depth of focus over breadth of charm. They build a particular kind of journalist, one who draws energy from the story rather than from the room. Abramson masters this economy. Strange Justice<\/i> grows out of years of such encounters, and the book’s reception gives her a national membership symbol. She now carries the marker of the elite investigative reporter into every subsequent interaction, and the marker does work. People defer before she speaks.<\/p>\n

The Washington bureau years show her building chains at scale. A bureau chief presides over a daily ritual order: the morning call to New York, the story conference, the edit, the late close. These are repeated, rhythmic, focused gatherings, exactly what Collins says generates solidarity. Abramson runs them in the traditional mode. The bureau gathers, attention converges on the report, the mood is shared professional intensity, and the participants leave charged with membership in something that feels like the most important news bureau on earth. Her reporters fight for her because the rituals bind them to her. The chain works.<\/p>\n

Howell Raines<\/a> breaks the ritual order, and the break makes Abramson’s later rise possible. Raines governs through a star system. Collins gives us the vocabulary for what this means in practice. A star system concentrates the newsroom’s attention rituals on a few favored individuals. Judith Miller<\/a> gets direct access to the executive editor, which in ritual terms means she participates in the high-energy encounters at the center while her nominal editors stand outside the circle. Every newsroom interaction now sorts people into energy winners and energy losers. The favorites leave meetings charged. Everyone else leaves drained, because they assemble, focus attention, and receive nothing back. Collins calls these failed rituals, gatherings that consume energy instead of producing it. A newsroom can survive a few. Raines builds his administration on them.<\/p>\n

The Jayson Blair<\/a> scandal then triggers what Collins might call a ritual collapse. The town hall meeting in May 2003 is the famous scene, the newsroom assembled in a movie theater, Raines on stage, and the staff refusing to give him the deference that the ritual form demands. Attention focuses on him, but the shared mood turns hostile, and the encounter strips him of energy in front of everyone. A leader who loses energy in the central ritual of his own institution cannot recover, because every subsequent encounter starts from the memory of the last one. Within weeks he is gone. The revolt is not a vote or a verdict. It is a room full of people withdrawing emotional energy from one man at the same moment, and Collins would say that this withdrawal, not the publisher’s decision, is the real firing. The publisher only ratifies what the rituals have already decided.<\/p>\n

Abramson rises from the collapse because she embodies the ritual order Raines destroyed. Her promotion to managing editor restores the old economy: bureau authority, collaborative edits, process. For eight years under Bill Keller<\/a> the chains run well. She presides over the rituals of crisis coverage, Katrina<\/a>, the financial collapse, the elections, and crisis coverage is the most energizing ritual journalism has. Deadlines synchronize bodies. The story focuses attention. The newsroom leaves each cycle charged and bonded. Abramson sits near the center of these encounters and accumulates energy and symbols through them. By 2011 she carries the longest chain in the building.<\/p>\n

Then she takes the top job, and the ritual requirements change. Collins is clear that authority must be re-earned in every encounter. The executive editor of the Times<\/i> faces a brutal ritual schedule: the page one meeting, the masthead meeting, the publisher’s lunch, the encounters with desk heads, donors of attention all. Each one either generates solidarity or depletes it. The accounts of Abramson’s tenure read like a catalog of failed rituals. Subordinates describe meetings she cuts short, conversations conducted while looking at her phone, decisions announced rather than built. Whether these accounts are fair matters less, in this frame, than what they record: encounters where attention failed to converge, where the shared mood curdled, where people left with less energy than they brought. Each such meeting is a small withdrawal from her account. The withdrawals compound, because participants carry the memory into the next gathering and arrive already braced.<\/p>\n

The Janine Gibson recruitment is the terminal failed ritual. Abramson negotiates with Gibson outside the circle, and Dean Baquet<\/a> learns that a co-equal masthead role has been discussed without him. In Collins’s terms, the offense is exclusion from the central ritual. Baquet’s standing in the building rests on his participation in the encounters where the institution’s future gets decided. Discovering that those encounters happened without him strips the symbol of its value in one stroke. His energy and his loyalty go with it. And Baquet is not any subordinate. He is the alternative center, the man around whom a rival chain can form, and the newsroom’s energy begins flowing toward him.<\/p>\n

Sulzberger<\/a> fires Abramson when the rituals stop generating solidarity around her. Collins lets us state the cause without psychology. By May 2014 the encounters at the top of the Times<\/i> no longer produce shared mood, mutual focus, or collective effervescence. They produce friction, and friction radiates outward through the chains until the whole masthead runs at a deficit. A publisher cannot measure emotional energy, but he can feel it, in the meetings that go badly, in the lieutenants who stop volunteering, in the building’s hum. He removes the node where the chains keep breaking. The pay dispute and the Gibson affair are occasions. The ritual deficit is the cause.<\/p>\n

The same interactional style produces different emotional energy depending on who performs it. Energy in a ritual flows through expectations. When a male editor cuts a meeting short, participants read command, and command from a legitimate center charges the room. When a female editor performs the identical act, many participants read violation, and violation drains the room. The behavior is constant. The ritual outcome differs, because the outcome depends on what the assembled bodies expect from the person at the focus of attention. Abramson’s defenders say she behaved like Abe Rosenthal<\/a> and got fired for it. Her critics say the newsroom experienced her as cold. Collins says both are right and neither needs to lie. Rosenthal’s harshness generated energy because the ritual order of his era granted harsh men the center. Abramson’s harshness depleted energy because the ritual order of hers had not yet granted it to women. The injustice is real, and it lives in the micro-mechanics of the encounters, not in any single decision anyone can point to. That is what makes it so hard to litigate and so easy to deny.<\/p>\n

Stripped of the institutional ritual schedule, Abramson rebuilds chains where she can: the Harvard classroom, the lecture circuit, the book. Teaching is a reliable ritual, a room, a focus, a recurring rhythm, and it sustains her. Merchants of Truth<\/i> is an attempt to convert her remaining symbols into a new central position, the judge of the industry. The plagiarism charge wounds her because it attacks the symbol directly. Her membership marker reads elite standards, and the charge says the marker is counterfeit. In Collins’s economy, that is the one attack a long chain cannot absorb.<\/p>\n

Abramson rises on chains built in small rituals of investigative work, scales them through the bureau and the masthead, and inherits the top job with the largest energy stockpile in the building. The job then demands a ritual performance the building will not receive from her on the terms it received it from men, and the stockpile drains, encounter by encounter, until the publisher removes what the rituals have already rejected. She never loses an argument. She loses a thousand meetings.<\/p>\n

Strange Bedfellows at the Times<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

David Pinsof, David O. Sears, and Martie Haselton argue in “Strange Bedfellows: The Alliance Theory of Political Belief Systems”<\/a> that political beliefs do not flow from values. They flow from alliances. People choose allies on similarity, transitivity, and interdependence, then support those allies in conflicts with a fixed kit of propagandistic biases. Perpetrator biases shrink an ally’s transgressions, stress mitigating circumstances, and embellish good intentions. Victim biases inflate an ally’s grievances, deny the perpetrator’s excuses, and attribute his motives to malice. Attributional biases credit an ally’s advantages to talent and his disadvantages to mistreatment. The beliefs that result form patchwork narratives, stitched to fit the alliance rather than any principle, which explains why every coalition contradicts itself. The authors close with an observation that makes their paper a tool for biography. Office politics, they suggest, runs on the same machinery as national politics. Political parties resemble cliques. Ideologies resemble the two sides of a story that emerge from an interpersonal dispute. Trust your allies’ side of the story or lose your standing as an ally. Apply this to the New York Times newsroom between 1997 and 2014 and the career of Jill Abramson reads as a sequence of alliance formations, alliance maintenance, and one fatal alliance failure.
\nStart with the newsroom as an alliance structure, a network of supportive and antagonistic relationships. The Times of the early 2000s contains what the paper, following Chapais, calls all three alliance types. Howell Raines builds a bridging alliance, a pact between a high-ranking editor and selected lower-ranking stars, Judith Miller chief among them, that advances both at the expense of the middle. The displaced middle, the desk editors and bureau chiefs whose authority the star system bypasses, forms the material for a revolutionary alliance. Abramson becomes its leader. Note what Alliance Theory<\/a> says about her famous commitment to process, bureau authority, and collaborative editing. The commitment is real, but its content is not the point. Process is the banner of the coalition that process empowers. Editors who run bureaus believe in bureau authority for the same reason business owners believe in deregulation. The belief mobilizes support for the believer’s side. Had Abramson been one of Raines’s stars, the structure of her convictions might have differed, and the theory predicts she would have found principled language for that position too.
\nThe Jayson Blair scandal shows transitivity doing its work. Blair’s fabrications harm many parties, but the coalition that destroys Raines assembles on the ancient rule the paper cites, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Editors who disagree about everything else share a rival, and sharing a rival makes them allies. The post-revolt settlement rewards the revolutionary alliance. Bill Keller takes the top job and makes Abramson managing editor. Her elevation is coalition payment. She delivered the procedural faction, and the procedural faction now governs.
\nHer earlier career fits the frame just as well. Strange Justice, the book she writes with Jane Mayer, even shares a title structure with the Pinsof paper, and the confirmation fight it examines is alliance warfare in its purest form. The Thomas hearings split Washington into two coalitions, each running the full propagandistic kit. Thomas’s defenders deploy perpetrator biases, minimizing the alleged conduct, stressing mitigating circumstances, embellishing his character. Hill’s supporters deploy victim biases, emphasizing the harm, rejecting the excuses, attributing malice. Abramson and Mayer enter the conflict as elite members of what the paper calls the intellectual-elite coalition, the knowledge workers whose rivalry with business elites structures late twentieth-century American politics. Their book performs the highest-value service one can render an alliance. It supplies the coalition’s account of a contested event with documentation, sources, and prestige. The right reads the book as an attack because it is one, in the precise, non-pejorative sense the theory allows. All accounts of contested events are alliance products. Theirs was a careful one.
\nAlliance Theory<\/a> says allies must provide reliable benefits to hold an alliance together, and that allies must maintain transitivity, sharing friends and enemies, to avoid betrayal. As executive editor Abramson fails both tests with the one ally she cannot afford to lose. Dean Baquet’s alliance with her rests on interdependence. She provides him standing, inclusion, and a path to succession. He provides her the loyalty of the newsroom factions she cannot reach. The Janine Gibson recruitment cuts the benefit flow. A co-equal masthead position discussed without him signals that the alliance no longer pays, and an alliance that no longer pays dissolves. Worse, the move wrecks transitivity. Gibson arrives as Abramson’s ally and Baquet’s rival, which forces every player on the masthead to choose, and the structure resolves the way the theory predicts. Arthur Sulzberger Jr. runs the institution’s conservative alliance, the pact among high-ranking incumbents to preserve their rank. A conservative alliance values cohesion above any individual member. When the executive editor becomes the node where the structure keeps fracturing, the alliance ejects the node and retains the rank. Sulzberger keeps Baquet, who holds more ties, and drops Abramson, who holds fewer. The decision requires no theory of her management style. It requires only arithmetic.
\nWithin hours of the firing, two patchwork narratives form, and people adopt them by coalition rather than by evidence, since almost no one outside the building holds any evidence. Abramson’s coalition, feminists, many journalists, the intellectual-elite left, runs victim biases on her behalf. The firing becomes discrimination, the pay discrepancy becomes proof, the management complaints become the eternal language used against women who command. The institution’s coalition runs perpetrator biases on behalf of the Times. The pay gap shrinks to a difference in package composition, the firing’s cause migrates to mitigating circumstances, Sulzberger’s intentions get embellished into a painful duty. Attributional biases sort the same way. Her allies credit her achievements to talent and her fall to mistreatment. Her rivals reverse the polarity. The theory’s sharpest claim is that both camps deploy these biases sincerely. Motivated reasoning, the paper argues, works as an honest signal of loyalty. A journalist who declines to trust her coalition’s side of the Abramson story risks her standing in the coalition, and the doubt itself reads as defection. This is why the May 2014 argument never resolves. It is not an argument over facts. It is two alliances each performing the support that membership requires.
\nThe Merchants of Truth episode extends the pattern. The book judges the digital-native outlets, Vice and BuzzFeed, by the standards of the legacy coalition and finds them wanting. The plagiarism charge then arrives from inside the judged coalition. A Vice correspondent, Michael Moynihan, documents the lifted passages. Alliance Theory<\/a> does not say the charge is false. The passages are real, and Abramson concedes the attribution failures. The theory says instead that prosecution intensity tracks alliance structure. The digital coalition she ranked as inferior prosecutes hardest, her old legacy allies mitigate, and her own defense runs textbook perpetrator bias, minimizing severity, calling lifted passages citation errors, stressing intentions. The woman who spent decades running victim biases on behalf of plagiarized writers and deceived readers now runs perpetrator biases on behalf of herself, and the paper would call this no hypocrisy at all. The kit is fixed. Only the ally changes, and the self is everyone’s first ally.
\nAbramson’s defenders and critics both treat her case as a referendum on a principle, equal treatment of women in authority. Alliance Theory<\/a> suggests the principle entered the fight as ammunition, the way equality always enters fights, as a tactic mobilizing support for a disadvantaged ally. The test the paper proposes is substitution. Swap the disadvantaged party and watch the principle migrate. Many who found her firing outrageous shrugged at fired men with identical complaints, and many who found her firing routine treat lesser slights as scandals when the sufferer belongs to their side. None of this means the gender claim is wrong. The pay numbers and the leadership data exist independent of anyone’s biases. It means the people arguing about it on both sides argued as allies first and analysts second, which is what the theory says people are.
\nRead through Alliance Theory<\/a>, Abramson’s career loses its tragic shape and gains a structural one. She masters coalition politics for thirty years, rides a revolutionary alliance to the masthead, and serves the intellectual-elite coalition as one of its premier narrative producers. Then, holding the top job, she neglects the two maintenance rules the theory treats as primary. She stops paying her key ally, and she imports a new ally who shares her friends but not his. The structure does the rest. The Times never had to decide whether she was a good editor. It only had to count ties, and she had stopped counting hers.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Jill Ellen Abramson (b. 1954) stands at the center of the most consequential transition in modern American journalism, the passage from print dominance to digital survival. She becomes the first woman to run the newsroom of The New York Times, … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[20,169],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-192071","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-journalism","category-new-york-times"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lukeford.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/192071","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lukeford.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lukeford.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lukeford.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lukeford.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=192071"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/lukeford.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/192071\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":192092,"href":"https:\/\/lukeford.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/192071\/revisions\/192092"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lukeford.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=192071"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lukeford.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=192071"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lukeford.net\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=192071"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}