Reader's Digest may not long survive. We should mourn.
The American parent of the world's bestselling general interest magazine said this week it would seek bankruptcy protection. The Digest is cutting its guaranteed circulation in the United States from eight million copies to 5.5 million, and from 12 issues a year to 10.
Reader's Digest Canada and other global operations are not affected, and the U.S. parent is expected to survive through a debt-for-equity swap. But a magazine that is already a shadow of its former self is clearly fading away.
I love Reader's Digest, which is a deeply unfashionable thing for any respectable journalist to say. Most reporters look down on its simplistic conservative politics, its relentlessly middle-brow approach and, most of all, its editorial policy of publishing condensed versions of longer articles from other magazines.
Except that nine out of 10 of those snooty reporters couldn't meet the Digest's standards of clarity, brevity and focus if their careers depended on it. And critics of the magazine fail to recognize its profound contribution to the rise of the middle class in the 20th century.
A writer at the National Review once observed that Reader's Digest was Google before there was Google. Since its founding in 1922, its editors have trolled through publications in search of articles on everything from government waste to the virtues of cranberry juice, and then condensed their choices for the magazine, accompanied by original articles from staff and freelancers.
Yes, the format is formulaic – the old drama-in-real-life articles all seemed to begin the same way: “It was a warm and sunny afternoon as Bonny Smith wheeled her station wagon onto a quiet suburban street in Pleasantville …” – but the formula worked.
Yes, its editorial slant is conservative – it was a big fan of the Shah of Iran and too many other dictators who happened to be on the West's side during the Cold War – but its relentless anti-communism, while excessive at home, was completely appropriate when confronting the horrors of Mao Zedong or the Soviet empire.
In 1982, Susan Sontag ignited a furor among the liberal intelligentsia with this observation: “Imagine, if you will, someone who read only Reader's Digest between 1950 and 1970, and someone in the same period who read only The Nation or The New Statesman. Which reader would have been better informed about the realities of communism? The answer, I think, should give us pause. Can it be that our enemies were right?”
Most important, Reader's Digest helped educate the new middle class. Millions of men and women emerged from the Great Depression and the Second World War with little schooling and a tremendous thirst for knowledge.
The Digest provided them with a solid grounding in politics, economics, social policy and personal health. As their incomes and family size grew, thanks to North America's thriving manufacturing economy, the Digest grew with them, peaking at a U.S. circulation of 18 million in the 1970s.
Every issue, it seemed, had an article promoting a new diet, and every diet was the same: Eat sensibly and exercise. The Digest was among the first to warn that cigarettes caused cancer. It exposed corruption and waste in government, and laxity in the courts. It warned of the evils of inflation and government debt.
But more than anything else, it preached a vital message: Things can and will get better if you apply yourself. You can lose that weight. You can get that job. You can save your marriage. You can overcome this tragedy.
But first you need to assume responsibility for your body, your character, your future. People who embrace this message lead good lives.
Globalization is killing the well-paying, semi-skilled job. The blue-collar middle class is disappearing. The Internet is a tremendous knowledge resource for some, a source of porn for many others. A few years ago, I discovered a typographical error in a Reader's Digest article. I had never seen such a thing before.
I am a hypocrite when it comes to the Digest. I don't subscribe, but my parents do, and part of coming home is flaking on the sofa and going through the back issues, while sipping a cup of tea and nibbling Velveeta cheese.
Velveeta cheese is probably endangered, too.
