managers, on notice that they must reject what he called the “comfort factor” of hiring and promoting only white men. He set up committees to examine diversity in all its permutations at the Times, on both the editorial and the business side, scrutinizing everything from salaries to career paths. Training was key, he believed. In a strong endorsement of cultural relativism, Sulzberger declared, “We are all going to have to understand [differences]. Be aware of them, know what they mean, understand that we don’t all see the world or a moment in time in the same way.”
This fixation translated into a number of high-profile hiring, promotion and assignment decisions that reverberated across every news desk in the newsroom. To enhance minority hiring at lower levels, Max Frankel, functioning as Sulzberger’s de facto diversity officer, instituted what he would refer to as his “own little
quota plan,” based on “one-for-one” hiring—one minority for one white male—“until the numbers get better,” as Frankel put it in 1991.
In short order, blacks and Latinos were appointed bureau chiefs, national reporters and foreign correspondents; the number of racial-minority desk editors increased as well. Eventually the Times would institute a minorities-only internship program. Sulzberger cleared the way for Gerald Boyd to be named the paper’s first Metro editor, and later for him to become one of the paper’s assistant managing editors, which made him the first black ever on the Times masthead and put him on track to be considered for the paper’s executive editorship.
Under Sulzberger’s leadership, the Times developed new beats to reflect multicultural change and boosted the importance of certain beats already in existence, allowing some to become vehicles for ethnic and racial advocacy. Sulzberger was adroit at telegraphing his diversity priority through his monthly “Publisher’s Award.” The recipients of the cash award were well balanced by race, ethnicity, gender and sexual orientation, while the subject matter of the stories was in keeping with the new multicultural orthodoxy.
Arthur Jr.’s vision of diversity encompassed a more expanded role for women. In some early speeches he made the highly symbolic gesture of using “she” as a general pronoun. He also made no secret of his close association with Anna Quindlen, the op-ed columnist who became an unofficial part of his brain trust and was, many thought, on track to become a top editor.
Sulzberger also encouraged more open attitudes toward gays, a sharp break from what were increasingly portrayed in newsroom culture as the bad old days of Abe Rosenthal, who felt it best for gays to stay in the closet. In a videotaped speech he sent to the 1992 National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Convention, Sulzberger affirmed newsroom identity politics when he said, “We can no longer offer our readers a white, straight male vision of events and say we are doing our job.” In that same speech, he declared he wanted the Times to extend company benefits to same-sex couples. Afterward, he let it be known that those who discriminated
against gays would risk losing their jobs. Even before he became publisher, Sulzberger, in league with Max Frankel, also got his father to drop his opposition to the use of the term “gay” in news reports. Sulzberger Jr. met with openly gay staff members and assured them times had changed. He committed considerable company resources to underwrite panel discussions and job fairs sponsored by the National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association, and made sure the Times sent sizable delegations to NLGJA conventions and other events.
Accelerated minority hiring and promotions rankled some of the old guard, who complained that some of the blacks, Latinos and women were being moved into senior leadership positions years before they were ready. Others bristled at a generally antagonistic atmosphere, which Peter Boyer, a former