Scott Galloway argues that saving a brand like The Washington Post requires more than reinvention. The key is aggressive consolidation (e.g., merging with Bloomberg or NYT) to eliminate overhead and fix an unsustainable cost structure, possibly via a prepackaged bankruptcy.
In the social media era, long-form investigative journalism is a fundamentally unprofitable business. Legacy institutions like The Washington Post can only survive if a deep-pocketed benefactor views subsidizing its annual losses as a civic duty, similar to funding any other non-profit.
To transition their struggling magazine, the new owners of Campaigns & Elections immediately killed the print edition. This "burn the lifeboats" strategy created immense pressure and laser-like focus, forcing the team to innovate digitally without the safety net of a declining legacy product.
The Atlantic CEO took the job despite massive financial losses because the core product—the journalism—was exceptional. He believed a broken business model is far easier to fix than a mediocre product, making the high-risk turnaround feasible from the start.
Unlike the family-run New York Times or Wall Street Journal, The Washington Post suffers because its owner, Jeff Bezos, lacks a deep, obsessive passion for the news business. Thriving in modern media requires this "religious zeal" to establish a clear vision and navigate challenges, something a distracted billionaire owner cannot provide.
David Remnick, admitting he didn't know parentheses on a balance sheet meant losses, successfully pivoted The New Yorker to a subscription-first model. He identified the brand's deep reader loyalty as an untapped asset, correctly predicting it could outweigh declining ad revenue in a crucial move for legacy media.
Despite declining viewership, legacy media institutions like The New York Times and Washington Post remain critical because they produce the raw content and shape the narratives that fuel the entire digital ecosystem. They provide the 'coal' that other platforms burn for engagement, giving them unrecognized leverage.
Unlike Big Tech firms with nearly unlimited resources to fight legal battles, traditional media companies are financially weaker than ever. This economic vulnerability makes them susceptible to government pressure, as they often cannot afford the protracted litigation required to defend their First Amendment rights.
For legacy companies in declining industries, a massive, 'bet the ranch' acquisition is not an offensive growth strategy but a defensive, existential one. The primary motivation is to gain scale and avoid becoming the smallest, most vulnerable player in a consolidating market, even if it requires stretching financially.
The M&A failed because both telecom and media required massive, simultaneous investment to navigate their respective industry shifts. A single public company's balance sheet and investor base lacks the capital and patience to successfully execute two resource-intensive pivots in parallel, a crucial lesson for corporate strategy.
The high-stakes bidding war for Warner Bros. is seen as driven by media executives' desire to reclaim the news cycle, which has been dominated by politics and AI. The acquisitions are a strategy for regaining cultural relevance as much as they are about business consolidation.