For a certain type of tech executive, and a certain type of fan of tech executives, the point of technology journalism is to cheerfully show off the cool new toys Silicon Valley creates.

For the staff of Wired, the point of technology journalism is to hold the most powerful companies and people in our society accountable for the decisions they make. That has made the magazine remarkably unpopular with many people in the tech world (including newly minted trillionaire Elon Musk) and more popular than ever with everyone else: the magazine added more than two hundred thousand subscribers in the past year.

Tim Marchman, Wired’s senior director of science, politics, and security, loves accountability journalism and has a particular fondness for scoops showing the tight ties between our government and Bay Area tech leaders. With his colleague Leah Feiger, the senior politics editor at Wired, Marchman dramatically expanded the magazine’s politics staff and oversaw its award-winning coverage of how Musk and a group of teenagers ran a buzzsaw through the federal government, and what havoc they wreaked in the name of “efficiency.”

Earlier this month, I interviewed Marchman at Jimmy’s Corner during an event to celebrate the release of CJR’s new special issue, about what access means in journalism today. Listen below to hear him discuss why going hard on politics was a natural choice for a tech magazine, explain how his team got so many scoops about DOGE, and respond to the haters.

Show Notes:

A 25-Year-Old with Elon Musk Ties Has Direct Access to the Federal Payment System, Vittoria Elliott, Dhruv Mehrotra, Leah Feiger, and Tim Marchman, Wired.

The Young, Inexperienced Engineers Aiding Elon Musk’s Government Takeover, Vittoria Elliott, Wired.

Inside Elon Musk’s ‘Digital Coup,’ Makena Kelly, David Gilbert, Vittoria Elliott, Kate Knibbs, Dhruv Mehrotra, Dell Cameron, Tim Marchman, Leah Feiger, Zoë Schiffer, Wired.

Credits:

Host: Megan Greenwell
Producer: Amanda Darrach
Audio engineer: Fernando Fermino
Video technician: Alex Hamm

One of the most fascinating sports business stories of the moment is the explosive growth of the WNBA. TV viewership is up dramatically, multiple teams sell out regularly, and stars like Caitlin Clark and A’ja Wilson have become household names. This year, the players’ union won a groundbreaking new contract, including their first-ever revenue share and a 4x jump in minimum salaries.

The league’s recent surge in popularity has also brought new questions of access. The WNBA was the only major pro league that didn’t reopen its locker rooms to reporters after COVID closures, and many media outlets have clamored for a way to talk to players that doesn’t require going through team PR. The Indiana Fever stripped a press credential from a longtime beat writer after disagreeing with his framing of a Clark injury. For years, women’s basketball was enough of a backwater that journalists had more or less free rein; now everyone is trying to figure out what meaningful coverage looks like in a transformed world.

Last week, as part of a special daylong event tied to the release of CJR’s new Access Issue, Sports Illustrated staff writer Emma Baccellieri—one of the best reporters out there focusing on women’s sports—stopped by to talk about how covering the league has changed. I interviewed her about how her job has evolved, why it’s more difficult than ever to ask questions of WNBA players, and what’s happening with college players getting paid through name, image, and likeness (NIL) deals. Listen below—or wherever you get your podcasts.

Show notes:

For Veterans Like Alysha Clark, This New WNBA Era Just Means More, Emma Baccellieri, Sports Illustrated

Should We Be Worried About Caitlin Clark and the Fever? Clare Brennan, Dan Falkenheim, Blake Silverman, Emma Baccellieri, Sports Illustrated

Expect Officiating to Be a Recurring Storyline During This WNBA Season, Emma Baccellieri, Sports Illustrated

Fever reporter claims credential revoked over Clark reporting, Michael Voepel, ESPN

Megan Greenwell, host
Amanda Darrach, producer
Fernando Fermino, audio engineer
Alex Hamm, video technician

Some of the most interesting journalism experiments aren’t taking place on the websites of publications. Instead, they’re happening on Facebook and WhatsApp and Reddit and WeChat and even Nextdoor, which I didn’t realize was anything other than a place for Karens to complain about loitering.

Documented, an eight-year-old digital outlet that covers and serves immigrants in New York City and beyond, is behind many of these experiments—from producing a Chinese-language newsletter on WeChat to starting conversations on Nextdoor with Haitian Creole speakers in Flatbush, Brooklyn. In her first eighteen months at Documented, Ethar El-Katatney, the editor in chief, has elevated the publication’s investigative work and begun an expansion into video, but she refuses to lose sight of the mission: to give immigrants the information they need on the platforms they use.

I interviewed El-Katatney about the common threads between Documented’s guides to city living and its long investigations, how differently her reporters work depending on what community they serve, and why Documented is expanding its ambitions to help other newsrooms.

Show notes:

Documented Gears Up for Trump, Lauren Watson, CJR

The Lost Prisoners of Chinatown’s Gang Era, April Xu, Documented

Fake Immigration Courts Take Advantage of Immigrants Desperate for Answers, Rommel H. Ojeda, Documented.

Guide of Resources for Immigrants, Nicolás Ríos, Documented

Megan Greenwell, host

Amanda Darrach, producer

When Ronald Reagan won the presidency, in 1980, it was a victory long in the making. For almost half a century, conservatives had plotted ways to cut taxes and undo workers’ rights. Their playbook for political influence went something like this: create a think tank, publish reputable reports, build relationships with journalists and politicians, and disseminate free-market ideas to the public, creating a new common sense.

Today, the art of political influence is rather different. Think tanks no longer claim the power they once did and, since the rise of social media, newspapers and traditional journalists have lost their grip on public opinion. Perhaps this new state of affairs was best captured by Elon Musk when, shortly after taking over Twitter, in 2023, he declared that all press inquiries would receive an automated reply with the poop emoji. That is not the move of someone who believes the press is an essential tool in influencing public opinion.

In this episode of the Journalism 2050 podcast, cohosts Emily Bell and Heather Chaplin are joined by two guests: Kim Phillips-Fein is a renowned historian of American conservatism and capitalism and the author of Invisible Hands: The Making of the Conservative Movement from the New Deal to Reagan, among other books. Samuel Earle is the author of Tory Nation: The Dark Legacy of the World’s Most Successful Political Party and a PhD candidate at Columbia Journalism School. Together, they ask: How has the nature of political influence changed? What are the implications for journalism? And what, if anything, can the left learn from the right’s success?

Producer: Amanda Darrach
Research: Samuel Earle
Production Assistant: Riddhi Setty
Art Director: Katie Kosma
Illustrator: Aaron Fernandez
Music: Henry Crooks

“WHOA. Ohhhh. Freaking huge,” one of my favorite recent news videos opens. Emily Sweeney, a Boston Globe reporter, stands in the Museum of Fine Arts, gazing up at a thirteen-foot-tall, thirteen-thousand-pound Roman sculpture. Sweeney can’t hide her awe at seeing the statue the museum calls Juno, but that Sweeney knows from her teenage years as Gloria.

Until a month ago, Sweeney was a rank-and-file breaking news reporter and the author of three books about Boston, her hometown. On March 31, though, her video about a dramatic home invasion at an estate north of the city made her a bona fide viral star. Dressed in a navy Adidas track jacket, with spiky platinum-blond hair and two silver hoops in each ear, she looks and sounds like the Platonic ideal of a native Bostonian, dropping R’s like they’re poisonous. Nearly three thousand people, including Ava DuVernay, the director, chimed in on Instagram, many of them saying they wanted more Sweeney videos. More than ninety-six thousand liked the video on TikTok. The Globe listened: Sweeney is now a regular on the paper’s social platforms—always in a different track jacket, always reading the news in that thick Boston accent.

I talked to Sweeney about thinking she couldn’t be on camera because she doesn’t have the right look, her obsession with the weirdest parts of her hometown’s history, and what she’s learned about building relationships with readers. Listen below, or wherever you get your podcasts.

Show notes:

“What’s the story behind this statue at the MFA?” Emily Sweeney, Boston Globe, Instagram video

“What we know about the mysterious Beverly mansion robbery.” Emily Sweeney, Boston Globe, Instagram video

Dropkick Murphy: A Legendary Life. Emily Sweeney.


Megan Greenwell, host

Amanda Darrach, producer

Before Elon Musk, there was Henry Ford: an attention-seeking car manufacturer, newspaper owner, and media celebrity who pushed reactionary views on the public and transformed society around his business interests. “Fordism” was more than a mode of production, it was a way of organizing society, involving large factories, nuclear families, stable employment, and affordable cars, refrigerators, and televisions.

In a new book, Muskism, Ben Tarnoff, a technology writer, and Quinn Slobodian, a historian at Boston University, analyze Musk in similar terms, as a maverick businessman who stands for a new type of society and a new social contract. They find that “Muskism” provides a far more dystopian package than Fordism’s offering. It is a world of strict and unforgiving hierarchies where governments exist in symbiotic relationship with Silicon Valley, social welfare erodes, and Musk is a self-appointed “techno-king.” Want safety or stability? Buy a Cybertruck.

In this episode of the Journalism 2050 podcast, Tarnoff and Slobodian join cohosts Emily Bell and Heather Chaplin to discuss Muskism’s vision of society, where it came from, and what the implications for journalism are. What does Muskism offer the public besides dystopia? How did Musk’s purchase of Twitter fit into his plans? What does journalism free from Muskism look like?

Producer: Amanda Darrach

Production Coordinator: Hana Joy

Research: Samuel Earle

Art Director: Katie Kosma

Illustrator: Aaron Fernandez

Music: Henry Crooks

I have a galaxy-brained theory that the most effective fundraisers in the country aren’t politicians or the heads of major foundations, but a pair of Atlanta-based college football bloggers.

Two decades ago, Spencer Hall—best known as the creator of Every Day Should Be Saturday, a site covering college football with a mix of analytical skills and many inside jokes—decided to raise money for refugees in the Atlanta area. Hall had worked for a refugee services organization before pivoting to writing, so he put out the call to his readers and raised a few thousand dollars. After a couple of years of this, he and Holly Anderson, his fellow blogger, had an idea: Why not use college football rivalries to raise even more money? There’s nothing fans love more than destroying their most hated opponent, they figured, so they’d make the fundraiser a competition. Fans began donating in honor of their favorite team, often choosing the amount based on a significant number, like the score of a big game. The Charitbundi Bowl was born. The fundraiser continued after Vox Media bought Every Day Should Be Saturday, and after Hall and Anderson left the company, in 2020.

To say their plan worked would be a comic understatement. Last year, Hall and Anderson—who now run a subscription-based college football site called Channel 6—raised more than 1.3 million dollars for New American Pathways, becoming its largest nongovernmental source of funds. The 2026 event, which runs through this weekend, crossed the million-dollar mark Wednesday evening. (You can donate to support your favorite team—real or fictional—here and see the leaderboard here.)

I talked to Hall about his career from independent blogger to SB Nation editorial director and back again, being dismissed by Vox Media as “too niche,” and what it takes for a publication’s readership to become a real community. Listen below, or wherever you get your podcasts.

Show notes:

How we got here. Spencer Hall, Channel 6

EDSBS Charity Bowl FAQ

New American Pathways

2026 EDSBS Charity Bowl Bluesky Feed

Megan Greenwell, host

Amanda Darrach, producer

I’ve spent my entire professional career in journalism, but student publications are still my favorite news outlets. I broke the biggest story of my life for my high school newspaper, and I find something so infectious about the energy of students who aren’t yet jaded about the industry or the job market, who just want to write about topics that matter to their peers. Us pros can learn a lot from them.

Eric Gustafson is one of the few people I’ve ever spoken to whose passion for student journalism rivals my own. A longtime journalist, he took over the journalism program at Lowell High, a prestigious San Francisco public school, in 2017. Last year, after a couple of controversial stories about student drug use, teacher sexual harassment, and AI grading—including one that the student paper, The Lowell, never even published—he was removed from the role. California, Gustafson knew, has one of the strongest laws in the country protecting the independence of student journalists and their advisers. He sued his employer, and he won: his reassignment was illegal, a state superior court found.

In this episode, I talk to Gustafson about The Lowell’s steady stream of major stories, his decision to sue, the backlash from his colleagues, and why student journalism matters. Listen below—or wherever you get your podcasts.

Show notes:

Obtainable and addictive. Isadore Diamond and Clarabelle Fields, The Lowell

Invasive and inappropriate. Ramona Jacobson, Serena Miller, and Dakota Colussi, The Lowell

Know your student press rights. The Student Press Law Center

Final judgment, Eric Gustafson v. San Francisco Unified School District. Superior Court for California for the County of San Francisco

Judge rules that Lowell High School journalism teacher’s reassignment was illegal. Jill Tucker, San Francisco Chronicle

Lowell students open up about experiences with math teacher Tom Chan. Milena Garrone and Amálie Cimala, The Lowell

Megan Greenwell, host

Amanda Darrach, producer