Editor’s Letter
One of the oldest surviving publications in Canada is a 135-year- old trade magazine called Canadian Grocer. A chronicle of the food industry, it offers news of suppliers and supermarkets as well as industry trends. Although it’s never been a household name, I’ve often thought of it as a model magazine. It’s not known for its flashy headlines or the parties it hosts at film festivals — although it would be fun if it did. It has survived because, for 135 years, there has remained a market for it.
At this point, like many journalists, I seem to have worked for more influential publications that have folded (Saturday Night, FQ, Lucky) than are still around. What’s sunk in is that titles endure not because of the brilliance of their ideas but due to the solidity of their financing. We tend to associate successful publications with creativity and innovation, whether it’s a digital outlet like Buzzfeed or a legacy brand like the Harvard Business Review. But editors — even celebrities, like Vogue’s Anna Wintour or Monocle’s Tyler Brûlé — have always had to be equal parts creative and entrepreneurial. Even The New Yorker, which many look to as one of the world’s greatest magazines, has struggled at various points in its nearly 100-year history to find readers and revenue. In recent years, it’s been able to leverage its international reputation to good effect. Today, The New Yorker is one of the few publications in the US to declare a profit with a combined print- and digital-subscription strategy. They say content is king, but its reign would be impotent without an adequate business model.
The Walrus has been able to offset the financial challenges faced by many other publications through a nonprofit structure and revenue from departments such as The Walrus Talks and The Walrus Lab. But, as it has done to virtually every industry, the pandemic has disrupted our work. If you’re a subscriber, you already know that we took the serious decision to reduce the frequency of our print publication from ten issues to eight in 2020. Looking at the economic uncertainties of the year ahead, my colleagues and I have made the preemptive decision to keep a print schedule of eight issues in 2021.
I can’t predict what will happen in 2022, but I want to be transparent about what it takes to run an enterprise like ours. My colleagues and I are invested in making a version of The Walrus that will be around for at least a hundred years, not one that enjoyed a good run and then flamed out. To that end, we have responded to the immense social, economic, and political changes of the past year — and to the proliferation of misinformation and the need for in-depth reporting during the pandemic — by creating the most relevant, timely version of The Walrus we can. That purpose will continue to drive us in 2021.
As we send this issue to press, parts of Canada are under lockdown; it’s no coincidence that a number of stories in this issue reflect a theme of borders and freedom. In “Quitting America,” M. E. Rogan takes up a question many have considered over the past four years: What does it mean to be a Canadian citizen versus an American one? In “When Qanon Came to Canada,” Matthew Remski reports on the spread of a wide-ranging political and cultural conspiracy theory — a phenomenon that suggests the public imagination has no limits, geographical or otherwise. In “Crossing the Line,” Hilary Beaumont looks at how the increased use of artificial intelligence could shape travel and immigration, addressing now familiar concerns about personal privacy and surveillance technology in the digital age.
In a back-page interview, “Ask an Economist,” University of Victoria economics professor Rob Gillezeau offers his analysis on the impact of lockdowns. This new column was developed by The Walrus head of research Erin Sylvester and our fact-checking department in response to the recognition that our network of academics and experts includes thinkers with original approaches to the world’s biggest problems. If you have questions about current issues relating to health care, politics, the climate crisis, the arts — or, why not, even how to run a magazine — send them to pitch@thewalrus.ca with “Ask an Expert” in the subject line.
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“Comedy is probably the hardest genre to get right as a practitioner because what makes people laugh is extremely personal. You go back to the things you like. At the time that I started working on this story, I didn’t know Meredith Macneill was a trained theatre actress — my exposure to her had been through totally wacky, off-the-wall comedy such as the cbc’s Baroness von Sketch Show. I was curious about how she would fit into an established genre such as a sitcom. But, over the course of my reporting, I realized she doesn’t fit anywhere, which sort of means she fits everywhere.”
Soraya Roberts is a freelance writer and the culture editor of Pipe Wrench, a new bimonthly online magazine.