The Cousins Kismet

One morning last week, Saturday Review Executive Editor Ronald P Kriss strolled into what he thought would be a routine conference. He was greeted by an apology from his boss, SR Chairman and Editor in Chief Nicolas Charney, who said that he had been unable to reach his second in command the night before. "Oh, really?" Kriss replied. "What's up?" Then Charney broke the news: Publication would cease immediately, and the company would seek reorganization under the federal bankruptcy statute. The innovative enterprise started 17 months ago, in which the old weekly was converted into four specialized monthlies, had been a total financial failure.

Later that morning, the assembled staff was told. Champagne to soothe the shock was provided in paper cups. But the news had been expected for so long that some staffers expressed relief "At least we know now," said Senior Editor Douglas Gasner "It's over "

Not exactly During a recent desperate search for additional financing (TIME, April 2), Charney and his partner John Veronis had approached a number of large publishing and communications corporations. "What we needed," says Charney, "was a corporate shield to survive. We needed someone to take us on so that Madison Avenue would say, 'O.K., here's an institution, here's stability.' "

What they got instead last week was an institution of a different sort--Norman Cousins, the editor of the old Saturday Review for 31 years. He had resigned late in 1971 in protest against the expansive plans that the new owners, Charney and Veronis, had dreamed up for the magazine. If SR creditors approve, Cousins will acquire the titles and unexpired subscriptions of the four Saturday Review monthlies. These, and some of SR's recent features, will be merged with Cousins' World, the biweekly he founded after leaving SR. The new title: Saturday Review/World. He plans to offer by early summer regular supplements on science and education. SR's other two monthly titles, The Society and The Arts, says Cousins, "are really covered by our general concept."

For Cousins, 60, the turn of events seemed like a kind of kismet. He had invested most of his professional life in SR and was bitter about surrendering it to two hot entrepreneurs younger than he (Charney is now 31; Veronis is 45). In exile, Cousins was bearish about the prospects of the Charney-Veronis enterprise. Events seem to have vindicated his acumen. "The reason that I left the Saturday Review" he said last week, "was that its fragmentation into four monthlies was not a sound intellectual concept. How could it then be a good business concept?" If Cousins was elated at his new prospects, some SR staffers in San Francisco found his ascendancy distasteful. "Norman Cousins went out of his way to kill us," charged one top editor. "He bad-mouthed us to advertisers at every opportunity."

Such bad-mouthing would have been superfluous; advertisers had their own negative ideas. The Charney-Veronis brashness aroused much resentment on Madison Avenue. "The advertising fraternity wanted them to fail," says a New York adman. "Above all, there were a lot of people who thought those two guys did not belong in the magazine business and ought to get out of it." Admits Charney: "Madison Avenue and potential backers had a hard time realizing what Saturday Review was, or should be."

In fact, the changeover from a general-interest weekly to four specialized monthlies confused readers and advertisers. The transformation involved huge costs for hiring staffs, redesigning the format and staging promotion campaigns. The editorial operation was lifted from New York to San Francisco, apparently at Charney's whim, at a cost of more than $500,000. Overall, the operation consumed nearly $16 million, and last week liabilities exceeded assets by $1.5 million.

Success demanded a rapid buildup of affluent readers under 40 whom advertisers consider their most desirable audience. While circulation of the four monthlies ranged between 600,000 and 750,000, it lagged behind the guarantees used in selling ads. Advertising pages declined from 1,575 in 1971, to 1,408 last year.

SR editors refuse to blame the debacle on the magazines themselves. "Editorial quality had nothing to do with this equation," Kriss maintains. Within the limits imposed by the four separate topics, the editors did attract some offbeat, incisive articles; they gave specialists like Sociologist Daniel Bell and Education Reformer Ivan Illich access to a large readership. SR's graphics improved mightily, and each magazine boasted a strong review section. Still, the clear new identity sought for each of the monthlies never took shape.

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