Does the New York Times actually want anyone to read Angelina Jolie's piece?

If the NYT wants to ensure its pieces are never sullied by the corrupting eye of a reader, it can lock them in lead-lined boxes and drop them in the Hudson. But if it wants to help Angelina Jolie in her mission to spread awareness about breast cancer, it

The New York Times is famous for being either serious or boring, depending on your viewpoint. It's not nicknamed "the Grey Lady" ("referring to its historical tendency to present a higher-than-usual proportion of copy to graphics") for nothing, and at heart this comes from a praiseworthy aim: to never put commercial considerations above editorial ones. That motivation drives the decision to avoid flashy graphics as much as it drives the courage to run an 8,000 word piece exposing corruption in one of the world's biggest companies (and one of America's biggest advertisers).

But sometimes it goes too far. Here is the New York Times' front page today. See if you can spot the story they have which is driving conversation worldwide, and which, doubtless, a huge number of their readers have come to their site to read:

In case you aren't sure, it's this one:

Angelina Jolie's decision to write about her double mastectomy, performed after discovering that she has a genetic marker which vastly increases the chance that she will develop breast or ovarian cancer, has been rightly hailed. Not only does it serve to spread awareness about the genetic test she took (one which can provide an early warning to women like Jolie with a family history of certain types of cancer), but it will help destigmatise her operation – still one which, for many, strikes at the heart of their identity.

Getting that piece read by as many people as possible isn't crass commercialism, it's an inherent part of the paper's implicit bargain with Jolie. There is no point in writing a piece to spread awareness and then burying it on the front page under a vague headline and a six-word sub-head.

That's not to say that the piece needs to be headlined MY BREAST CANCER HORROR and be accompanied by glamorous full-colour photos of Jolie; but it needs to be findable in a way that it simply isn't at the moment.

Good site design, just like good internet-friendly headlines (another thing painfully lacking at the paper) isn't editorial cravenly bowing to the demands of its marketing department; it is there to ensure that people who want to read stories can actually read them.

If the NYT wants to ensure its pieces are never sullied by the corrupting eye of a reader, it can lock them in lead-lined boxes and drop them in the Hudson. But if it wants to help Jolie in her mission to spread awareness and "open a conversation", it needs to get over itself.

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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Daniel Hannan harks back to the days of empire - the Angevin Empire

Did the benign rule of some 12th century English kings make western France vote Macron over Le Pen?

I know a fair amount about British politics; I know a passable amount about American politics, too. But, as with so many of my fellow Britons, in the world beyond that, I’m lost.

So how are we, the monolingual Anglophone opinionators of the world, meant to interpret a presidential election in a country where everyone is rude enough to conduct all their politics in French?

Luckily, here’s Daniel Hannan to help us:

I suppose we always knew Dan still got a bit misty eyed at the notion of the empire. I just always thought it was the British Empire, not the Angevin one, that tugged his heartstrings so.

So what exactly are we to make of this po-faced, historically illiterate, geographically illiterate, quite fantastically stupid, most Hannan-y Hannan tweet of all time?

One possibility is that this was meant as a serious observation. Dan is genuinely saying that the parts of western France ruled by Henry II and sons in the 12th century – Brittany, Normandy, Anjou, Poitou, Aquitaine – remain more moderate than those to the east, which were never graced with the touch of English greatness. This, he is suggesting, is why they generally voted for Emmanuel Macron over Marine Le Pen.

There are a number of problems with this theory. The first is that it’s bollocks. Western France was never part of England – it remained, indeed, a part of a weakened kingdom of France. In some ways it would be more accurate to say that what really happened in 1154 was that some mid-ranking French nobles happened to inherit the English Crown.

Even if you buy the idea that England is the source of all ancient liberties (no), western France is unlikely to share its political culture, because it was never a part of the same polity: the two lands just happened to share a landlord for a while.

As it happens, they didn’t even share it for very long. By 1215, Henry’s youngest son John had done a pretty good job of losing all his territories in France, so that was the end of the Angevins. The English crown reconquered  various bits of France over the next couple of centuries, but, as you may have noticed, it hasn’t been much of a force there for some time now.

At any rate: while I know very little of French politics, I’m going to go out on a limb and guess the similarities between yesterday's electoral map and the Angevin Empire were a coincidence. I'm fairly confident that there have been other factors which have probably done more to shape the French political map than a personal empire that survived for the length of one not particularly long human life time 800 years ago. Some wars. Industrialisation. The odd revolution. You know the sort of thing.

If Daniel Hannan sucks at history, though, he also sucks at geography, since chunks of territory which owed fealty to the English crown actually voted Le Pen. These include western Normandy; they also include Calais, which remained English territory for much longer than any other part of France. This seems rather to knacker Hannan’s thesis.

So: that’s one possibility, that all this was an attempt to make serious point; but, Hannan being Hannan, it just happened to be a quite fantastically stupid one.

The other possibility is that he’s taking the piss. It’s genuinely difficult to know.

Either way, he instantly deleted the tweet. Because he realised we didn’t get the joke? Because he got two words the wrong way round? Because he realised he didn’t know where Calais was?

We’ll never know for sure. I’d ask him but, y’know, blocked.

UPDATE: Breaking news from the frontline of the internet: 

It. Was. A. Joke.

My god. He jokes. He makes light. He has a sense of fun.

This changes everything. I need to rethink my entire world view. What if... what if I've been wrong, all this time? What if Daniel Hannan is in fact one of the great, unappreciated comic voices of our time? What if I'm simply not in on the joke?

What if... what if Brexit is actually... good?

Daniel, if you're reading this – and let's be honest, you are definitely reading this – I am so sorry. I've been misunderstanding you all this time.

I owe you a pint (568.26 millilitres).

Serious offer, by the way.

 

Jonn Elledge edits the New Statesman's sister site CityMetric, and writes for the NS about subjects including politics, history and Daniel Hannan. You can find him on Twitter or Facebook.

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