boston.com Arts and Entertainment your connection to The Boston Globe
Bob Giles, curator of the Nieman Foundation, listened to a guest speaker at a recent lunchtime discussion. He calls himself a ‘‘change agent’’ and says he knows that ‘‘change creates tensions.’’
Bob Giles, curator of the Nieman Foundation, listened to a guest speaker at a recent lunchtime discussion. He calls himself a ‘‘change agent’’ and says he knows that ‘‘change creates tensions.’’ (Globe Staff Photo / Suzanne Kreiter)

Changes stir discontent in an exclusive journalistic club

It is one of journalism's most prestigious honors: A yearlong fellowship at Harvard's Nieman Foundation, where two dozen midcareer journalists gather each fall to take classes, talk about issues, and reflect on their careers in a cozy white house in Cambridge.

For almost seven decades, since it began with a $1 million bequest from the widow of Milwaukee Journal founder Lucius Nieman, the foundation has offered a select group of journalists an extended break from chaotic newsrooms, a rare chance to reflect, study new subjects, and hone their professional goals.

The Niemans, as fellows are known, also get a lifetime pass to an exclusive club: The program's 907 living alumni, including many of the most respected names in the news business, have won 63 Pulitzer Prizes and published almost 500 books. They typically describe the fellowship as one of the best and most influential years of their lives.

Passionate about a place they love, Nieman alumni have always been protective of the program. But lately, unrest about the foundation's direction, especially moves by Nieman curator Bob Giles to ramp up fund-raising and host more workshops for other journalists in a sleek new $4 million conference space, has been mounting among some former fellows.

Critics say that by offering more programs about journalism to an audience beyond the small group of fellows, the foundation risks diminishing the essence of the Nieman experience: the chance to put aside daily newsroom concerns and explore individual interests outside journalism, from science to poetry, under the guidance of Harvard professors while bonding with fellow Niemans at frequent gatherings.

The core concern -- that a cherished institution will get too big, move too far from its roots, and become too dependent on revenue growth -- echoes a larger worry in newsrooms across the country about corporate consolidation.

''The Nieman experience was fabulous, the best of my life, and I care about it," said H.G. ''Buzz" Bissinger, a former Philadelphia Inquirer reporter who won a Pulitzer Prize in 1987 for an investigation of the criminal court system and went on to write ''Friday Night Lights," an expose of Texas high school football made into a feature film released last year. ''The fellowships are the thing they've done beautifully, and what made it special was, they didn't do any of that outside stuff. . . . Now it seems to want to become a journalism center, and I think that's wrong."

Giles, the former editor and publisher of The Detroit News, was named Nieman curator five years ago, a controversial appointment because of his role in the bitter Detroit newspaper strike of the mid-1990s. A 1966 Nieman fellow who spent two decades as a top editor at Gannett Co. papers, Giles struck some Niemans as the wrong sort of leader for the foundation, coming as he did from a company widely criticized by journalists for putting profits ahead of reporting.

It didn't help that Giles took the reins from Bill Kovach, a former New York Times reporter and editor much admired for his outspoken criticism of profit-driven news management.

Giles acknowledges that his background may be a ''lingering concern" for some. But he said he vowed at the start that controversy would not make him cautious.

''I decided it wasn't going to be a factor in what I did," he said in an interview. ''I wanted to bring my ideas and express my love for the program by making it better."

That has meant changes, designed, he said, to open the Nieman Foundation's doors to more journalists. Soon after arriving in Cambridge, the new curator struck a deal with Mark Kramer, then writer in residence at Boston University, to bring Kramer's annual conference on narrative journalism under the wing of the Nieman Foundation.

Kramer went to work for the foundation in 2001, and the conference soon swelled to 1,000 participants; an annual workshop for narrative editors was added two years later. With a small staff, lodged upstairs at Nieman headquarters, Kramer said last week that he is working to expand the franchise, planning a European conference to be held in Paris, a website, and an anthology of conference speeches.

In other moves designed to spread Harvard's riches, Giles established an annual workshop for college newspaper editors, and last spring held a conference for environmental reporters and editors, described as the first in a series of beat-specific programs. A first annual seminar for minority journalists was held last month, to be followed this month by a statistics boot camp for education reporters. The conferences, to be held as often as once a month, will rely largely on other foundations for funding, Giles said.

The new programs might not have captured much attention, if they had not been paired with the more visible transformation of the program's headquarters. A high-end renovation and addition at the Walter Lippmann House, the graceful 19th-century building that has housed the foundation for almost 30 years, was finished in fall 2003 at a cost of more than $4 million. Prompted, Giles said, by cramped quarters and the need to better accommodate fellows and events, the renovation included a new heating system and increased the size of the building by 3,500 square feet, or nearly 50 percent.

''Previously, it was too cramped to be an effective learning environment for the fellows, and in addition it gives us a place we can have other journalists," Giles said.

But as upscale furnishings and recessed lighting replaced the quainter charm remembered by past fellows, the makeover sparked talk among some Niemans about the emergence of a blander, more corporate operation, complete with a raised platform for speakers in the new seminar room and a bank of flat-screen televisions in the fellows' lounge.

Nieman ''is about fellowship and ideals, not glitzy headquarters," wrote David Marcus, a 1996 fellow who shared a Pulitzer at the Dallas Morning News in 1994 for a series about violence against women around the world and who later worked at the Globe.

Concerned about ''mission creep" at the foundation, Marcus sent a memo raising questions about its direction to two dozen other former Niemans in December. ''The transformation of the Nieman Foundation reflects the Gannettization of American journalism," he declared in the e-mail.

Several current Nieman fellows scoffed at the criticism or called it unseemly, given the program's generosity. Each fellow -- a dozen from the US and a dozen from other countries -- receives a $55,000 stipend; some are paid by outside sources. (Richard Chacón, the Globe's deputy foreign editor, is a fellow this year.)

''It's been magnificent to stand back from the daily ambulance chase and enrich myself," said Patricia Danaher, a television bureau chief from Ireland and a current Nieman fellow. ''I'd be hard-pressed to find a fault."

Some Niemans say they were disturbed that the addition was built before a $4 million capital campaign to pay for it was launched last spring. Peter Behr, a 1976 Nieman fellow who spent 23 years as a reporter and editor at The Washington Post, said he was asked to donate, but has received little information about the foundation's finances.

''I don't understand why these new programs have been added, and I think we need an explanation about whether they're going to pay for themselves," he said.

The foundation has a $90 million endowment and receives an annual payout on its investments from Harvard. The campaign, which is seeking donations for the building and other projects, is being run by a full-time professional fund-raiser Giles hired last year and includes plans to name parts of the building for donors.

To help with fund-raising and provide input as he makes changes, the curator assembled a 25-member advisory board last fall, including 15 former fellows, Time Inc. editor in chief Norman Pearlstine, and Hearst Newspapers president George Irish.

Some observers have questioned the propriety of Giles's decision to admit an extra fellow, Anniston (Ala.) Star vice president Chris Waddle, outside the program's normal selection process last year, before naming the Star's publisher, H. Brandt Ayers to the advisory board that will be tapped for campaign gifts. Giles defended the move, which he said is in keeping with a long practice of adding extra fellows who meet the program's standards and whose costs can be covered by outside sources.

Described by fellows past and present as caring and involved, Giles calls himself a ''change agent" and says he understands that ''change creates tensions." But he points out that discussions about journalism have long been part of the program and that new events, such as writing workshops, are optional for fellows.

''Harvard is changing, and it's my sense that all entities in the university are expected to be evolving, maintaining their core mission, but meeting the test of what's needed by the larger world we're trying to serve," Giles said.

Fellows admit that their resistance to change is partly rooted in nostalgia. Former New York Times managing editor Gene Roberts said concerns about the Nieman mission have come and gone for years among traditionalists and preceded Giles's appointment.

''Some of the angst directed at the program is a reflection of angst over the increasingly corporate world of journalism and not wanting to see the Nieman develop a corporate approach," said Roberts, a 1960s Nieman fellow.

Former Baltimore Sun editor Bill Marimow, a 1980s fellow who was named managing editor of National Public Radio last year, called Giles ''a good journalist and a good man" and said he saw no signs of trouble when he spoke to fellows in November: ''I saw a group of people who seemed to be flourishing."

Amy Ellis Nutt, a feature writer for The (Newark) Star-Ledger and a current fellow, called her Nieman experience ''almost magical," so much so that she almost understands the past fellows' rumblings. ''It makes sense to me that people would still feel passionately about it," she said. ''The connection you make is so powerful, it's something you don't want to let go of."

Jenna Russell can be reached at jrussell@globe.com.

SEARCH THE ARCHIVES
 
Today (free)
Yesterday (free)
Past 30 days
Last 12 months
 Advanced search / Historic Archives