Running the numbers

On the Slate site today, Meghan O'Rourke gives a succinct overview of a new study by VIDA about the breakdown of male and female writers in magazines, both mainstream and literary. Check it out for yourself to see all the stats, but here's a hint: XY > XX.

This doesn't surprise me much because, you know, I follow the news and live in the world. But my own professional experience in the publishing industry has been dominated by women to the point where it became a running joke to spot the guy—any guy—in the office. He was usually either the president of the company or delivering a package on his bike.

At San Francisco magazine, where I worked until last fall, the sole gentleman on the editorial masthead was the editor-in-chief.* In my current editorial department, at Apple, women outnumber men 2 to 1. Of the 12 bosses I've had since college, 6 are women.**

But here's the real question Slate's article raised for me: How does Canteen measure up? I've been there since the beginning, and I've helped select every word in its pages. So I tallied up the writers in our first six issues, and the count looks like this:

Issue 1: M9, F2
Issue 2: M6, F5
Issue 3: M6, F3
Issue 4: M7, F6
Issue 5: M7, F5
Issue 6: M11, F6
Total: M46, F27

Yikes. Despite my own background in womencentric publishing, have I sold my sisters short at the magazine that matters most to me—the one where I have the most power to make sure this kind of inequality doesn't happen?

I could admit fault, dust off the Friedan, and whack myself in the face with it. Maybe I should. But it's not that simple. We have regular conversations at Canteen about balance of all kinds: gender, race, geography. The last thing we want in a publication devoted to unveiling the creative process is a uniform set of voices.

Our core editorial staff spends months poring through unsolicited submissions, working with writers to develop original content, and weighing the mix for each issue. It's a slog. When I get to have the rare magic moment—and it is euphoric—of finding a gold nugget in the pile, I'm not thinking about who the author is at all. My only conscious thought is YES. YESYESYESYESYESYES. Which is exactly what my brain does when it reads anything great, whether it's for Canteen or not.

So what am I saying, that men write magic stuff more often than women do? My god, no. But at my magazine, at least, it's a challenge to keep gender equality topmost in mind when selecting work. I don't want Canteen to discriminate, and we do make an effort to include a range of perspectives. But in the moment of discovery, I'm not focused on making the magazine more feminist or even feminine. I just want it to be good.

At the New Yorker and the Atlantic, the editors aren't combing through the slush pile at midnight. They get to cherry-pick pieces from the finest writers in the world. I like to imagine that if I were in that position, I would have the freedom—the responsibility—to promote the work of all genders equally. To magazines at that level, I say: Step up. You have the luxury.

At Canteen, we often don't. Our resources are far more limited. So here's my basic criterion: If what you wrote makes my brain explode, I will ask you to let us publish it. And if you happen to be a woman, all the better.


* Save the occasional mantern. Yes, we called them that.
** And half of those are named Nancy. We'll need to do another study to figure that one out.