But equally important, at least in the current era, was that you could make a lot of money. "They've made many millionaires here," says one high-ranking editor. Managing editors make well into the six figures, but even their deputies at some publications can make as much as $350,000 to $400,000, including bonuses. "People can't afford to go somewhere else," he says.
A Time Inc. pay package can include bonuses that easily reach six figures. These bonuses used to be based on goals one former editor describes as "quite amorphous ... journalistic things." But in more recent years, bonuses have increasingly reflected financial performance. And now, some fear that bonuses will start being tied more to AOL Time Warner's overall performance, rather than individual divisions'.
Few things provoke worry and whispering like tampering with people's pay and perks. There is "tons" of paranoia at the company, says one Time Inc. executive. "It's very, very distracting. My staff will read something in the press," he adds, referring to reports on everything from prospective layoffs to cutbacks on free pizza, "and all the good will gets swept away quickly."
It's not just the rank and file, but the company's elite crop of top editors who might feel some of the pain. For a time, the weekly magazines' managing editors - the highest-ranking editorial position at Time Inc. - had three-year contracts that automatically renewed each year, meaning that there were always at least two years left on their contracts. And the fate of retiring editors and executives again reflected Time's special custodianship. Although some left the company directly, others went upstairs, into jobs with titles like "corporate editor."
Getting kicked upstairs meant going to the company's 34th-floor offices, a plush perch that is perhaps more significant as a metaphor than an actual place. "Thirty-four is a state of mind," says one editor. "It's people whose cards come up 'bingo.'" While 34 is more powerhouse than pastureland (Editor in Chief Pearlstine and Chairman Logan have their offices there), its denizens have also included leisurely lunches and editors making themselves useful. "You sort of make up the job," says Gil Rogin, a former Sports Illustrated managing editor who did time on 34 in the late '80s. He says he oversaw "the first huge cost-cutting," critiqued titles like People and Money, and even researched the possible health effects of computer use.
But this journalistic Elysium - where the reception-area ceilings feature copper printer's plates from old Time covers, the walls are lined with Margaret Bourke-White's greatest hits and the potted palms receive regular dustings - has a museum feel to it. "This was the floor of the Zeppelin pilots," says Ralph Graves, who adds that he had real duties when he moved to 34, but saw many executives with vaguer responsibilities. "They don't have anything to do anymore because they're not flying any more Zeppelins, but they still go down to the hangar every morning."
