Maxim

David Brock, meet Dave Itzkoff. Dave is a bit like you: he used to be blind, but now he sees! Except he hasn’t changed his political allegiance, he’s just quit his job at Maxim. And written a piece for the New York Press excoriating his former employer.

I didn’t quite understand Itzkoff’s article, so I went out and bought a copy of the magazine, to see if I could work out what he was talking about. I hadn’t read it since its launch, when it was basically recycled material from the UK version which didn’t really work over here. Now, the US version is an excellent magazine in its own right.

So, am I saying that Itzkoff, who ought to know what he’s talking about, is wrong? Yes and no. I certainly hate the faux-naïveté with which he writes that “I would also like to believe that someday, someone is going to publish an intelligent men’s magazine that speaks to today’s generation of twenty- and thirtysomethings without pandering to them or making excessive use of the word "dude."” Dave Itzkoff, meet Details.

The problem is that Maxim is a much better magazine than Details, and for many of the reasons that Itzkoff glosses. His main complaint is that Maxim is “one of the most slickly cynical products you’ll find on a newsstand, a continued testament to the fact that good window-dressing is all that’s needed to bring a customer into the shop, even if there’s no merchandise to be found inside.”

He then develops this observation in excruciating detail, explaining that Maxim doesn’t go in for standard magazine fare like long puffy profiles, and rather sticks with a tried-and-tested formula which is heavily reliant on spending a lot of effort on cover lines.

But actually he undersells his former self. The cover lines aren’t all that: the top one on the June issue is “SEX at first sight! Doltproof pickup tips women wish you knew” – which is a bit of a syntactic mess, really, requiring a couple of readings to understand, and in any case not likely to prompt mass buying of the magazine. Given that the word “sex” has to appear on the cover somewhere, that’s probably one of the less intelligent uses of the word: a bit like using up your S in scrabble on an 18-pointer.

Meanwhile, the content of the magazine is actually excellent. The front of the book rips along nicely, with fun, nugget-sized articles and pictures which are enjoyable to read yet at the same time light and fluffy enough that you’re happy reading on. (Advertisers in the middle of the magazine don’t want you giving up at the beginning, daunted by something large and worthy.)

There’s a lot of gratuitous babeage, of course: photos of underdressed girls which barely even pretend to illustrate the articles. But I’m not complaining, and neither are the 12 million other readers of the magazine. Loaded, which started the lad mag industry, has as its slogan “for men who should know better”, which nicely encapsulates the combination of lewdness and irony which makes these magazines work. The fact is that guys like being guys, and no one’s ever been in any doubt as to what it is that guys want.

The thing is that Itzkoff isn't even complaining about the objectification of women. Hear him cry:

Time was when one of Maxim’s numerous detractors would cut us down in the press, and my first instinct (after having a good cry and contemplating graduate school) was always to dismiss it as sour grapes–these people were just jealous that the magazine had achieved so much so quickly. But now, belatedly, I understand the dilemma its success has raised, one that cuts right to the heart of this industry: Is a magazine supposed to engage, enlighten and edify its readers, or is it only intended to distract them as they flip from one advertisement to the next?

Dave Itzkoff, meet Planet Earth. You want Maxim – Maxim – to “engage, enlighten and edify”? Those million people who bought Maxim at the newsstand this month because of the cover lines or perhaps the picture of that girl off the telly – you think they want edification and enlightenment? Who do you think you are, Lord Reith? Who do you think Felix Dennis is, a public servant dedicated to the education of the American male? He’s a businessman, out to make money, and he makes money by selling ads.

I was reading two magazines yesterday – Maxim and the New Yorker. I was entertained by the former, and edified by the latter. But the last thing I want is for Maxim to run 22,000-word articles on newspaper editors, or, on the other hand, for the New Yorker to run cover stories filled with juvenile double-entendres of the lowest order, such as “SAT scores aren’t the only thing on the rise at fictitious Winslow High”. Oh, wait, that cover story was by one Dave Itzkoff.

The point is that the magazine market is about filling niches. Maxim, it turns out, fills a very big niche indeed (oo-er), and I’m completely at a loss as to why Itzkoff considers this such a dreadful state of affairs.

What he wants, he says, is “a publication with content that’s challenging, that people might want to read, and if it connects with your audience, they’ll buy the magazine of their own volition, without having to be tricked into it.” (His emphasis.) What he doesn’t seem to realise is that Maxim fulfills two of his three criteria: people want to read it, and they buy it of their own volition. You can’t trick a million people into buying a magazine, and if you do, and if they’re disappointed, then they’re not going to buy it again. Maxim’s newsstand sales, however, continue to rise.

Itzkoff seems to think that Maxim’s readers are looking for “issue-oriented news features or authoritative first-person narratives,” and must therefore be disappointed every time they buy the magazine: the fact that such things aren’t found in Maxim is proof enough for him that they were tricked into buying it. After all, who would knowingly buy a magazine without an authoritative first-person narrative?

Well, I would, Mr Itzkoff, and I’ll do it again. I like a mixture of high and low in my life: I’m happy putting down a heavy political biography in order to watch Britney Spears Live from Las Vegas. What I don’t want is Britney suddenly putting on a sober suit and lecturing me on international geopolitics.

What would be the purpose of running longer features in Maxim? Could Maxim do them better than anybody else? Maxim is, at the moment, the best magazine at what it does in America. If you don’t like doing that thing, then, fine, quit to join Spin instead. But don’t try to spin your own preference in magazines as an industry-threatening dilemma.

Posted by Felix at 12:50 EST