Interview: Dawn Neesom, Daily Star (Evening Standard)
By David Rowan
DAWN Neesom has a message for rival editors. If you want to stay in business, dump your oldfashioned obsession with news and give the readers froth.
"Why bore or depress them when they'll get all the news they want from TV and the web?" she says a little impatiently. "Sometimes I do think editors get stuck up their own backsides."
As editor of the Daily Star for the past eight months, Neesom, 39, feels in a strong position to know what readers want. As circulations tumble among red-tops and singleformat broadsheets, the Star remains the exception that continues to add readers.
Three years ago, when Richard Desmond bought it with the Daily Express, the paper's future looked uncertain, with sales below 630,000.
Under Neesom, and her predecessor Peter Hill, they have risen solidly to 919,000 and on some days to a million, overtaking the Express and causing serious worries at The Sun and the Mirror.
Commentators may sneer at the Star's mix of flesh, soaps and celebs, but Neesom points only to the numbers. "I don't give a monkey's what people say," she says in her no-nonsense east London accent. "Broadsheet snobs can dismiss me all they like, but I'm selling papers and they're not."
Besides, she says, the growth will only continue. "I think the Daily Star is capable of selling 1.5 million daily as a minimum," she predicts - adding that she will be there to make it happen.
Her recipe, she explains, is to offer readers "inspiration and aspiration".
"The secret is it's fun, it's cheeky, you read it and you smile," she says.
"Let's face it, people are not getting their news from newspapers now. The only paper that's doing exceptionally well is the Daily Star, and we have a light and frothy diet of celebrity and fun.
"Yes, we cover the big news stories too, but I'm not going to bore readers and go on for pages and pages. That's where The Sun and the Mirror go wrong.
One day they'll be off to Africa and you'll get a picture of a baby covered in flies, the next there will be Beyonce in a glittering frock. They are schizophrenic and they tend to preach." As for "star" journalists, they too are superfluous. "The days of having big-name journalists who can sell papers are long gone. The readers just don't care."
It remains debatable how far the Star does, as she claims, cover "all the hard news": coverage of the Republican National Convention, for instance, focused on Britney Spears's exclusion from a party over her "raunchy" image.
But readers - the youngest of any national paper, she claims, at an average age of 32 - seemingly hunger for such escapism. "I want them to feel confident and happy as they face the day," Neesom explains. "It's about having a life and enjoying themselves. We all know there are problems in Sudan or Iraq. But I don't want to depress them as they go to work on the bus or in their white van."
Part of her strategy is to involve readers - from a letters page for the text-message generation ("Can any1 explain y the bird sh*t on my car is PURPLE?") to a quest for Britain's "Cleavage Queen", which attracted entries from 2,000 " gorgeous babes". The Sun's "cleavage week", by contrast, lacked any "conviction", Neesom notes.
She rejects as patronising any suggestion that the paper should not show topless models. "Girls love it. They see it as a path to fame and fortune.
And they're not wrong. It's aspirational. A reader might have the worst job on Earth, but they think, 'Jordan started off like this, so maybe I'll have a go.'" The paper claims to have discovered not just Jordan, but Melinda Messenger and Nell McAndrew. Yet it has faced a struggle to appeal more widely to women readers.
Neesom responds that she has increased the proportion from around 30 to 40 per cent by using "less laddish" headlines and photographs of women celebrities rather than "gratuitous models".
Amid all the celebrity coverage, there is one political issue that obsesses the Star - asylum.
Refugee groups have accused Neesom of stirring up hatred, but she says she is merely giving a platform to readers' concerns.
"It's my job to reflect how they feel, and they're genuinely worried.
They see people coming over here and they perceive them to be treated better than themselves."
BUT isn't such coverage simply playing into racists' hands? "Tony Blair is playing into the hands of racists by some of his policies, and that's what's led to street attacks," she replies. "Why does being worried make the Daily Star reader racist?"
What policy, then, would she propose? "I'm not a politician, I'm a newspaper editor," she says. "Our line is what the readers are feeling at the time.
It's not our job to tell them what to think. I'm not into preaching." They "don't believe a word Blair says", but she will not yet commit to an electoral preference on their behalf.
Neesom, a kick-boxer and devoted West Ham supporter, retains some of the east London toughness of her Stratford upbringing. She dropped out of college at 18 for financial reasons, began her career on the Newham Recorder, and worked at Woman's Own and then The Sun before arriving at the Star seven years ago. She is married to a TV studio technician, with no children.
Working for Richard Desmond, she says, is "fantastic - the man's a positive whirlwind". She has not, she says, faced his legendary obscenity-laden tirades - "If I did," she insists, "I'd just swear back." She is evasive over reported cutbacks imposed by Desmond on her paper. When asked about sports coverage having to be pooled with the Express, for instance, she replies: "I wouldn't like to go into that, it's not my area of expertise so I don't know what's going on there."
This sounds a surprising admission for an editor, but she insists that her resources "are not being pared down". "I still have exactly the same sized sports desk," she says carefully. "My reporters still file for me." Nor should the use of a Lancashire-based pool of subeditors be seen as a cost-cutting inconvenience. "You can shout at them down the phone, it's just as effective."
What next, then, for Neesom?
Would she like to go back and run The Sun? "No fear," she answers.
"Have you seen their sales? They managed to lose 143,000 buyers in July.
That's going some."
But couldn't her no-news philosophy turn things around?
"What, with my hands tied behind my back? No," she adds, "it will be much more satisfying to take the Daily Star ahead of The Sun. It's possible. Do the graphs."
(Evening Standard, September 1, 2004)
DAWN Neesom has a message for rival editors. If you want to stay in business, dump your oldfashioned obsession with news and give the readers froth.
"Why bore or depress them when they'll get all the news they want from TV and the web?" she says a little impatiently. "Sometimes I do think editors get stuck up their own backsides."
As editor of the Daily Star for the past eight months, Neesom, 39, feels in a strong position to know what readers want. As circulations tumble among red-tops and singleformat broadsheets, the Star remains the exception that continues to add readers.
Three years ago, when Richard Desmond bought it with the Daily Express, the paper's future looked uncertain, with sales below 630,000.
Under Neesom, and her predecessor Peter Hill, they have risen solidly to 919,000 and on some days to a million, overtaking the Express and causing serious worries at The Sun and the Mirror.
Commentators may sneer at the Star's mix of flesh, soaps and celebs, but Neesom points only to the numbers. "I don't give a monkey's what people say," she says in her no-nonsense east London accent. "Broadsheet snobs can dismiss me all they like, but I'm selling papers and they're not."
Besides, she says, the growth will only continue. "I think the Daily Star is capable of selling 1.5 million daily as a minimum," she predicts - adding that she will be there to make it happen.
Her recipe, she explains, is to offer readers "inspiration and aspiration".
"The secret is it's fun, it's cheeky, you read it and you smile," she says.
"Let's face it, people are not getting their news from newspapers now. The only paper that's doing exceptionally well is the Daily Star, and we have a light and frothy diet of celebrity and fun.
"Yes, we cover the big news stories too, but I'm not going to bore readers and go on for pages and pages. That's where The Sun and the Mirror go wrong.
One day they'll be off to Africa and you'll get a picture of a baby covered in flies, the next there will be Beyonce in a glittering frock. They are schizophrenic and they tend to preach." As for "star" journalists, they too are superfluous. "The days of having big-name journalists who can sell papers are long gone. The readers just don't care."
It remains debatable how far the Star does, as she claims, cover "all the hard news": coverage of the Republican National Convention, for instance, focused on Britney Spears's exclusion from a party over her "raunchy" image.
But readers - the youngest of any national paper, she claims, at an average age of 32 - seemingly hunger for such escapism. "I want them to feel confident and happy as they face the day," Neesom explains. "It's about having a life and enjoying themselves. We all know there are problems in Sudan or Iraq. But I don't want to depress them as they go to work on the bus or in their white van."
Part of her strategy is to involve readers - from a letters page for the text-message generation ("Can any1 explain y the bird sh*t on my car is PURPLE?") to a quest for Britain's "Cleavage Queen", which attracted entries from 2,000 " gorgeous babes". The Sun's "cleavage week", by contrast, lacked any "conviction", Neesom notes.
She rejects as patronising any suggestion that the paper should not show topless models. "Girls love it. They see it as a path to fame and fortune.
And they're not wrong. It's aspirational. A reader might have the worst job on Earth, but they think, 'Jordan started off like this, so maybe I'll have a go.'" The paper claims to have discovered not just Jordan, but Melinda Messenger and Nell McAndrew. Yet it has faced a struggle to appeal more widely to women readers.
Neesom responds that she has increased the proportion from around 30 to 40 per cent by using "less laddish" headlines and photographs of women celebrities rather than "gratuitous models".
Amid all the celebrity coverage, there is one political issue that obsesses the Star - asylum.
Refugee groups have accused Neesom of stirring up hatred, but she says she is merely giving a platform to readers' concerns.
"It's my job to reflect how they feel, and they're genuinely worried.
They see people coming over here and they perceive them to be treated better than themselves."
BUT isn't such coverage simply playing into racists' hands? "Tony Blair is playing into the hands of racists by some of his policies, and that's what's led to street attacks," she replies. "Why does being worried make the Daily Star reader racist?"
What policy, then, would she propose? "I'm not a politician, I'm a newspaper editor," she says. "Our line is what the readers are feeling at the time.
It's not our job to tell them what to think. I'm not into preaching." They "don't believe a word Blair says", but she will not yet commit to an electoral preference on their behalf.
Neesom, a kick-boxer and devoted West Ham supporter, retains some of the east London toughness of her Stratford upbringing. She dropped out of college at 18 for financial reasons, began her career on the Newham Recorder, and worked at Woman's Own and then The Sun before arriving at the Star seven years ago. She is married to a TV studio technician, with no children.
Working for Richard Desmond, she says, is "fantastic - the man's a positive whirlwind". She has not, she says, faced his legendary obscenity-laden tirades - "If I did," she insists, "I'd just swear back." She is evasive over reported cutbacks imposed by Desmond on her paper. When asked about sports coverage having to be pooled with the Express, for instance, she replies: "I wouldn't like to go into that, it's not my area of expertise so I don't know what's going on there."
This sounds a surprising admission for an editor, but she insists that her resources "are not being pared down". "I still have exactly the same sized sports desk," she says carefully. "My reporters still file for me." Nor should the use of a Lancashire-based pool of subeditors be seen as a cost-cutting inconvenience. "You can shout at them down the phone, it's just as effective."
What next, then, for Neesom?
Would she like to go back and run The Sun? "No fear," she answers.
"Have you seen their sales? They managed to lose 143,000 buyers in July.
That's going some."
But couldn't her no-news philosophy turn things around?
"What, with my hands tied behind my back? No," she adds, "it will be much more satisfying to take the Daily Star ahead of The Sun. It's possible. Do the graphs."
(Evening Standard, September 1, 2004)
posted by David Rowan at Wednesday, September 01, 2004
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