The Awl obtained a copy of an internal Wired memo sent from Scott Dadich, editor in chief, to San Francisco employees. Dadich scolds the employees because the newsroom is a mess.
It’s an embarrassment: coffee stains on walls (and countertops and desks), overflowing compost bins, abandoned drafts of stories and layouts (full of highly confidential content), day-old, half-eaten food, and, yes, I’m going to say it, action figures. Please. WIRED is no longer a pirate ship. It’s the home of world-changing journalism. It’s the West Coast home of Condé Nast. And it’s increasingly a place where we, and our New York colleagues and owners, host artists, founders, CEOs, and advertisers.
No, not action figures?!
Yes. I’m going to say it. Action figures.
Now here’s why I wouldn’t be allowed to work at Wired: