For their business and some of the editorial team, today is a great day, I reckon; for me personally, it is not so good.
Let me explain: the sale makes it a sad day for me because I became so deeply attached to The Telegraph after discovering its rich history. During the research period for my book The Unlikely Interviews (https://mybook.to/UnlikelyInterviews), I found the 1855 story of London’s first penny newspaper. Just months after its launch, the new owner, Joseph Moses Levy, decided to make it available for working and middle-class readers. Very soon, they managed to undercut elite publications like The Times.
Impressed by this historical journey, I decided to have an ‘unlikely interview’ with Mr Levy. Below, you can read the excerpt from the book:
Mr Levy’s Penny Revolution
Tête-à-tête with The Daily Telegraph’s Second Owner on Hope and Copper Coins.
Setting:
The interview takes place on The Ink & Penny coffee house’s small, slightly crowded terrace, located directly across the road from the Daily Telegraph building, just off Fleet Street, near the eastern end of The Strand. The street teems with life: hansom cabs clattering by, delivery carts laden with bales of newsprint, newsboys with stacks of fresh Telegraphs under their arms shouting headlines, and a steady stream of bowler-hatted gentlemen and hurrying ladies. The air is brisk and cool, typical of a late London autumn afternoon. Joseph Moses Levy and the interviewer sit at a small table, covered with a white linen cloth, upon which sit two cups of steaming Earl Grey and a plate of plain biscuits. A half-smoked cigar rests in an ashtray. Mr Levy, a familiar face in the trade, receives a mix of nods, curious stares, and thinly veiled envy from nearby tables. He appears at ease, despite the chaos, as the whole setting seems to emphasise his new triumph.
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Interviewer (inquisitive): Mr Levy, thank you for agreeing to this interview. They say you proclaimed the dawn of the affordable press. So, let’s get straight to the foundation of your success: the price. You dropped it from two pence to just one penny for the newly re-launched Daily Telegraph, while you sell The Times for six pence. The old guard said it was suicide that you couldn’t maintain quality at that rate. What figures, specifically, assured you of the profit potential?
Joseph Moses Levy [JML]: Suicide, you say? No, sir. It was simple, if aggressive, arithmetic. The old guard makes its profit from the Stamp Duty, which has just been abolished, and from a high cover price. They rely on selling a paper to the wealthy few. But I, I make my profit from (he gestures broadly across the street) volume and advertising. If a man pays six pence, you must convince him he has bought a golden oracle. But if a man pays a single penny, he buys it out of curiosity, or habit, or just to pass the journey home. My calculation was this: for every one reader of The Times at six pence, I will have ten, perhaps twenty, readers at one penny. That readership is what sells the space in our columns. A dozen advertisers will happily pay me a high rate to reach twenty thousand working men, whereas they might pay far less to reach a few hundred titled gentlemen. The copper coin is the engine of the people, and the copper coin will fund the best journalism in London. The Daily Telegraph is not merely a cheap paper; it is a new force in public opinion, and Fleet Street must now reckon with the power of the penny.
Interviewer (agrees, still slightly confused): Indeed, your logic is completely sound. But let us be honest: You acquired the paper from Colonel Sleigh in a debt settlement. It was a bankrupt publication, priced by the former proprietor at two pence. How did you justify the decision to half the market price?
JML (smiles, indicating his building with the hand): Observe, my friend. See the bustle? That is the sound of democracy in action. I am not accustomed to defending my decisions, but if you insist, and only for the sake of historical record, I shall oblige you: It is simple arithmetic and a strong belief in the common man. The repeal of the stamp duty this year – a great victory for a free press – made this possible. The expensive papers serve an elite readership. I asked myself: what about the middle and working classes? They are intelligent, they are ambitious, and they need to be informed. Call it a gamble, if you like the word. But, mind you, it is a calculated one. The profit margin on a single copy is smaller, yes, but the potential for mass circulation is boundless. With the quickly increasing readership, we can command a far greater price for advertising. My ‘penny model’ is not about charity; it is about building an entirely new scale of business.
Interviewer (briefly writes in his notebook): You’ve installed your son Edward and the respected Thornton Hunt as editors. What is the new editorial vision for this people’s paper?
JML (sets his cup of Earl Grey on the saucer): Excellent lads, both of them. Under their editorial direction, the content is markedly brisk and accessible; the paper provides a thorough, if swift, digest of the day’s affairs. Within a few weeks, we are already outselling The Times; yes, they still have the heritage, but we have the future. We are reaching parts of London and the country that no daily paper has touched before. The appetite for news written in an accessible language, then delivered quickly and affordably, is voracious. Hunt’s mandate is clear: we are to report on all striking events: in politics, in business, in science, but told so that the intelligent public can easily understand it. We will speak clearly and with independence; we shall not be a mouthpiece for any single party.
Interviewer (he shows the calm persistence of one accustomed to polite interrogation): I acknowledge your political neutrality Mr Levy, but this returns us squarely to the conflict between funding and talent: How did you persuade people of Mr Hunt’s calibre to join what was widely seen as a financial gamble, eschewing the comfort and high wages offered by the established six-pence papers? What did you offer them?
JML (pauses, considering the question; the smile vanishes as he adopts a serious expression): You misunderstand the ambition of a truly great journalist. Thornton Hunt is not one to be bought by a fixed sum. The six-pence papers offered him comfort; I offered him influence; they offered him the opportunity to be the voice of the nobility and the wealthy banker, with us, he is the strong voice of the future. With every single article, Mr Hunt reaches, with us, twenty times the number of readers he ever could at a competitor; the Telegraph is a boundless canvas for his ideas. And that, sir, is a reward that no stagnant six-pence paper can match.
Interviewer (he smiles for the first time during the meeting): That is a powerful explanation for your success in securing talent, and I thank you for it. Finally, Mr Levy, you have fundamentally changed the competitive market of journalism in London. My last two questions: What is your hope for the enduring legacy of the penny press? And how do you ensure that the immense power of the Telegraph will always be used to guide, and not merely manipulate, public opinion?
JML (leaning forward): My hope is modest, but clear: to bring the morning paper to every breakfast table, and make it a daily necessity for every respectable household in Britain. The age of the expensive, elite broadsheet is passing. The age of the popular, penny newspaper began with The Daily Telegraph. And last but not least, that is a fine question about the power of the written press; when you speak to a million men, the stakes are undeniably high. My paper’s purpose is not to manipulate, but to inform the public so that it may judge for itself. Furthermore, there is a commercial prudence in honesty. If we were to indulge in gross manipulation, we would quickly lose the trust of the very mass audience we have worked so hard to cultivate. The moment our readers suspect we are attempting to deceive them, they will spend their penny elsewhere. We are successful not because we tell the common man what to think, but because we give him the tools to think for himself. And that, sir, is why the Daily Telegraph will flourish.
(The interview concludes as Mr Levy rises, ready to return to the bustle of the offices in the building across the street.)
