The reasons: unprecedented high-level engagement with top brands and agencies, like telco EE and Unilever, and a new generation of revenue out of native ad-oriented Guardian Labs.
Like its peers, The Guardian has moved to an audience-based sales approach that is pulling in bigger campaigns at good rates.
Pemsel says he’s been at pains to correct his biggest advertisers and agency clients: The Guardian isn’t a nonprofit.
(Legally, it’s a for-profit, with a single shareholder: the Scott Trust Limited, which is legally charged to reinvest profits to “sustain journalism that is free from commercial or political interference.”) The problem Pemsel found in the ad community wasn’t a matter of legal definitions.
The ambivalence about making money surprised him and more: “aghast, horrified, and shocked” were the words he used.
Somehow, The Guardian’s penetrating, crusading journalism and the “open” editorial strategy espoused by editor Alan Rusbridger had overwhelmed the rest of the business in how it was perceived, and sometimes in how it operated.
Some numbers say The Guardian is headed in the right direction. Through last March, it showed a 29 percent increase in digital revenues to £55.9 million (or $91 million), growing at twice the rate of the digital ad market.
Look for similar results when it reports again in June.
In the past year, it’s broken story after story on NSA spying as the primary recipient of the Edward Snowden files. That contradiction — between a worldwide reach and respect and a business strategy that has seemed unstrategic — may be passing into history. Laid out for me by Guardian News & Media’s David Pemsel, it’s aimed at closing that wide chasm between The Guardian’s two faces.
With “open” as its watchword, The Guardian has pushed into every nook and cranny of the social sphere, as cataloged here at the Lab.
While I find her generally amusing, I was never as big a fan of her as a lot of people, so for me the show just isn't worth pursuing.
Long a storied editorial brand, it’s been propelled toward the top of global news audience, both by its open strategy and its hard-nosed journalism. But it’s also the Rodney Dangerfield of commercial journalism: It gets no respect.
Centers on Terry Gannon, a recently divorced single mother who temporarily moves in with her estranged father, a beer-swilling former baseball player. Cautioned by Amy not tell anyone about her, Allison can't discuss this over-the-top oddball with her father and business partner, Marv, a sunburned dermatologist who shares an office with Allison, or her younger brother, Brad, a pharmaceutical sales rep who lives in a guest room over her garage.