Hambry

Hambry is the founder and editor of the Hambry newsroom, a position he has held since the beginning, which he defines as the moment the news stopped making sense and someone needed to say so.

He has been in journalism for forty-odd years, the exact count of which is a matter of some internal debate. He came up through the wire services, served as a foreign correspondent during an era he refers to only as "the good part," and returned to found Hambry at a point in his career when most of his peers were writing memoirs. He is not writing a memoir. He considers this a feature.

He is known, among those who have worked with him, for three things: a dry sense of humor that emerges at approximately 4 p.m. daily; a complete inability to tolerate corporate press releases; and a policy of never writing about a subject he has not read about first. The first two qualities have been widely praised. The third has been quietly resented.

His editorial line is simple and, he insists, not complicated: punch up, not down. Mock the powerful. Leave ordinary people alone. Do not confuse meanness for sharpness — the sharpest pieces are the ones that state the obvious thing no one else will. He has enforced this line for decades. He is, apparently, the only one in the room who remembers the rule.

He has covered four administrations, three financial crises, the rise of the internet, and a great many product launches he does not, in retrospect, consider newsworthy. He has been offered jobs at every major publication in the country. He has taken none of them.

He is said to keep a list of headlines he has rejected over the years, titled "Things That Were Not Funny." The list is reportedly extensive. No one has seen it.

He is here since reality jumped the shark. He does not expect it to swim back.