The New York Times: The World’s Guilty Pleasure and Collective Diary
When the world wants to feel civilised, it opens a tab on The New York Times. From Lagos to Lima, the faint glow of its blue masthead is the modern equivalent of a Victorian parlour lamp: reassuring, slightly smug, and reassuringly smug. The ritual is global—tap, skim, nod knowingly at a headline about deforestation, then…