The Year Our Readers Made Possible
The DailyYou’re reading The New Yorker’s daily newsletter, a guide to our top stories, featuring exclusive insights from our writers and editors. Sign up to receive it in your in-box.As we approach the end of 2024, it’s safe to say that few of us at The New Yorker will look back on these twelve months with nostalgia. The past year provided yet another stretch of political tumult, as American leaders and voters lurched from one crisis to the next: from Donald Trump’s felony convictions to Joe Biden’s disastrous debate performance and the election itself. But through it all The New Yorker has operated with a sense of mission—to deliver the best reporting, insight, and, on occasion, even a bit of a well-deserved uplift to you, our most dedicated readers.With the year winding down, I’m filled with appreciation for the work that you’ve made possible with your loyal support: the scrupulous reporting, editing, and fact checking; the publication of the best in fiction and poetry, art and humor; the wisdom of podcasts such as In the Dark and Critics at Large. Right now, our correspondents are in the field, from D.C. to Damascus, trying to make sense of a bewildering world. Just the other morning, I was talking with Jon Lee Anderson, a veteran correspondent of so many wars and conflict zones, as he travels around Syria and tries to conceive of a way to tell the story of the fall of Bashar al-Assad. New Yorker writers also trained their attention on the discussions and pleasures of the cultural sphere, from Kanye West’s peculiar, even violent, remix of an architectural treasure on the Pacific Coast to the rise and fall (at least for now) of the trad wife. It’s your support, in fact, that was behind myriad awards for New Yorker writers and artists, including, in the past year, two Pulitzer Prizes and two Polk Awards, the highest accolades in journalism.In February, The New Yorker will celebrate its hundredth year in existence. To honor that marker, there will be special issues, two new anthologies, a film festival, an exhibition of New Yorker art and archive materials. And we will also take the occasion as inspiration to create another century of The New Yorker in all its forms. Above all, please know how grateful we are for our readers. Subscriptions are what keeps us going. We wish you and your loved ones a happy New Year, and we hope you’ll join us during our yearlong anniversary celebrations.The LedePhotographs by Myriam Boulos / MagnumThe American Ambassador to Syria at the start of the uprising believes that the U.S. could still help give Syrians a fighting chance at stable self-governance. David D. Kirkpatrick reports »More Top StoriesA Cancer-Causing Virus Hiding in Millions of AmericansThe Afterimage of Arlene CroceDaily CartoonCartoon by Matt ReuterCopy link to cartoonCopy link to cartoonLink copiedShopShopMore Fun & GamesA Thirty-Year-Old Man Today vs. a Thirty-Year-Old Man in 1884From the Puzzles & Games Issue: The Supper SoiréeP.S. “The winter of 1933, particularly the three weeks preceding Christmas, was by far the unhappiest period of my life,” Joseph Mitchell writes, in “Christmas Story.” It was the Depression, and scenes of human misery abounded. “My faith in human dignity was almost gone,” he tells us, “when something happened that did a lot to restore it.”
As we approach the end of 2024, it’s safe to say that few of us at The New Yorker will look back on these twelve months with nostalgia. The past year provided yet another stretch of political tumult, as American leaders and voters lurched from one crisis to the next: from Donald Trump’s felony convictions to Joe Biden’s disastrous debate performance and the election itself. But through it all The New Yorker has operated with a sense of mission—to deliver the best reporting, insight, and, on occasion, even a bit of a well-deserved uplift to you, our most dedicated readers.
With the year winding down, I’m filled with appreciation for the work that you’ve made possible with your loyal support: the scrupulous reporting, editing, and fact checking; the publication of the best in fiction and poetry, art and humor; the wisdom of podcasts such as In the Dark and Critics at Large. Right now, our correspondents are in the field, from D.C. to Damascus, trying to make sense of a bewildering world. Just the other morning, I was talking with Jon Lee Anderson, a veteran correspondent of so many wars and conflict zones, as he travels around Syria and tries to conceive of a way to tell the story of the fall of Bashar al-Assad. New Yorker writers also trained their attention on the discussions and pleasures of the cultural sphere, from Kanye West’s peculiar, even violent, remix of an architectural treasure on the Pacific Coast to the rise and fall (at least for now) of the trad wife. It’s your support, in fact, that was behind myriad awards for New Yorker writers and artists, including, in the past year, two Pulitzer Prizes and two Polk Awards, the highest accolades in journalism.
In February, The New Yorker will celebrate its hundredth year in existence. To honor that marker, there will be special issues, two new anthologies, a film festival, an exhibition of New Yorker art and archive materials. And we will also take the occasion as inspiration to create another century of The New Yorker in all its forms. Above all, please know how grateful we are for our readers. Subscriptions are what keeps us going. We wish you and your loved ones a happy New Year, and we hope you’ll join us during our yearlong anniversary celebrations.
The Lede
The American Ambassador to Syria at the start of the uprising believes that the U.S. could still help give Syrians a fighting chance at stable self-governance. David D. Kirkpatrick reports »
Daily Cartoon
- A Thirty-Year-Old Man Today vs. a Thirty-Year-Old Man in 1884
- From the Puzzles & Games Issue: The Supper Soirée
P.S. “The winter of 1933, particularly the three weeks preceding Christmas, was by far the unhappiest period of my life,” Joseph Mitchell writes, in “Christmas Story.” It was the Depression, and scenes of human misery abounded. “My faith in human dignity was almost gone,” he tells us, “when something happened that did a lot to restore it.”
