Exclusive: Time to launch longevity franchise
Time plans to launch a new editorial vertical called Time Longevity, dedicated to the coverage of science, health, business, tech and policy innovations that address aging and the human lifespan, its CEO Jess Sibley and editor-in-chief Sam Jacobs told Axios.
Why it matters: It's part of a broader transformation of Time's business from a consumer site to a platform for business decision-makers, Sibley said.
Zoom out: Over the past few years, Time has invested more editorially in covering topics top-of-mind for business and policy elites, such as health, AI and climate, per Jacobs.
"What we're seeing is this conversation around longevity really matters to those decision-makers in whatever field they're in," he noted.
The audience and advertiser opportunities are "truly limitless," Sibley said, noting the topic impacts readers of all ages and demographics.
Longevity is of keen interest to a range of advertisers, including pharmaceuticals, sports, health and wellness, food, hospitality, travel, tech, education and financial services, she added.
Zoom in: The new franchise will launch later this year as a multi-platform series spanning events, digital coverage and print specials.
Coverage is meant to provide a trusted guide for people looking to understand more about aging and living a longer, healthier life. That includes everything from financial planning and retirement to climate and wellness.
The company will feature longevity as one of its tracks this year at its Time100 Health Leadership Forum in the fall, Jacobs said.
It will launch a "future of living" interview series that will live across its platforms.
The newsroom will also launch a special report that will get a dedicated section of the magazine, a digital landing page and social coverage.
Between the lines: Aside from the commercial opportunities, Jacobs said key indicators suggested Time's audience was craving more on this topic.
Around 20% of Time's website visitors in April came to read a story about health or science, he said. A recent editorial survey of readers found that aging was the number one topic they wanted to learn more about. Time's health email, with 270,000 free subscribers, is its second-largest newsletter.
Last month, ahead of the reveal of its Time 100 list, the company profiled entrepreneur Ben Lamm, CEO of the Colossal Biosciences, a genetic engineering company working to "de-extinct" animals. The viral Time story revealed publicly for the first time that Colossal Biosciences had brought back the dire wolf.
The big picture: Time has transformed its business by positioning itself as a community platform for opinion leaders.
The company removed its digital paywall in 2023 amid a pivot away from consumer revenue. It's launched several premium events and lists catered toward top professional innovators in topics like AI and health and has built communities around them.
What to watch: Asked about reports that Salesforce co-founder Marc Benioff was eyeing a possible sale of Time, Jacobs said, "We are launching longevity in part because we believe in Time's longevity."
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Partner of the First U.S. Woman in Space Reflects On Their Hidden Relationship
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History does not record if Sally Ride rolled her eyes when she got a look at the plans for the first toiletry kit NASA put together for its female astronauts—but she'd have been within her rights to do so. The space agency certainly knew how to pack for men, providing them more or less the basics—deodorant, toothpaste, toothbrush, razor. The women would get the essentials too, but there would be more: lipstick, blush, eyeliner, and, critically, up to 100 tampons—because who-all knew just how many the average woman would need during the average week in space? That first toiletry kit was planned before June 18, 1983, when Ride went aloft on the shuttle Challenger, becoming the first American woman in space, breaking the gender barrier the Soviets had broken with cosmonaut Valentina Tereshkova, just over 20 years to the day earlier. The tampon nonsense was not the only indignity NASA's female astronauts in general and Ride in particular had to endure. 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More important than all of that, though, was the private— exceedingly private—side to Ride, most notably her 27-year relationship with her life partner Tam O'Shaughnessy, a marriage-in-all-but-name that wasn't revealed until Ride died of pancreatic cancer in 2012 at age 61, and O'Shaughnessy told the world in the obituary she wrote to mark her mate's passing. Not long before Ride died, O'Shaughnessey gently broached how—and whether—she should reveal their more-than quarter century secret. 'I asked Sally about that. I said, you know, 'I'm kind of worried. I don't know what I'm going to write, you know, how I'm going to navigate this,'' O'Shaughnessy recalled in a recent conversation with TIME, ahead of the release of the film. 'And she said, 'You decide. Whatever you decide will be the right thing to do.'' 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More than 8,000 hopefuls applied; in 1978, NASA selected 35 of them to become astronauts, including three Black people, one Asian American, and six women. Ride was among them, as was Judith Resnik, who would lose her life when the shuttle Challenger exploded at the start of its tenth mission in January 1986. There was a great deal of handicapping inside and outside of NASA as to which woman would fly first—much the way there was among the men in the run-up to Shepard's flight in 1961—and Ride and Resnik were considered the leading candidates. Ultimately, as Sally recounts, Ride was chosen because she struck NASA mission planners as slightly less distracted by the celebrity attending being number one, focusing more on the mission and less on the history she would make. 'She loved physics and she loved space exploration,' says O'Shaughnessey, 'and with those things she could be intense, driven.' Ride loved O'Shaughnessey too—though it was a devotion that was a long time in the making. The two met when Ride was 13 and O'Shaughnessey was 12 and they were standing in line to check in to play in a tennis tournament in Southern California, where they both grew up. Ride repeatedly rose restlessly to her tiptoes, and O'Shaughenessy said, ''You're walking on your toes like a ballet dancer,'' she recalls in the film. 'That kind of started our friendship. Sally was kind of quiet, but she would talk for eight minutes straight on different players and how to beat 'em, how to whup 'em.' The two grew quickly close, but went in different directions, with Ride studying physics at Swarthmore College in Pennsylvania for three semesters beginning in 1968 and later at UCLA for the summer semester before transferring to Stanford as a junior, and O'Shaughnessey becoming a professional tennis player from 1971 to 1974, ultimately playing in both the U.S. Open and Wimbledon. O'Shaughnessy accepted her sexuality early, openly, and enthusiastically. 'I was on the tennis circuit and there were a few queer women,' she told TIME. 'But it was also just the atmosphere, even the straight women. No one really cared who you slept with…I was going to the gay bars in San Francisco and dancing with my friends.' For Ride, things were different. When she was at Stanford she fell in love with her female roommate and the two were together for four years. But Ride insisted on keeping the relationship largely under wraps and that secrecy was a no-go for her partner. 'She couldn't stand being so closeted and decided to move on with her life,' says O'Shaughnessy. Ride would later choose an opposite sex partner, marrying fellow astronaut Steve Hawley in 1982, a move that was more than just an accommodating pose for a public figure in a country not ready for same-sex marriage, but less than a true union of the heart. 'They were really good friends,' O'Shaughnessy says. 'They had a lot in common. He was an astronomer, Sally was a physicist. They had stuff to talk about. They were both so thrilled to be selected to be astronauts and they both liked sports, so I think they had a solid friendship.' It wasn't enough. The two divorced in 1987, but even before they did, Ride and O'Shaughnessy began drifting together as more than just friends. At the time, O'Shaughnessy was living in Atlanta, after retiring from the tennis circuit; Ride, who was living in Houston, would visit her frequently. 'I never thought we would become romantic,' O'Shaughnessy says, 'but it just turned that way one afternoon in the spring of 1985. When she would come to town, we would typically go for runs and long walks and just spend time together. Back at my place one day, we were just talking. I had an old cocker spaniel named Annie, I leaned over to pet her, and the next thing I knew, Sally's hand was on my lower back. And it felt unusual. I turned to look at her and I could tell she was in love with me.' As O'Shaughnessy recalls in the film, she said, 'Oh boy, we're in trouble.' Ride responded, 'We don't have to be. We don't have to do this.' Then they kissed. Ride would ultimately fly twice in space, going aloft the second time in 1984, once again aboard the shuttle Challenger. After that snake-bit ship came to tragic ruin, exploding 73 seconds into its last flight and claiming the lives of all seven crewmembers, Ride and Neil Armstrong, the commander of Apollo 11 and the first man on the moon, served on the commission that investigated the causes of the accident. Ride left NASA in 1987, accepting a fellowship at Stanford and later became a professor of physics at the University of California, San Diego. In 1989, O'Shaughnessy moved out west to live with her. It would not be until 2013, a year after Ride's death, that California would permanently legalize gay marriage, and it would not be until 2015 that the Supreme Court would do the same nationwide. That was alright with Ride, who, as with her relationship with her college roommate, continued to believe that her love for O'Shaughnessy should remain a quiet and relatively private thing. But all that began to change in 2011. It was early that year that Ride first showed signs of illness—poor appetite and yellowing cheeks. Her doctor diagnosed pancreatic cancer. 'The doctor never said what stage. He never said the worst stage. We thought she was going to get better, and we were trying everything,' O'Shaughnessy recalls. 'She was doing acupuncture, we were meditating, we became vegans. And then one day, we're at the oncologist, and he said, 'It's time for hospice.' And Sally and I were, like, shocked.' Not long before Ride died, the couple grew concerned that O'Shaughnessy would not be allowed to visit her in the hospital, help make critical care decisions, or share property because they were not married—and could not be in California. So they went for the next best thing, registering as certified domestic partners, which afforded them the necessary rights. 'It's the worst phrase,' says O'Shaughnessy. 'We used to call each other certified domestic hens, because it's such a bad term.' Whatever name they went by, they would not get to enjoy their newly legalized status for long. Ride passed on July 23, 2012, just 17 months after she was diagnosed. At first NASA planned no formal memorial or celebration of Ride's life. Then, the next month, Armstrong died and a memorial was held at the Washington National Cathedral, with 1,500 people in attendance. 'I got mad,' O'Shaughnessy says. She called then-Senator Barbara Mikulski (D, Md.) who chaired the Senate Committee on Appropriations and oversaw NASA's budget. Mikulski called then-NASA Administrator Charlie Bolden, who at first offered up a relatively intimate affair for 300 people at the National Air and Space Museum. O'Shaughnessy pressed, and ultimately won approval for a far more prepossessing event at the Kennedy Center in 2013. Today, Ride's legacy lives on in Sally Ride Science, a nonprofit founded by Ride and O'Shaughnessy in 2001 to inspire girls to become scientifically literate and to draw girls and women into the STEM fields. It lives on too in astronaut Peggy Whitson, who now holds the U.S. record for most time spent in space, at 675 days over four missions. It lives on in Christina Koch, who will become the first woman to travel to the moon, when she flies aboard Artemis II on its circumlunar journey in 2026. It lives on in NASA's current 46-person astronaut corps, of whom 19 are women. Ride flew high, Ride flew fast, and Ride flew first—doing service to both science and human equity in the process. Sally powerfully tells her tale.
