Latest news with #careerchange
Japan Times
7 hours ago
- Business
- Japan Times
Japan government to boost support for job 'Ice Age' generation
The government on Tuesday adopted a basic framework for measures to support members of what is known as the 'Employment Ice Age' generation, who had trouble finding work after graduating from school between around 1993 and 2004. The framework adopted by relevant ministers at a meeting calls for measures to improve the employment situation of those in their 40s and 50s, and for steps to assist them in their later years. These initiatives will be reflected in the government's economic and fiscal policy guidelines to be compiled later this month. Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba instructed the ministers to consider related measures for compiling the government's budget for fiscal 2026, which starts next April. "We will decide on a new three-year support program around the beginning of next year," he said in the meeting. In the basic framework, the government calls for conducting training for better employment treatment and providing information related to career change opportunities at Hello Work public job placement offices. The government also plans to offer online training for nonregular workers across the country. Additionally, the government will strengthen support for municipalities working to create places for hikikomori social recluses to join social activities. Given that they will soon reach old age, measures have also been suggested to help people in the employment ice age generation secure accommodations, build assets and improve their household finances.
Japan Times
2 days ago
- Business
- Japan Times
The rise of a new work culture in Japan
In line with Japan's annual hiring calendar, Seria Ganeko began job hunting during the tail end of her third year in college. Having been raised and educated on the southern island of Okinawa, she wanted to get out of her comfort zone and challenge herself in a new environment: Mobile phone agencies, sales rep positions and staffing firms were among the nearly two dozen job openings she looked at. 'I explored all kinds of work and industries without limiting myself,' the 24-year-old says. 'Regardless of the job type, I focused on companies whose management philosophy I could relate to — places where my effort would lead to meaningful growth.' She also wanted to improve her English skills. After graduating, she joined the Tokyo branch of a taxi and chauffeur service company in April as a driver, following several months of interning there. The firm offers its employees free weekly English conversation classes with a native instructor, Ganeko says, and with the recent surge in inbound tourism, she often serves international clients — giving her regular opportunities to use English on the job. Having three days off each week was another welcome bonus. However, things didn't turn out the way she hoped. Ganeko plans to quit the firm soon and has begun looking for new jobs after struggling with workplace relationships, specifically with her domineering supervisor. 'For my next job, I'm prioritizing an environment with open communication, where it's easy to consult with others and share concerns,' she says. 'Even if the salary isn't competitive, I'm looking for jobs where I can learn. I want to be versatile and able to adapt flexibly to different situations.' Jumping from job to job has become much more common with younger members of the labor force. | JOHAN BROOKS On a stone for three years — so goes a well-known Japanese proverb, suggesting that even the coldest rock will warm up when you sit on it long enough. It speaks to the value of perseverance, often cited in work contexts to encourage endurance: stick with a job long enough and the results will come. The idea resonated especially well during the era of lifetime employment and seniority-based pay. A new generation of Japanese workers, however, no longer see patience as a virtue in the job market. Job-hopping is becoming increasingly frequent among those in their 20s, signaling a clear departure from the country's long-standing norm of lifetime employment. New workers appear to be reshaping traditional career paths by pursuing broad, transferable skills — while also seeking depth through varied, specialist experiences. The focus is on efficiency and employability rather than loyalty and stability. Employability vs. loyalty Japan doesn't have direct equivalents to Western generational categories like Gen Z, Millennials or Gen X. However, its workforce reflects a generational tapestry shaped by distinct economic and social shifts over recent decades. During the nation's period of postwar growth up to the bubble economy, many workers built their careers around lifetime employment, seniority-based pay and a strong dedication to the company — hallmarks of Japan's traditional employment system. Following the crash of the asset-price bubble in the early 1990s, a new generation emerged during what came to be known as the 'Employment Ice Age' — a period of prolonged economic stagnation and a harsh labor market. Many who came of age during this period, now in their 40s and 50s, struggled to secure stable, full-time positions, often ending up in precarious or nonregular employment. These disrupted career paths have resulted in long-term challenges around job security and financial stability. A dwindling pool of workers means more and more companies are looking for staff. | JOHAN BROOKS In contrast, today's young workers are entering a market transformed by technology, the gig economy and shifting values that emphasize work-life balance. They often prioritize personal fulfillment and flexibility over traditional company loyalty, says Kaoru Fujii, HR general editor-in-chief at Recruit Co. 'I believe the shift in young people's attitudes toward work stems from broader changes in social structure,' he says. 'First, from a societal standpoint, Japan is experiencing a declining birthrate and an aging population. As the number of young people shrinks, they've become more scarce — and more sought after by companies.' Fujii's claims are indeed reflected in statistics. According to a joint survey conducted by the labor and education ministries, the employment rate for March 2025 graduates of universities stood at 98% as of April 1, the second-highest on record (the highest came a year prior) — and this figure doesn't include part time jobs. One of the most striking structural shifts has been the reversal of company and career lifespans, Fujii continues. As individuals now face the prospect of working for 60 years or more, they may effectively 'outlive' their employers as the average lifespan of a company has shrunk dramatically — falling from around 60 years in the past to just 20 today. This decrease has been driven by waves of restructuring, mergers and acquisitions. The rules of social engagement among coworkers have changed — younger employees are less tolerant of workplace hierarchies. | JOHAN BROOKS This growing mismatch is reshaping how younger workers think about their futures, prompting a shift toward more sustainable engagement with society beyond the confines of a single employer. The labor ministry last year released data on the turnover status of new graduates who entered the workforce in April 2021. According to the report, 38.4% of new high school graduates and 34.9% of new university graduates left their jobs within three years — an increase of 1.4 and 2.6 percentage points, respectively, compared to the previous year. And according to a 2023 report by Recruit Agent based on surveys of users of its recruitment service in 2022, job changes among workers aged 26 and under have doubled compared to 2017, with the gap between younger and older workers widening since 2020. Meanwhile, a Recruit survey on career aspirations revealed that only about 20% of those 26 and under wish to remain with a company until retirement. Another survey targeting job seekers found that many prefer workplaces offering personal fulfillment and opportunities to take on new challenges. While some young workers seek flexibility, others are concerned about their financial situations in the long-run and may opt to labor under less-than-ideal circumstances. | JOHAN BROOKS 'They essentially want to be generalists who can adapt across roles and industries, yet they also seek to develop skills that make them stand out in any organization,' Fujii says. 'This reflects a move away from Japan's legacy of lifetime employment toward a focus on employability.' Not everyone is driven by ambition, however. Fujii notes that among workers in their 20s and 30s, common reasons for leaving a company include inability to build a meaningful career or uncertainty about their future after seeing senior employees stuck in the same roles for years. 'Even if they look at their seniors and think, 'I don't see a future here,' they often don't know what steps to take and end up settling for the status quo,' he says. 'This is exactly what's meant by 'quiet quitting,'' he says — referring to a term describing workers doing the bare minimum to meet their job requirements. Exit and reentry Back in 2017, Toshiyuki Niino founded Exit — a pioneer in offering services that communicate an employee's intention to resign to their employer. For ¥20,000 ($140), someone from Exit will quit your job for you. Known as taishoku daikō (roughly, resignation proxy service), similar firms have launched since, offering those who can't find the courage to quit for one reason or another an easy escape route. 'Since then, the market has expanded,' says Niino. 'Back then, resignation services probably still had a somewhat shady image, but now they're everywhere — like bubble tea shops.' In fact, nearly a third of young professionals living alone in the Tokyo area said they would consider using a resignation agency to quit their jobs, according to a recent survey by real estate firm FJ Next Holdings. The poll, conducted in February among 400 men and women in their 20s and 30s, found that 6.8% would 'definitely' use such a service, while 21.8% said they were 'somewhat likely' to. Companies are gradually adjusting their corporate cultures to be more welcoming to younger workers. | JOHAN BROOKS Niino, who quit three jobs before launching Exit when he was 27, says around 70% of his firm's clientele are those in their 20s. 'Our client base hasn't changed much — it's still mostly people in so-called 'black' industries (a term for exploitative workplaces with harsh conditions and long hours), mainly food service, health care and elder care, and construction-related jobs,' he says. 'But recently, there's been a noticeable increase in clients from IT sales and startups.' Among them, there's a clear group focused on cost-performance or time efficiency, Niino says — people who aren't dealing with toxic workplaces or bad relationships but choose to quit because they don't feel like they're growing or because there are no senior colleagues they look up to. 'I think, in Japan, quitting a job has become almost like a kind of ritual. Legally, you're allowed to resign with two weeks' notice, but in reality, it's rare for someone to leave cleanly within that time frame,' Niino says. 'People end up tiptoeing around their boss' mood, getting asked to stay on for at least three more months, training their replacement and making rounds to say goodbye. As a society, I think that whole process is incredibly inefficient.' Thus, Niino says, they turn to resignation agencies such as Exit to make a clean, quick break. Broadly speaking, Niino says his firm serves two main types of workers. The first group are the quiet quitters who want to do the bare minimum — they're not interested in growth or purpose, and they have no concern for the company's vision or what the CEO thinks. For them, work is simply a way to earn money, and they prioritize ease and a comfortable environment. The second group is made up of young workers in Tokyo striving to succeed in the heart of capitalism — in startups and fast-paced ventures. They also typically fall into two camps: those who chase high pay, even if it means enduring a 'black' company, and those who seek purpose and satisfaction in their work. 'In the end,' Niino says, 'we get requests from both types.' Economic pressure There are many surveys — both government and private — on young people's attitudes toward work. While results vary depending on the study, certain common trends have emerged that back up Niino's observations. 'For example, when it comes to how much value young people place on work-life balance, many surveys consistently show that this has become increasingly important,' says Yuki Honda, a professor at the University of Tokyo and an expert on the youth labor market. 'However, other surveys reveal a different group of young workers who disregard such concerns — they're willing to work long hours if it means they can improve their skills. This suggests a polarization is taking place.' Many younger workers hope to find a job that allows for flexibility and a good work-life balance. | JOHAN BROOKS Regionally, there's a clear difference between urban and rural areas, Honda says. The go-getters are concentrated in major metropolitan areas, while young people in rural regions tend to be more stability-oriented. 'One major driver seems to be economic pressure — many young people simply don't have enough money,' Honda says. According to the Cabinet Office's Public Opinion Survey on Social Awareness from November 2023, the number of people in their 20s and 30s who responded that they 'lack financial security or outlook' increased significantly in both 2022 and 2023. Prolonged inflation appears to be a major source of growing financial anxiety among them. 'While skill-building is part of it, there's a growing sense of urgency: Unless they act, they risk sinking,' Honda says. 'That feeling of crisis is becoming more pronounced, though the ability to take action appears split between two extremes.' The gig economy has had an effect on the way young Japanese view their careers. | JOHAN BROOKS Meanwhile, Honda says many young workers are increasingly pushing back against the practice of being randomly assigned to jobs or locations without prior notice — a phenomenon colloquially referred to as haizoku gacha, likened to the randomness of gachapon capsule toy machines. In response, more companies are adopting so-called job-based hiring, offering clearly defined roles and responsibilities from the start. Unlike Japan's traditional membership-based model — where employees are hired as general members of the company without set duties before being assigned specific tasks — job-based hiring provides greater transparency and a clearer career path. 'While not yet widespread, some employers now recognize that clarity is essential for attracting younger talent,' she says. Ganeko, the taxi driver on the hunt for her next job, agrees. 'I'd like to know in advance which department I'll be assigned to — so I can mentally prepare and get ready ahead of time.' In the past, many companies would hire first and then slot the employee into a different variety of positions later. Now, more firms are defining job responsibilities from the get-go. | JOHAN BROOKS She still has time to decide what path to take next. In university, Ganeko was drawn to the issue of poverty in her native Okinawa and hoped to one day help find a solution. 'I'm thinking about starting my own business someday,' she says. 'So I want to learn about children's education, study how small businesses and their leaders approach management, and gain experience and knowledge that could help me address poverty.'
Forbes
2 days ago
- Business
- Forbes
Layoffs: 5 Steps To Bounce Back From Job Loss In 2025
The suddenness of a job layoff can be upsetting, even traumatic, causing you to lose your grounding, ... More confidence and career direction. But experts say layoffs can open up a new world for your career. Over the past few years, tens of thousands of workers have faced unexpected layoffs as AI and automation disrupt traditional software engineering, IT and product management roles. In January 2025 alone, over seven thousand employees from 31 major tech companies lost their jobs. One of those, the news publisher Forbes, laid off about five percent of its staff. Who's next? Labor market volatility is unearthing fears of layoffs in 2025 that the American workforce is forced to live with. But experts are bringing hope to the uncertainty that layoffs can be a new beginning in disguise. Recently, Tech giant Microsoft and automaker Nissan became the latest major employers to announce mass layoffs, cutting thousands of jobs. The moves highlight the persistent volatility of the global labor market—even within some of the world's most stable and recognizable brands. These trends are causing 67% of the workforce to worry about the economy's impact on their current jobs, according to the Workforce Pulse Survey from Remote. Working in a job that could end at any moment creates stress and limits control over your life. Side hustles have become the new normal for full-time employees to offset the massive uncertainty. Side gigs free your mind with the autonomy to be the captain of your own ship, if you're suddenly laid off. instead of a passenger whose fate is determined by big business that might not have your best interests at heart. Nearly half of American workers use secondary income sources, and the numbers continue to rise. The Remote survey found that 75% of the respondents either have a second side hustle or have considered one to protect from threats of layoffs. A layoff (or constant threat of being laid off) can be deeply disturbing--even traumatic. An unexpected, sudden layoff can feel like you're blindsided by a truck. It can upend your security, confidence and career plans and significantly impact your mental health. But a layoff isn't the end. It's often a beginning in disguise. In fact, many career experts insist that a layoff can be a pivotal moment--a new beginning for your career. Consider this instance. After thousands of tech workers were laid off, they made shocking career pivots into industries they had never considered before, snagging stable job security and six-figure incomes in six surprising fields: aviation & aerospace mechanics, skilled trades (such as HVAC, electrical and plumbing), cybersecurity & fraud prevention, adult entertainment tech administration, medical IT & healthcare technology and freelance & independent tech consulting. Experts argue that a layoff from your job, although jolting, can also be a pivotal moment—an unexpected opening to reassess, refocus and take meaningful steps forward. Alari Aho, career expert and CEO of Toggl Hire, shared with me five actionable strategies to take if you're faced with a sudden job layoff. 'Getting laid off isn't a failure—it's part of your career story. But how you tell that story makes all the difference. Whether on LinkedIn, in interviews, or at networking events, position the layoff as a business decision, not a personal one. Focus on what you learned and what you're now looking for. By owning the story, you not only regain confidence, but you also reshape how others perceive your potential going forward.' 'Treat your post-layoff period as a rebranding opportunity. Update your LinkedIn headline, bio and CV with clarity about your value and direction. Even a short, thoughtful post sharing your availability and recent achievements can spark unexpected connections. It's not about asking for a job—it's about reminding people what you bring to the table.' 'Don't just job hunt—network with purpose. After a layoff, your network becomes your most valuable asset. Reach out to former colleagues, mentors, and clients with a clear, specific message about what you're looking for.' 'Layoffs offer rare breathing room to learn. Whether it's a short course in AI tools, a certificate in digital marketing or refining your personal pitch, targeted upskilling can sharpen your competitive edge. Highlight these steps on your profile and in interviews—it signals resilience, initiative and relevance in a fast-changing market.' "This is a time to be seen. Share insights, comment on industry trends, or even document your comeback journey online. Visibility builds credibility—and it helps recruiters and hiring managers find you. Being active doesn't mean being loud; consistency and authenticity are more powerful than perfection." Aho reminds us that layoffs don't define us—but how we respond can. 'This is a rare moment to pause, reset and show what you're really made of,' he contends. "With the right mindset and strategy, many professionals come out of layoffs stronger, more focused and better positioned for long-term success.' He adds that layoffs aren't the end, either. They're a rebranding moment. 'It's a chance to take control of your story, redefine your professional identity and show the market what you're truly made of.' He suggests that you start by owning the narrative—frame the layoff as a business decision, not a personal failure. Then sharpen your value through a thoughtful rebrand, reconnect with your network with purpose and use any downtime to upskill in ways that align with where you want to go next. Business leaders urge that in 2025 full-time employees build gig jobs as a safety net, not only as extra income to make ends meet but as career insurance in case your job disappears or you're faced with layoffs. Studies show that many laid-off workers end up in side hustles with more autonomy, making higher salaries than in their previous positions that rival full-time wages. Aho advises that after layoffs, it's important for you to stay visible—share your voice, insights and journey. "With clarity, consistency and a bit of courage, what feels like a setback can become the launchpad for your strongest comeback yet," he concludes.
New York Times
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- New York Times
Jordon Hudson, Kash Patel and MJ's fax machine: Pablo Torre's ‘terminal content brain' battles the algorithm
He remembers the sweat trickling down his forehead, feeling the weight of his ambitions and the future he'd mapped out. Pablo Torre could see it: a spot in an esteemed law school, a summer clerkship for a Supreme Court justice, a corner office for a corporate law firm in midtown Manhattan. It wasn't the path his parents had pushed for — both were doctors and badly wanted him to attend medical school — but it would certainly suffice. Advertisement He was an honors student at Harvard, the sociology major who edited The Crimson and won an award for his 114-page thesis, 'Sympathy for the Devil: Child Homicide, Victim Characteristics and the Sentencing Preferences of the American Conscience.' Next up was law school. Torre spent the summer holed up in the library, studying for the test that would open the door to the rest of his life. 'If a genie had appeared to me and said you have three wishes, I would've used one on a perfect score on the LSAT,' he says now. 'It was the thing standing between me and the dream.' A panic attack wasn't a part of the dream. But while he sat at his desk and started the test, the angst, the pressure — all of it — began crashing into him. I'm ruining my life, he told himself. He bombed the test. Everything swerved that day, and Torre still wonders what life would look like if it hadn't. 'Failing that test ended up being the thing I am most thankful for in my entire life,' he says. Because without it, the 39-year-old isn't the busiest man in sports media and having the moment he is. There's no fact-checking job at Sports Illustrated, no 11-year run at ESPN, no chance to start his own show, 'Pablo Torre Finds Out.' There's no Edward R. Murrow award, nor Peabody nomination, nor headline-generating investigation into Bill Belichick and Jordon Hudson, Belichick's girlfriend and business manager. There's no recurring seat on MSNBC's 'Morning Joe,' either, with the possibility of bigger things on the horizon. None of it happens if Torre doesn't bomb the LSAT his senior year of college. He retook the test and passed. But a year passed — then another, then another — and Torre never got around to applying for law school. 'By the time my LSAT score expired, I had realized something,' he says. 'I was a journalist.' He remembers feeling like a fraud, mostly because he was. He was a year out of college and sitting across from Bill O'Reilly on Fox News' top-rated show, trying to make a salient point about Michael Phelps' historic haul at the 2008 Summer Olympics. It didn't go well. O'Reilly barely let him get in a word. But for Torre, it opened a door. Advertisement He was doing two things at once: honing his journalistic chops at Sports Illustrated by going line by line through work from some of the best writers in the business: Gary Smith, S.L. Price, Tom Verducci — the 'f—ing lions of literary sports journalism,' Torre calls them — and simultaneously inching his way into debate television. Whenever a network booking agent asked for someone from the magazine to fill a seat and dish on the day's sports news, most writers shrugged. Torre jumped, credentials be damned. In time, he admits, he became 'radicalized by the drug of television.' He'd pre-write arguments and rehearse lines in private. He'd anticipate rebuttals and memorize witticisms, then pounce on the air when he sniffed an opening. Within a few years, the grunt from the fact-checking department had found his voice. He also was climbing the ranks at the magazine. Torre's 2009 investigation, 'How (And Why) Athletes Go Broke' started as mere curiosity. He spent months reporting and writing the story on his days off, not telling anyone. After publication, it would become one of the most-read stories in SI's online history and later the inspiration behind the ESPN 30 for 30 documentary, 'Broke.' The road wasn't as smooth as it sounds. Torre is a first-generation American — both parents are from the Philippines — whose athletic career failed to extend beyond seventh-grade CYO basketball. When it came to sports television, especially in the early 2010s, he didn't look like most on set. Didn't sound like them, either. He recalls telling a few friends at a barbecue in 2012 that he'd just taken a job at ESPN. 'So, like, in IT?' he remembers someone asking. 'Because he's not a former professional athlete and because he's Asian-American and because he uses big words, it makes him different. It can be scary to people,' says Mina Kimes, an NFL analyst at ESPN of Korean descent. 'It can make people question you in ways that other people aren't questioned.' Advertisement But, Kimes says, there are advantages, even if they're hard to see. 'It makes you stand out,' she says. 'It makes a different set of people who haven't been able to see themselves on TV excited to watch. I think Pablo's always recognized that, which is something I admire about him. He's never tried to be anything other than who he is.' What he became at ESPN was a Swiss Army knife, capable of writing 5,000-word profiles for the magazine while holding his own on shows like 'Around the Horn' and PTI. In 2016, Torre was rumored to be in the running to fill the chair opposite Stephen A. Smith on 'First Take.' Would he fit? Depends on who you ask. Torre's 'schtick,' as he calls it, doesn't always land, and his high-brow vocabulary turned off some viewers. 'Smug, condescending, arrogant,' New York Daily News media critic Bob Raissman wrote in a stinging assessment at the time. 'In other words, a perfect fit for ('First Take'). Looking down from Mt. Pablo, he delivers highfalutin sports edicts designed to make the rest of us schlubs look like idiots. Overnight, he would turn (Smith) into a man of the people.' Torre didn't get the job, but in 2018 he got the chance to co-host his own show alongside Bomani Jones. 'High Noon' was canceled after two years, with ESPN citing poor ratings. That led to Torre's initial pivot into podcasting, but hosting 'ESPN Daily' left him largely unfulfilled. Five days a week, he was essentially interviewing other reporters about their reporting. Privately, he never felt the buy-in from the bosses. 'I got the sense they really didn't care,' he says now. He felt stuck, a pinch-hitter in a bottomless lineup capable of holding his own on whatever show they threw him on but rarely doing something distinct. Part of Torre loved being a fill-in, riding the wave of success that others had built. It was safe. It was easy. 'I was a coward for a long time,' he admits. But something was gnawing at him. The more he became a bona fide talking head, the more his visibility grew and his paycheck fattened, the less he picked up the phone. He used to love picking up the phone. It went back to his first job in the business, the job that made him forget about law school. At SI, Torre was constantly calling sources, double- and triple-checking details gleaned by the likes of Smith, Price and Verducci, and offering him a glimpse into how great stories come together. 'It was like taking an MRI to art,' Torre says. It's what made him fall in love with journalism. Advertisement 'Pablo never actually left reporting,' says Erik Rydholm, a Torre friend and the producer behind PTI and 'Around the Horn.' 'It's part of his essence as a human being.' But that essence, Torre felt, needed a new outlet. When he surveyed sports media, he felt the industry had lost a sense of curiosity. Gone were the days he'd pick up a magazine eager to be wowed by what was inside. He knew he was as guilty as any. So much of his world was former jocks yelling at each other about LeBron or the Cowboys. He wanted to pick up the phone again. So he decided to leave ESPN. 'I tell my wife this show is our second child,' Torre says of 'Pablo Torre Finds Out,' his show for Meadowlark Media that launched in 2023. He's been accused of having 'terminal content brain,' which means he can't turn it off. Every interaction, no matter how trivial, could end up being a bit. 'When your job is professional curiosity,' he says, 'it's all-consuming.' Some of Torre's closest friends had a running joke after his daughter was born: How long until she shows up in an episode? To their surprise — and relief — it hasn't happened yet. 'He's shown great restraint not turning his daughter into a content mill,' jokes pal and regular PTFO guest Katie Nolan. Torre is still part-time at ESPN, filling in on PTI and 'Around the Horn' — until its 23-year run ended this month — while his presence on MSNBC continues to grow. He's a regular on 'Morning Joe' and recently guest-hosted for a full week. MSNBC producers were so impressed when Torre came on to talk sports that they decided he should be talking politics, too. It took longtime host Joe Scarborough all of five minutes to recognize the budding talent. 'Oh,' Scarborough mouthed to a producer during Torre's first appearance, 'this guy's good.' 'We really think we've found somebody,' Scarborough says. 'He jumps on a few times with us and we immediately start hearing from people all over the company, 'This guy's great!' Management seems to love him up and down.' Advertisement All those reps Torre logged debating Dak and the Cowboys and LeBron and the Lakers helped ease the transition. He's become an incisive voice on the network, whether discussing the downfall of Twitter — 'It's like Elon Musk moved into my phone and I have to leave,' he said on air — or the country's immigration crisis. 'Pablo makes TV look easy,' Scarborough says. 'I can promise you, it's not.' Despite two high-profile television roles, it's 'Pablo Torre Finds Out' that doubles as both a passion project and the biggest bet of his career. One of the reasons Torre had to leave ESPN, he realized, 'was that I wanted to take on subjects and investigate stories I didn't think I had the green light to do there.' At PTFO, he says, 'adversarial journalism is something I strategize around.' The reason? Fewer and fewer were doing it. Torre felt that too many sports podcasts were built on the same premise: tackle the day's news, interview some big names, churn out takes of varying temperatures. 'This is something Pablo and I have talked a lot about,' Kimes says. 'These days everybody just talks about what's trending on the internet instead of opening up a magazine or a newspaper and being led to stories they never expected to read, stories that are incredibly well done and fascinating.' What Torre wanted, he says, was a show 'that would cut through the noise in a way people were not used to in this medium.' It all went back to a lesson he learned at Sports Illustrated. 'When you're reporting a story,' he says, 'the best stuff you get is the s— you don't predict.' PTFO wouldn't traffic in typical sports fare, even though he knew that's what the metrics told him audiences wanted. 'The algorithm rewards the biggest headlines and the biggest characters and the biggest stories,' Torre concedes. But where was the surprise in that? Advertisement 'I look at all the races being run,' he continues. 'I'm not a former professional athlete. I can't sit around and tell stories about my decades-long career. I'm not going to do f—ing pizza reviews. I'm not going to sing karaoke in cars. I'm not gonna eat hot wings across from celebrities.' So he hired a staff of around a dozen producers and editors, added a rotating cast of correspondents and sought to find stories everyone else was missing. 'I knew it'd be good,' says Meadowlark Media co-founder and longtime sportswriter-turned-radio host Dan Le Batard. 'I knew it was going to surprise me. I could trust that I would follow him on a journey that would end up with a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.' In the 19 months since its launch, PTFO has interviewed a Cowboys fan on death row in a Texas supermax prison (the episode that earned the show a Peabody nomination). It uncovered how Russian oligarchs were quietly puppeteering the world of Olympic saber fencing. It interviewed Ember Zelch, a transgender athlete at the heart of one of the country's stickiest debates (the episode that won an Edward R. Murrow award). 'Pablo could be doing anything he f—ing wants, which is why he's hosting four hours a day on MSNBC,' says Ezra Edelman, a Torre friend and the Academy Award-winning director of 'O.J.: Made in America.' 'He's got a huge brain. He just chose the toy department as his lane because he wanted to use sports as a way to explore bigger issues.' Current and former colleagues like Le Batard, former ESPN president and Meadowlark co-founder John Skipper, Kimes and Nolan are staples of the show. One episode featured Torre and a few friends sampling every brand of athlete-sponsored cannabis they could find, complete with reviews. For another, they tried to track down the fax machine Michael Jordan used to send his world-shaking 'I'm Back' memo in 1995. Another featured a tongue-in-cheek inquiry into whether Bucks star Giannis Antetokounmpo was deliberately missing fourth-quarter free throws to gift the home crowd free Chick-Fil-A. 'The hardest thing to do these days at the algorithm trough we're all feeding at is to constantly produce the things that people say, 'Oh, I wish I had thought of that,'' Le Batard says. 'That's being friends with Pablo,' Nolan adds. 'He'll tell you a story idea he has and you'll whisper to yourself, 'Why can't I think of stuff like that?'' The show has its detractors. Marcus Jordan, son of Michael, and Larsa Pippen, ex-wife of Scottie, bristled at the way they were portrayed in an October 2023 episode of PTFO. 'It was very one-sided,' Pippen said on an episode of the couple's podcast. 'It was a hit piece.' PTFO has been threatened in the form of nasty emails and phone calls but has yet to be sued. Torre calls this a win considering some of the subject material covered. A recent episode dug into how and why a Venezuelan soccer goalie — a man with no criminal history — disappeared amid the Trump administration's anti-immigration efforts. Another centered on FBI director Kash Patel and his relationship with Wayne Gretzky. Advertisement 'This is a famously vindictive guy who has pledged to investigate journalists and seek retribution against the deep state and their enablers in the media,' Torre says of Patel, before half-jokingly adding, 'He might be listening to this call right now!' No story has generated more traction than his reporting into Belichick, 73, and Hudson, 24. After 'The Jordon Rules' was released on May 9, Torre appeared on dozens of shows to discuss the findings and the fallout, a media car wash of sorts that catapulted PTFO into the mainstream. The University of North Carolina refuted some of his reporting, including the allegation that Hudson was banned from the UNC football facility. Hudson called Torre's reporting 'slanderous, defamatory and targeted' on Instagram before deleting the post. The attacks on his credibility have irked him — 'I'd be lying if I said that didn't bother me,' he explains — but Torre says he stands by his reporting 'in totality and in specific.' He won't apologize for the tabloid nature of the stories, nor will he hide from the fact that he genuinely enjoyed uncovering what he did. 'It's both highbrow and lowbrow,' he says, 'a study of power that's rarely this unvarnished and this embarrassing.' PTFO, it seems, is straddling an ever-graying line in modern journalism, balancing the need to attract and maintain an audience without compromising its ethical backbone along the way. Torre knows he's playing the game. He believes for his show to survive, he must. 'I would love it if the Jordon Hudson story was not 10 times more popular than the thing that got us nominated for a Peabody,' he says. 'But I also know that the hardest thing in podcasting and digital media is people literally being aware that you even exist.' Thus, the unifying premise of the show remains unchanged: uncover something surprising. Mix the silly — even the salacious — with the smart. 'All I want people to know is we do three of these a week, and if you think this one's a little too lowbrow for you, A.) my mom agrees and B.) we're doing stuff that I think proves we are defined by, more than anything, our range,' he says. 'I just want (the Belichick/Hudson story) to be a reason people click on the other stuff. Advertisement 'To me, that's the joy of trying to navigate the algorithm in 2025 … as well as the torture of it.' For Torre, the greatest affirmation comes when someone tells him they listened to an entire episode of PTFO after initially having no interest in the topic. He hopes to ask — and answer — enough questions to keep them coming back. 'It occurred to me that the show's name was the perfect title because it embodied what it meant to be a reporter and discover and be surprised,' he says. 'But it will also be the perfect epitaph if all of this goes horribly wrong.' (Illustration: Demetrius Robinson / The Athletic; photo courtesy of Meadowlark Media)
Daily Mail
7 days ago
- Entertainment
- Daily Mail
Maria Shriver reveals how getting fired from CBS was the 'wake-up call' she desperately needed
Maria Shriver has reflected on the impact of her shock firing after her entire show was axed. She was anchoring CBS Morning News - pouring in early-morning energy, and, as she candidly admits, more emotion than she should have been giving to a job. On the latest episode of The Jamie Kern Lima Show, Shriver explained that she had convinced herself the program was her 'family,' a word she now laughs at because the feeling was seemingly not mutual. When CBS pulled the plug, she felt blindsided and instantly untethered. 'It helped me realize, oh wait a minute, this is not my family. 'This place can throw me out in a second,' she told host Jamie Kern Lima. That sting, she says, was the moment her real education began. Shriver had grown up in a mission-driven Kennedy household where love sounded like 'good job - now what's next?' and nobody paused to discuss feelings. In fact, she admitted that growing up, she and her family never said 'I love you' to each other. So, as an adult, she translated approval into achievement and naturally treated the newsroom like Thanksgiving dinner. Losing the job forced her to redraw the boundary between who she is and what she does for a living. 'Had I not been fired, I probably wouldn't have had that wake-up call,' she admitted. In practical terms, the lesson was simple: a boss can like your work, but a job can't love you back. Emotionally, it was bigger. She realized she had to build the family atmosphere she craved at home, not at the anchor desk. That's why her four grown kids now hear 'I love you' on repeat - a conscious reversal of the stoic upbringing she once knew. They tease her for being strict and beg her to slow down, but they never question her affection. Looking back, she's grateful the cancellation came early, before her identity totally revolved around a corporate brand. It taught her to keep work in perspective, to measure self-worth in something sturdier than ratings. It also set the stage for future pivots - from NBC correspondent to California's First Lady to Alzheimer's advocate - none of which, she notes, define her entire being. Today, she coaches younger journalists to invest passion in their craft but loyalty in the people who'll still be there after the credits roll. 'So I need to think about my family, my real family,' she said. 'I think I need to think about my real life and put this part of my life in perspective.'
