Gawker was a Rorschach test. When readers began sending me tips about celebrity sightings, and we published them in a recurring feature called Gawker Stalker, some celebrities accused us of directly endangering their safety. It didn’t matter that the sightings were after the fact, often days later, or that in many cases, it was the celebrity’s own publicist who was sending in the tip. It was easy, if not wholly accurate, to draw a line from that feature to the aggressive paparazzi style of TMZ or Deux Moi. But for others, Gawker Stalker made celebrities feel more human and accessible. There was something nice about knowing that Jon Stewart had gone to the same Dunkin’ Donuts you did or that your favorite musician took the subway.
Gawker’s DNA has since spread to other parts of media; its tone and style are replicated in countless spinoffs, and its alumni employed by major media companies, including The Times. It spawned an independent media model in which skepticism of elites and an appetite for mischief-making resulted in stories about power and its abuses (along with a lot of frivolous celebrity froth).
The lawsuit that shut it down has also cast a long shadow. Mr. Thiel came for Gawker Media after one of its blogs described him as gay. (It also reported that his hedge fund, Clarium Capital, was losing money.) He brought multiple lawsuits, but finally found the winning case — and a sympathetic courtroom — in the Hulk Hogan episode. The case hinged on whether Gawker had violated Mr. Hogan’s privacy, or whether, as an internationally recognized celebrity who frequently discussed his sex life in public, he no longer had a right to privacy.
Mr. Hogan was awarded a previously unimaginable $140 million. I wouldn’t have published that video myself, but to me the much bigger issue is what the case did to the First Amendment. It opened the door for anyone rich enough to fund a lawsuit (or two or three) to eviscerate a media organization whose coverage they don’t happen to like. Even if you hated Gawker, this should terrify you.
A couple of years ago, a new owner brought Gawker back to life. This last iteration of Gawker was nothing like the old one: It read more like a literary journal, with essayistic pieces and odd stories about esoteric things.
The original Gawker could never exist today. Gen X’s once seemingly edgy skepticism of institutional power has become Gen Z’s outright rejection of it. And, more to the point, nothing is too salacious for mainstream media to cover anymore. A former president is accused of paying a porn star hush money, and even the most highbrow outlets are obligated to cover it.
Social media has also democratized this kind of criticism and given social media users greater access to people in power. You can go on Twitter right now and tell Elon Musk directly to put his phone down and stop posting. (He won’t do it, but you can tell him.)
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