TO OUR READERS

By WALTER ISAACSON MANAGING EDITOR

SINCE THIS IS MY FIRST NOTE TO YOU as the new managing editor of TIME, I'd like to introduce myself and share a few of my goals for a magazine that I have lived with and loved for more than 16 years.

As Time Inc.'s editor of new media for the past two years, I helped create products--like Pathfinder, our Internet service--that had no models or histories. Every day we faced issues for which there were no precedents to rely upon or be constrained by. Now I'm facing the opposite challenge, one that is no less exciting: helping invent a product that has been invented and reinvented nearly 3,800 times--every week for almost 73 years--and has a wealth of tradition unsurpassed by any other magazine that has ever existed.

Henry Luce, in the original prospectus for TIME, wrote that in an age when people were bombarded by information--not unlike the digital age we are entering--they were, ironically, becoming less informed. This magazine was created to provide synthesis and analysis that cut through the clutter and save readers time. That service remains just as valid, and that mission just as clear, today.

In New Orleans, where I come from, folks are divided into two categories: preachers and storytellers. I'm a bit more in the storyteller camp. I believe that ever since we invented campfires, narrative tales have been the best way to capture people's attention, to convey ideas and moral beliefs. And as an occasional biographer, I believe that portraying interesting people is a good way to make the world come alive. "TIME did not invent personality journalism," Luce once said. "The Bible did."

But I also believe that tales and profiles must have a point. For any TIME story, we must always ask, What are the questions we are trying to answer? What are the core issues? What are the facts? What ideas can we explore?

Ideas matter. What about cutting back on welfare in an attempt to break the cycle of dependency? We must report how that works and think as honestly as we can about it, because it matters. Community policing? School vouchers? Sending troops to Bosnia? Violence in movies and music? These debates involve fascinating philosophies--and reportable facts--that have the power to intrigue our minds and touch our daily lives. Our goal must be to treat such issues seriously, thoughtfully, honestly.

More specifically, I bring some passions based on my experiences. I've loved politics ever since I covered it as a newspaper reporter in Louisiana (the place, along with Chicago and Boston, where it is practiced with the most gusto) and then as a correspondent for this magazine. We must convey the human entertainment of campaigns, and also their true meanings.

I've also enjoyed writing about diplomacy and the cold war's conclusion. Part of TIME's mandate is to capture the drama of world events and the rumbling historic issues that underlie them.

As editor of new media, I grappled with the import and the impact of the digital age. I want TIME to be all over this story because the people and inventions and businesses involved are fascinating--and because they have the power to change our culture as nothing has since the invention of television.

Like TIME's readers, I am passionately curious about the wonders of science and the mysteries of our universe. Together, we'll explore them. I also know that the beauty of the arts, the glory of books and the delights of entertainment are what make our time on this planet so magical. TIME's criticism must be sharp, and its disdain for shallowness and degradation keen, because that is the truest way to show how much we care about the quality of our culture.

America has gone through two great ideological mood swings in my time, from the liberalism and activism of the '60s to the conservatism and decentralization of the Reagan and Gingrich revolutions. Each was valuable in its own way.

As we approach the millennium, I sense a third force arising that fits nicely with TIME's mission. America's pioneers created communities that were built around the spirit and the reality of a common ground. Since then our society has embraced two sets of values: an entrepreneurial individualism based on personal rights and liberties, and a community spirit forged at PTA meetings and Rotary clubs and countless other places where we gather to work together on issues of mutual concern. Tocqueville, I think, was wrong. These two strands of the American character are not in conflict; they are interwoven. They are the warp and woof of our national fabric.

TIME should be America's common ground. We should look at ideas with an open mind, testing them not against some standard of ideological purity but against the solid touchstone of our common sense and sensibility. Our ideals must reflect the shared values in the hearts of most Americans. To my mind, these principles are simple yet profound: try to figure out what's best for our kids; clean up after ourselves; have faith in the power that comes from free markets and free minds; realize that individual opportunity and neighborly compassion can go hand in hand; and always be willing to ask the question, "Yes, but does it work?"

These days, people talk a lot about making magazines hot. That usually translates into being a bit sensational, sometimes even cynical. Our goal is different. At a time when people have become distrustful of the press--and of politics and institutions in general--we have to earn the authority that comes from reporting hard, so that we will be truthful in our storytelling, and thinking hard, so that we will be credible in our assessments.

That means engaging in analysis rather than simply attitude, having core beliefs but not biases, following principles but not prejudices. (And perhaps avoiding a bit better Luce's fondness for alliteration.) Let us know what you think.

By capturing the excitement of the news and of the people who make it each week, and by recounting in full color the tales and the debates that form the first draft of history, we have the power to make the world--and you, and us--more interesting each week.