Perhaps the most urgent problem that CNBC has solved, though, is how to manage a flow of information that would overwhelm and paralyze most other businesses. A tsunami of data pours into the CNBC newsroom every minute of every trading day. Consider this measure: The NYSE and the NASDAQ, together, comprise about 9,100 publicly traded U.S. companies. At any given moment, Ron Insana or Sue Herera might have to talk about any one of those companies. Even if CNBC mentioned one company every minute during each of its 14 1/2-hour broadcast days, it would take more than two full trading weeks to mention every public company.
CNBC has developed two techniques for deciding what to talk about. The first: Let the markets decide. Listen to the markets, and talk about whatever they indicate is important -- particularly volatile stocks, heavily traded stocks, active stocks in placid industries, placid stocks in active industries, and companies that are making news. Imagine what the economy would be like if every organization could listen to its market the way that CNBC listens to its financial markets.
The second technique that CNBC reporters use is as old as the news business itself: They talk to people. All of the on-air personalities do their own off-air reporting, and the most common opening question -- whether it's from Bartiromo, Faber, or Insana -- is "What's happening?" It's amazing what you can learn by asking a modest question and then listening to the answer.
Harvey Bass is obsessed with CNBC. He gets to his office in Sparta, New Jersey at roughly 5:30 AM, immediately turns on CNBC, and keeps it on 13 hours a day. Bass is so obsessed that for Christmas last year, his employees secretly arranged for him to spend half a day at CNBC's studios so that he could get a behind-the-scenes tour.
Funny thing though, Bass doesn't own a single stock. But he does own a 60-person high-tech recruiting company, Sales Consultants of Sparta, which is affiliated with Management Recruiters International Inc. He started watching CNBC in April 1999 to get business tips.
"Our company has benefited tremendously," he says. "Probably 70% of what I hear on CNBC has to do with tech-related stocks, and that's where we recruit. So I might see something flashed on TV about, say, Intuit -- good or bad. I'll immediately send a memo to all 60 people at my company: 'Intuit's in trouble and may be a good source of talent!' Or 'Intuit is hot! Let's try to get an appointment with its VP of sales to see if we can get an assignment!' "
His CNBC flashes are broadcast every day. "Last year, CNBC was directly responsible for getting us $250,000 of business and was indirectly responsible for about $500,000," says Bass. "A network that keeps a guy like me -- who has no attention span -- listening for 12 hours a day, must be doing something right."
Maria Bartiromo, CNBC's "Money Honey," is a two-finger typist -- though when a deadline is pressing, she can ramp up to three fingers, or maybe four. It's just past 8 AM, and Bartiromo has already done one live report; she's got six more to do before 10 AM, including two from the floor of the NYSE. Plus, she's got a couple of reports to do for the Today show and for some NBC network affiliates. (They ask, and she says, "Sure.")
During a two-hour period, Bartiromo will do a live shot every 10 minutes on the day ahead at the stock market, plus she'll talk to at least 20 people at trading desks, brokerages, and hedge funds, trying to find out what's going on.
The phone rings. Bartiromo snatches it. "Yeah? I got it. Is it trading up? And your target price is 84? Thanks."
The phone rings again. "Okay, thanks. Why would that be in their interest? Okay." She grabs a call off hold. "Hi, Mark! Yes, I have it. I ran out of time. You sent it, I will get to it. Uh-huh. Why?" She's taking notes as furiously as three fingers allow, but she may or may not be actually listening. Bartiromo listens selectively: You think she's paying attention, but she cut out 30 seconds ago to concentrate on something more urgent.
The "New York Post" nicknamed Bartiromo the "Money Honey" -- because standing on the floor of the exchange, screaming about stocks while male traders career around her, she's attractive, popular, and distinctive. That nickname has stuck, but whatever image it conjures of glamour, of a charmed life amid stock-market millions, is absurd. Bartiromo is well paid and well known. While her work isn't lifesaving or demanding in the way that a doctor's or an attorney's is, CNBC's "Money Honey" works like a drudge, much harder than a cub reporter at a big newspaper, much much harder than most TV newspeople.