The New Yorker‘s editorial staff has formed a union. As part of the announcement, the union has taken the magazine’s iconic mascot, Eustace Tilley, and redrawn him as a man ready to strike–so long as the effort doesn’t get his wingtips dirty.
— The New Yorker Union (@newyorkerunion) June 6, 2018
Gone is Tilley’s famous monocle; in its place is a raised fist. He still stands tall with that turtle-neck-ascot-thing he always wears, and his top hat gleams in the light with that fresh coating of contraband whale oil. His chin still reaches a perfect, 25-degree arc of contempt for, and judgement of, the world around him, like he’s checked his neck posture with a protractor in the bathroom of the nearest Starbucks before announcing to everyone and no one, “I would never drink a caramel frappucino” on his way out. And yes, he says “car-a-mél” in three full syllables, with a flourish that reveals he’s watched almost every show in the lineup of Masterpiece Theater at least once–some even twice.
The New Yorker is the latest media brand in a long wave to announce its intent to unionize–a trend that’s included Vice Media, Vox Media, the late Gawker Media, and full disclosure, even Fast Company. Given that union drives are often debated in a court of public opinion, it makes sense for staffers at the New Yorker to playfully brand their cause. Whale oil shined hat and all.