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Amber Easby and Duncan Greive (Image design: Tina Tiller)
Amber Easby and Duncan Greive (Image design: Tina Tiller)

MediaJanuary 31, 2023

Some personal news: The Spinoff CEO Duncan Greive resigns

Amber Easby and Duncan Greive (Image design: Tina Tiller)
Amber Easby and Duncan Greive (Image design: Tina Tiller)

Duncan Greive founded The Spinoff in 2014. Today he has decided to hand the torch to his colleague and friend Amber Easby. He explains why.

I swear I thought of it first. Or at least, in parallel. I remember walking up the stairs to work on January 9, and for the first time, it was a trudge and not a bound. Instead of fizzing with energy to start the year, I felt a sense of mild anxiety. Not because of the people, the greatest colleagues anyone could ask for; nor the mission, which remains the only work I’ve ever really cared about. It was the hard and vitally important job of leadership which had, very suddenly, become something I approached with a kind of dread. I didn’t want to refine another strategy or make another speech. I was tired and bored of myself.

It was also about journalism. I’d found myself sneaking away from my day job to spend my evenings and weekends writing features. This past weekend, around dealing with our own flooded rooms, I wrote and reported, and it felt right. That’s what I used to do, before starting The Spinoff, then Hex Work Productions, then Daylight.  We started with two people at a tiny website called The Spinoff that no one had ever heard of. Using nothing but our own will and ingenuity we built these entities which now reach hundreds of thousands of people every month, and feel like they play a tangible and specific role in our media ecosystem.

When the pandemic came, the work got immeasurably harder – suddenly what started as a TV blog was truly life-and-death media – but that was OK, because it also became more meaningful. We also went from being a largely commercially funded organisation to one which relied on its members for the largest part of its income (we still do, and if you love The Spinoff, please show us by joining up). 2022 saw us largely returning to peacetime, and with that a whole new set of challenges and opportunities. 

When a rollercoaster becomes a tomb

For years, there was nothing else I wanted to do. But over the last few months, I found that pull starting to wane. Hard but achievable tasks I’d previously have relished loomed over me, seemingly insurmountable. Instead of putting time into them, I’d do some journalism instead. I wrote more and more as the year went on, and started to find my podcasts, The Real Pod and The Fold, even more stimulating than usual. I didn’t realise what was going on, thought it would surely pass. But when I found myself describing my job as a “beautiful tomb which I have built around myself” during an impromptu speech while camping at new year’s, I started to wonder whether I was actually OK.

It was less than two hours after walking up those stairs on January 9 that, quite involuntarily, I blurted it all out to my great friend Mark Kelliher, The Spinoff’s GM. An hour later, I was talking to our editor, Mad Chapman, and basically asking for a job. I wanted to write again, and have making media be the whole of my world, rather than running a media company. To my surprise, rather than trying to dissuade me, Mark and Mad instead had my back – said they thought we should try it. They could run the business, while I returned to my roots.

That elated peace lasted 24 hours, before Mark pulled me aside to say that he’d been offered an amazing job heading a content agency and that he was going to take it. Suddenly the beautiful tomb closed around me again. That’s the thing about tombs: they’re not designed with an exit.

Still, I was determined to stay the course, and within minutes of Mark’s news it became blindingly clear. We didn’t need a new GM, we needed a new CEO. And there was an impossibly perfect candidate just down the hall.

Meet the new boss

Her name is Amber Easby, and everyone who works at The Spinoff knows her very well. She was the founding leader of our video production company, Hex Work Productions, makers of beloved series like Scratched and Alice Snedden’s Bad News. She’s been a key member of our senior leadership team ever since she walked in the door, and has always had this extraordinary combination of energy, intellect and vision, with an effervescent sense of humour thrown in too. 

‘Media is under threat. Help save The Spinoff with an ongoing commitment to support our work.’
Duncan Greive
— Founder

Amber is a really singular individual, someone I have known for two decades, since we were both kids running round K rd, on the peripheries of the music scene. She has had a pretty wild career. She was merch manager for The White Stripes, touring the world with them at the height of their fame. She managed Special Problems when that video production house was one of the hottest in the world, making Lorde’s first video and shooting mega budget global TV commercials. She sold a book about band t-shirts to a New York publisher, and started DOC, Auckland’s best bar, while it lasted. Now she’s running The Spinoff, and will bring all her experience, drive, ideas and an immense care for people to the role. 

That will allow me to return to the newsroom, as a senior writer – finally awarding myself the staff writing job I always wanted but could never get in my twenties and thirties. I’ll be mostly writing about business, with a sideline in media and politics, sometimes straying back into pop culture, the scene from which I came. I’ll also soon be starting a new project which will be exclusive to members, so if you’re curious about that please become a member if you’re not already – heading into a recession, the support of our members is more crucial than ever. I’ll still play a role in the direction of the site, as chair of the board, but its strategy will be set and executed by Amber, and I couldn’t be happier about that, nor more excited about watching her go. 

It comes from and leads to other changes at The Spinoff too. Sophie Dowson, a brilliantly talented producer who works alongside Amber at Hex Work Productions, will step up to lead video across the companies. And we farewell Mark Kelliher, our GM, who will go and run a big and vibrant agency of his own at Drum. This all adds up to an entirely new era at The Spinoff, with Mad Chapman flying after a year as editor, and ready for the fresh energy of Amber, who she has worked with closely for years, at the head of it all.

As for me, I’m looking forward to just being one of the troops – a tool at their disposal, and watching what these two incredible wāhine toa do atop a little independent media organisation which still has big dreams and a vital public role to fulfil. I think there’s something to be said for knowing when you’ve done all you can, when it’s time to hand it over to the next generation with fresh legs for the next part of the relay, when you don’t have “enough left in the tank”. I think Jacinda Ardern jumping off the biggest job in the country with a week’s notice might have made it easier for the rest of us regular people to call time, and move onto something new.

‘Media is under threat. Help save The Spinoff with an ongoing commitment to support our work.’
Duncan Greive
— Founder

With that, I’m taking a week off, then looking forward to rejoining The Spinoff’s editorial meetings, under Mad’s direction and alongside my friend and fellow ex-editor Toby Manhire and all the rest of the team. Pitching some bad ideas, responding to breaking news, and re-discovering those old reporting muscles again.

To all those reading, this dream job was only possible because of you reading, listening, watching (and our partners sponsoring!) – and to members, this funny little company could never have survived, let alone thrived, without your support allowing us to be different, to be ourselves. So thanks to you all from this old journo, who finally escaped the tomb, which turned out not to be a tomb at all. I look forward to serving in a very different role this year, and watching Amber bring all she has to the greatest job I ever had.

Ngā manaakitanga,

Duncan Greive

Senior writer

The Spinoff

duncan@thespinoff.co.nz for story tips 

A flood of TikToks (Image: Bianca Cross)
A flood of TikToks (Image: Bianca Cross)

MediaJanuary 28, 2023

How TikTok decisively won the media coverage of Auckland’s floods

A flood of TikToks (Image: Bianca Cross)
A flood of TikToks (Image: Bianca Cross)

A quirk of timing left all Auckland’s institutions on the back foot. But social media, particularly TikTok, graphically showed just how bad the situation was.

Late afternoon on a Friday is known as time to quietly drop bad news. You have the plausible deniability of it happening during work hours, but knowing that most of the weekend newspapers will be full and journalists will have headed home. That goes doubly so ahead of a long weekend. It’s easy to spot a deliberately timed release, often from some branch of politics or the state.

Yesterday’s torrential downpour came right into that slot and it was just very bad luck. Rain which had been heavy the whole day built into a profound and sustained intensity which was unlike any precipitation event in living memory for Auckland. The data bears this out – Tāmaki Makaurau experienced more rainfall in 24 hours than at any equivalent period on record. This January has now recorded more rainfall than any month prior – and it’s still raining.

The city’s infrastructure collapsed in myriad ways. Motorways overflowed, with buses seen floating away. The airport not only flooded, but rising waters trapped thousands of people within its walls. Multiple supermarkets were inundated. Houses drifted off their foundations, and tragically there are two confirmed dead, with two still missing.

The city’s civic and political apparatus appeared paralysed too. The scheduled Elton John concert was only cancelled less than half an hour before it was scheduled to begin. The tens of thousands who had made it there were essentially trapped, with Auckland Transport having already noted that trains would not be running.

There was an air of political naivety, too. The country’s prime minister had been in office for just three days, and was hundreds of kilometres away in Wellington. Auckland mayor, Wayne Brown, was elected in October, and confoundingly waited until well after 9pm before declaring a state of emergency. Civil Defence and Waka Kotahi have no such excuse, and some channels were silent in the face of what is surely the most severe natural disaster to befall this city in decades.

Because of the quirk of timing, our major media institutions appeared thinly staffed and failed to interrupt scheduled programming. While both Newshub and 1 News had very strong packages, with drenched reporters standing in front of newly made lakes, neither had capacity to switch to rolling coverage, despite a situation unfolding which clearly warranted such a response. At the peak of the storm, when its precise nature was of maximum public interest, TVNZ 1 had Clark Gayford talking a couple through their home renovation.

This is not a critique of those organisations – they covered the story very well with the people they had to hand, and the great shrinking of revenues over the past two decades means that kind of failsafe staffing is fiscally irresponsible now. (Ironically the flooding might have been the best case yet for the RNZ-TVNZ merger, but has likely arrived far too late to alter its fate.) Both returned with 10.30pm bulletins which provided more context and startling imagery. Still, each turned to other stories before the first break.

The NZ Herald and Stuff both covered the story well through live updates, but it was only the following morning that the homepages finally had the density and texture of coverage the flooding demanded. Again, this was not a failure – it was a function of freakish timing and the financial impossibility of staffing in the face of the transfer of the advertising revenue which funds news to the likes of Google and Facebook. Radio might have been the medium which best adapted, with newbie Today FM particularly impressive.

Still, none could match the pace of social media, and this was a strange kind of triumph for user generated content. Each generation and different network had its own key platform. Whatsapp groups hummed with frequently-shared clips, Reddit sorted and elevated adroitly, while TikTok’s extraordinary algorithm immediately figured out that what scared and damp Aucklanders wanted was flood content, and it gave it to them in mass volume. (IG Reels was mainly vintage repurposed viral TikToks, as far as I can tell). While the city’s mayor prevaricated over whether to declare a state of emergency, its citizens watched their phones in horror as Auckland drowned under an unprecedented and vaguely biblical deluge.

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This is not uncomplicated. Social media coverage of natural disasters has historically been accompanied by a large volume of viral hoaxes, which shows that the boring work of verifying footage before airing it – a necessity for news organisations – doesn’t happen on social platforms. News organisations also seek attribution, which is often difficult to ascertain at pace. Deprived of context, clips could easily generate more fear and irrational, even dangerous, responses than is desirable.

Yet the floods show unequivocally that we live in a world of immediate user generated coverage of unfolding disasters, and that our official communication infrastructure is a long way from ready to respond at the required pace. Even on the Friday evening of a long weekend, we’re entitled to expect better.

Below are a selection of the TikToks which swiftly achieved massive audiences and showed the unfolding nature of the disaster, while also showing how humans responded to it with humour, heart and horror.

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View post on TikTok

View post on TikTok

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View post on TikTok