Cycle World Editorial

CYCLE WORLD EDITORIAL

PAUL DEAN

Status is seldom ever quo

Funny thing about change: The longer something goes without it, the more it becomes expected. Yet whenever change finally does take place, the more it seems, er, unexpected.

What has just happened here, then, makes perfect sense. No one expected Allan Girdler to remain the Editor of Cycle World forever; that he had held the position for more than seven years prompted many observers to predict that at any moment, he would turn in his key to the executive toolbox and motor off into the sunset in search of new challenges. But when he publicly announced a few months ago that he fead decided to do precisely that, most of those people were shocked.

Same goes for the move that has, as of last month’s issue, brought me to Cycle World. This past February, I celebrated my 11th year of uninterrupted service at one of this magazine’s competitors, Cycle Guide, and so the consensus amongst those who appoint themselves to worry about such things was that I was long overdue for some sort of a change. And I suppose that was a perfectly logical conclusion for them to reach; 1 1 years is an eternity in the moto-magazine business, an endeavor in which editorial types seem to change employers more frequently than some people change socks. Nonetheless, a surprisingly large number of people, including those with whom I had worked at Cycle Guide, were dumbfounded when they learned that I was terminating my long-standing relationship with that motorcycle magazine to take over as Editor of this one.

Making that move was one of the toughest things I’ve ever had to do. The staff and management of that magazine had come to be almost like family to me, and as I was cleaning out my desk and saying my goodbyes, I felt more like a £id leaving home for the Foreign Legion than a grown man simply changing jobs. And I imagine that Allan Girdler’s decision to leave the editing profession altogether was no piece of cake for him, either. It’s of some consolation, at least, that I, like Girdler, was able to part Company with my former employer on the best of terms no hard feelings, no sour grapes, no parting cheap shots, just an acknowledgement by all involved that the time for change had come.

Anyway, the real issue here is not what these moves mean to me or to Allan Girdler, but what they mean to you, the reader. And in the end, that’s a question to which only you have the right answer, regardless of what I might say here. One thing’s for certain, though: Cycle World is going to be a changed magazine. For some of you that change will be only slight, for others it will seem extensive; either way, the magazine will be different.

It could hardly be anything else. A magazine invariably reflects the thinking of its Editor more than it does that of anyone else on the staff; that’s why he’s the Editor, presumably. And you’d have to look far and wide to find two people who are more out of philosophical alignment than Allan Girdler and I. We both are courting a lifelong love affair with motorcycles, but other than that we have little in common. We’re different in virtually every way, particularly in how we perceive the sport of motorcycling and in the way we prefer to captain a magazine that deals with those perceptions. Each of us, naturally, thinks his own approach is right and the other’s is not; and in the final analysis, maybe neither way of doing things is correct. But once again, that appraisal is in your hands. All I ask is that from this point onward, you judge each issue of Cycle World on its own merits, not on how similar or dissimilar it might be to issues prior to this one.

Besides, there is one all-important subject on which the former Mr. Editor Girdler and I see eye-to-eye: you. When, in his farewell Up Front column (May, 1984), he collectively referred to you readers as “The Boss,” he wasn’t just blowing smoke up your pipes; that statement was about as sincere as any you’re liable to hear or read. And although my particular modus operandi differs substantially from his, my sentiments about you readers do not: You’re what this magazine is all about.

It’s easy to be skeptical about that claim, to conclude that we put out this magazine for some reason other than the mere $1.50 (or less, from subscribers) we get from the sale of each copy. After all, the advertisers pay us big bucks for the privilege of hawking their wares in these pages, so perhaps that’s the reason we do this. Or maybe we do it only because we’ve found someone gullible enough to pay us for riding around on a fresh batch of brand-new motorcycles every month.

Those are, admittedly, a couple of the many legitimate reasons why someone might want to be in this business, but neither one is the reason why the magazine exists in the first place. The enjoyment we get from riding test bikes while doing one issue keeps us enthused about doing the next; and the profits our employers get from the advertising that appears in one issue helps pay for the next. So together, that enthusiasm and profitability are the means to the ultimate end, which is to provide you with the best possible package of monthly moto-info. If we fail to do that, we’ll soon have no readers; if we have no readers we have no magazine; and if we have no magazine, we obviously have no advertising.

So regardless of how you look at it, you are The Boss. Not the advertisers. Not the motorcycle manufacturers. Not even the people who sign our paychecks. You. I hope you never forget that, because I sure don’t. And neither does anyone else on this staff.

So, yes, there will be some changes in Cycle World, but they’ll be changes aimed at improving the quality of your life on two wheels, not ours or anyone else’s. I'm not going to make any rash, unkeepable promises about what this magazine will do for you in upcoming issues; I won't claim that reading Cycle World from now on will automatically keep your complexion clear, your checkbook balanced and your sister off the streets. But I do feel confident that you’ll like what we have planned.

Actually, we intend to continue with our usual package of moto-info—road tests, product evaluations, feature articles, competition coverage, service tips, news from around the world, and so on. That’s nothing radically different from what you’ll find in most other motorcycle magazines, but we hope to do it just a little bit better. And we want to enhance that basic package with some fresh ideas that help you find lots of new and different ways to, well, to just plain have more fun with your motorcycle.

So if you were worried that this change in Editorship was going to ruin your favorite magazine, I hope that I’ve assuaged most of your fears. Really, all I want to do with Cycle World is, in effect, make a few upshifts, not replace the whole transmission. And I hope to make those changes occur so smoothly that you’ll barely hear the gears mesh.

But do me a small favor, will you? When those changes do occur, don’t make a liar out of me. Act surprised; act like you weren’t expecting them.