A version of this piece appeared first on Common Sense.
A few years ago, the editor-in-chief of The Hollywood Reporter pitched a story to the newsroom.
He had just come back from lunch with a well-known agent, who had suggested the paper take a look at the unintended consequences of Hollywood’s efforts to diversify.
Those white men who had spent decades writing scripts—which had been turned into blockbuster movies and hit television shows—were no longer getting hired.
The newsroom blew up.
The reporters, especially the younger ones, mocked the idea that white men were on the outs. The editor-in-chief, normally self-assured, immediately backtracked. He looked rattled.
It was a missed opportunity.
The story wasn’t just about white guys not getting jobs. Nor was it really about the economics of Hollywood.
It was about the stories Hollywood told and distributed and streamed on screens around the globe every day.
It was about this massively lucrative industry that had been birthed by outsiders and emerged, out of lemon groves, into a glamorous, glitzy mosh pit teeming with…
