Paying your dues

If you search for “leaving publishing” on Twitter, you’ll find a host of young professionals explaining why they no longer find working in traditional publishing tenable. 

Prohibitively low starting salaries are one clear issue. An editorial assistant’s average starting salary in London is £22,934, and many do unpaid work to gain a foothold. 

These numbers partially explain the loss of young talent, but inextricably linked to pay is a compounding cultural issue. Many report a culture of “paying your dues”, where hopefuls are expected to either put up with suboptimal conditions, or give up their position to one of many young people waiting to replace them. 

One London-based young publisher, who wished to remain anonymous, explains: “Talented, driven candidates such as my colleagues, desperate to break into an oversubscribed industry, have found themselves in poorly paid positions working unpaid overtime, struggling to pay the bills in big cities like London, often with little or no exposure to the area they wanted to work in.” 

This is unsurprising—publishing has long been characterised by toxic productivity. As agent Jon Michael Darga explains, overtime is often explicitly expected, “i.e. stating that reading, and often even editing, is to be done after work and on weekends, not at your desk.” This practice, while universal, weighs especially on underpaid juniors. “If the senior publisher is reading at home, why should assistants be exempt? The difference, of course, is that the publisher is making six figures.”

Many who once dreamed of working in publishing are seeking alternatives, pivoting to freelance work, or simply quitting

This trickle-down culture affects both individual wellbeing, and the industry as a whole. As author/editor/publisher David Haviland explains: “[There’s] a culture of long hours and presenteeism and, as a result, many talented people quickly burn out, and leave.” 

Long hours also precludes taking on a second job, often necessary to survive in expensive major cities. “It enforces a culture of privilege,” says Darga. “People from low-income backgrounds simply cannot afford to work in publishing.” 

“It’s well known that publishing is made up of predominantly privileged straight, cis, white employees, because of how inaccessible salaries and demands make the industry,” he continues, “which affects the types of books being acquired and the support given to books that are”.

Alongside these issues for diversity, dissatisfaction also stems from the type of work—with junior employees confined to administrative tasks before “earning the right” to creative work.

“Speaking from my own experience as an editorial assistant, my first role in the industry has been entirely admin-istrative, with no exposure to the editorial processes I was so keen to learn about,” explains our anonymous young publisher. “The industry takes advantage of many ‘pub-lishing hopefuls’, who—myself included—put up with this because publishing is so idolised, holding on to our hard-won positions despite overall poor working conditions.”

Understandably, many who once dreamed of working in publishing are seeking alternatives, pivoting to freelance work, or simply quitting—not to mention those turned off from ever applying. How might this troubling status quo be changed? 

Ideally, young employees could raise concerns with superiors—but workplace hierarchies and the desire to maintain industry connections makes this difficult. Furthermore, the ubiquity of the issue makes extra support hard to come by; many supervisors are in the same boat.

These painful teething years are sometimes seen as simply a “rite of passage” which senior staff also experienced—the key difference being the growing disparity between stagnant pay and the rising cost of living making these issues more acute than ever.

One clear move for change is increasing the conversation around workers’ rights and unionisation. The Society of Young Publishers recently encouraged members to join unions, stating “the strongest way to fight for fair conditions for yourself and others in publishing is by collective organisation and bargaining”. Similar rallying cries have already taken effect, with both Unite and the NUJ reporting increased membership this summer.

Beyond collective bargaining for improved pay, cultural shifts are necessary. The standard advice of maintaining strict office hours may seem helpful, but is difficult to implement individually. 

Instead of looking to employees, the onus should be placed on employers. “Publishers should establish clear boundaries about how and when staff can be contacted or required to work,” suggests Haviland. “In France, there’s a legal ‘right to disconnect’—to not answer emails or messages outside office hours. It’d be great to see UK publishers adopt something similar.”

Publishers should also decrease emphasis on “earning” editorial tasks. As editor Anna Bliss explains: “To draw and keep fresh talent, they’d be wise to expose new hires to all aspects of publishing (including creative, fun elements), facilitating learning and cultivating professional growth.”

Simply switching off at 6 p.m. sharp is no silver bullet fix; instead, publishing houses must adapt their ways of working, encourage healthier workplace cultures and compensate fairly. Judging by the current exodus, change can’t come soon enough.