There is an old saying in show business that goes like this:
Life is easy; it's comedy that's hard.
That adage came to mind as I finished Bob Mankoff's wonderful and warm memoir, How about Never--Is never good for you? My Life in Cartoons. That line also serves as the punch line to Mankoff's most famous cartoons. Mankoff is the cartoon editor of The New Yorker as well as a long time contributor to the magazine as a working cartoonist. Now turning 70 Mankoff looks back at his career not only with wry wit but with the soul of successful cartoonist, one blessed with a sense of irony as well as a work ethic that shapes his approach to his craft as well as his management style.
The punch line to the book's title is a caption to a cartoon where an executive is on the phone with someone that he obviously does not want to have lunch with. The setup line being. "No, Thursday won't work." Followed by the zinger. "How about never?" Mankoff has a unique perch about which to evaluate humor: as an artist, as an editor and as a former Ph.D. student in experimental psychology. The man knows how to analyze a joke without making your eyes cross because he understands the foundation of humor lies in a combination of incongruity and irreverence, with a dash of wit and zaniness. Oh, and it helps to be funny, too.
The gift that Mankoff delivers for those in management is this: know your craft and help the
While he is at pains to note how grateful as editor he is to be surrounded by so much talent, he realized in time that he owed it to The New Yorker (and its readership) to develop the next generation of cartoonists. And he has done so. Brilliantly, I might add, as evidenced by the final chapter of his memoir, that he turns over to the cartoonists that he has nurtured. And if these cartoons are any indication, readers of The New Yorker will be laughing well into the mid-21st century.
What Mankoff discovered in this discovery process that he would have to open up the evaluation process. And he did. He started an Open Tuesday afternoon where those aspirant cartoonists could come in for a chat. In time Mankoff found himself not just chatting but critiquing. It was the only way he felt he could help them get into the magazine. Please note that man of these folks were already established either by virtue of being published in other places or writing comedy for sitcoms or even doing standup. No slackers wanted.
The New Yorker is unique; its cartoon humor may not be always the funniest but over the generations (since 1926) it has cultivated an appeal for its readers who are well educated (perhaps too educated), are generally more liberal than conservative, and pride themselves on their cultural aesthetics. In short, its cartoons are not for everyone as Mankoff notes repeatedly. But as the editor it is his job to find the best cartoons (and by extension cartoonists) to deliver what New Yorker readers have come to expect.
In this role Mankoff is both mentor -- nudging and challenging talent -- and editor -- finding cartoons that complement The New Yorker humor profile. And as he notes, he realized that while his young up and comers were good, they also needed a break. And who better to give them a break than him? So he cut them some slack, choosing a cartoon or two by an aspirant cartoonist that might not be the very best but showed great promise of talent. In other words, Mankoff took chance on talent.
The lesson for managers looking to groom the next generation is this: don't expect perfection. What you can expect, as Mankoff does, is hard work. He expects working cartoonists to contribute 10 cartoons a week. (Yes, humor is hard work.) Same for managers. Next generation leaders need to hone their craft by putting in the time. The good news is they will be paid; unlike Mankoff's aspirant cartoonists who only receive compensation for what's purchased.
Managers like Mankoff who seek out talent, and develop it, will help their organizations meet the future with open arms. And in the case of Mankoff lots of laughs, too.
