It's about capitalism, free speech, conglomerates -- and, some say, betrayal. It's a paradoxical turn of events. The publisher and editorial director of the journal of opinion The Nation, a man who is currently working on a book about the role of journals of opinion in an age of media conglomerates, Victor Navasky has found himself under attack -- and facing advertising boycotts -- for writing an opinion piece that some angry independent bookstore owners say is an "obsequious" tribute to a pernicious form of media conglomeration -- the Barnes & Noble superstores. He's been accused of venality, of conflict of interest because the giant chain places occasional full-page ads in The Nation.One columnist for the publication, Alexander Cockburn, joined the fray, attacking his boss for "fervently licking the boots of Barnes & Noble. . . one of those media giants The Nation had been decrying only a few weeks before." (Cockburn's column, by the way, ran in The Nation.) At least one independent bookstore owner pulled an ad, and dozens wrote Navasky to express their anger, outrage, and sense of betrayal.

What's all the fuss about? It all began this past summer when, in an op-ed piece in The New York Times, Navasky wrote that he had a "confession" to make. This man, whose left-wing periodical is known for its anti-corporate stance, revealed publicly that he found himself purchasing most of his books from one of the giant Barnes & Noble superstores in his neighborhood -- and not from the local independents. He even confessed that he had given only "lip service to the idea of independent shops." And he did not write that he was sorry to see a well-known local bookstore in his Upper West Side Manhattan neighborhood bite the dust. That store, he complained, couldn't get him the books he needed "in time for deadline or vacation reading." Describing the superstore's "yuppie trappings," the discounts on hardcovers, "the cafeteria-cum coffee bar, the racks crammed with journals from near and far," the frequent author readings, Navasky seemed smitten. But what really impressed him, he wrote, is the possibility that the superstores, by "taking private space into the public sphere," might provide a place "where people can hammer out the issues of the day."

Sounds like a great leap forward: a marriage of corporate profit-making and the world of ideas. But, of course, it's not that simple. And so Navasky pointed out in his piece that he did not want to "underestimate the danger that if the independents disappear, the chains will try to increase profits by dumbing down." He concluded with a suggestion that the best way to avoid this dumbing down might be to "patronize and strengthen the independents."

 This piece, this "confessional" musing about ideas and bookstores and the public sphere, created a furor, rousing seemingly irrational passions, a strange hostility to The Nation, a response out of proportion, it would seem, to the article. Bob Contant, co-owner of St. Mark's Bookshop in New York's East Village, pulled his ad from The Nation and wrote to other independent bookstores and independent publishers asking them to do the same. Contant argued that pulling the ad was "a statement. . . to make people think." Navasky's op-ed piece, he insists, was "a blatant promotional piece for Barnes & Noble. In the next edition [of The Nation], they ran a full back- cover ad.

"You don't need to take journalism 101 to know the power of money," he lectured. "Here's how it works: Someone at the Times solicited the piece and B & N is a heavy advertiser in the Times. But the press they get is terrible, even though they get a lot of puff pieces, [because] someone is always saying 'Worry about the little guy.' So what better way to [get better press] than to have someone from the left legitimize your point of view? B & N wanted someone to say it." And Navasky, at least in the view of Contant and others, was a willing spokesman.

Did Navasky expect that such a torrent of criticism would rain down on him? Should he have been aware there might be charges of conflict of interest because of the ads in The Nation? And what about the irony of the editorial director of The Nation writing such a piece in light of the publication's long-held anti-corporate editorial position?

Navasky was surprised by the furor his words created--especially, as he put it, by the "uncivil tone." "What I said was that Barnes & Noble was better than my image of chain stores," he explained, adding that he did, indeed, write the piece at the invitation of the Times, after he had been quoted in a Times news article about the demise of the local bookstore, Shakespeare & Co. "They were especially interested that I hadn't just dismissed the superstore out of hand," he said.

While some staff members at The Nation were distressed by the piece, many had no quarrel with his position. And most support not only Navasky's right to have his say in The New York Times, but his ethics, too. One senior staff member scoffed at the allegation that Navasky's actions were in any way venal: "Say what you will about Victor, he'd never do something for money. It's an absurd charge." And The Nation's advertising director, Perry Janoski, points out that B & N has been advertising in The Nation since last December, when he brought the account with him from VLS [the Voice Literary Supplement]. He says he saw the opinion piece as "a call to support the independents." Venality, it seems, is in the eye of the beholder.

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