Lessons From a South Carolina City’s Battle With a Judgmental N.Y.C. Writer

There’s a long, storied history of writers based in New York City—or write for publications based in New York City—angering people in just about every other part of the country.

The outrage formula goes something like this: The writer with big-city New York credentials writes something about a locality that is viewed by the locals who live there as belittling, relying on unfair or inaccurate stereotypes or presenting an image of the city that doesn’t fit the marketing materials produced by the local tourism bureau or Chamber of Commerce.

My first real exposure to this uncomfortable dynamic came in 1997 when a New York Times writer penned a feature about my hometown, Grand Rapids, Michigan, which was at the time hosting an amazing special exhibition of the Renaissance master Pietro Perugino.

Some of the Perugino art had never before been seen outside of Italy but had ended up for a short time in Michigan’s second-largest city because of a proactive sister-city relationship and the help of some prominent local philanthropists. All those factors were certainly deserving of attention from the Grey Lady.

The Times' writer, Bruce Weber, said that Grand Rapids was “not exactly a prominent pin on the cultural map” and described the Grand Rapids Art Museum, then housed in a former Beaux-Arts federal building downtown, as a place that “feels more like a weathered high school than a storehouse of beauty.”

Re-reading the Times article in full today, those controversial lines were actually fairly accurate for the time and shows just how much Grand Rapids has grown and matured as a city. (There’s now a purpose-built modern facility that houses today’s art museum and because of Art Prize, Grand Rapids can lay claim to some notion of being a “prominent pin on the cultural map.” See my piece from last year about Grand Rapids’ downtown revitalization.)

But at the time, nearly 20 years ago, The Times article came off locally as a Grand Rapids hit piece written by an arrogant New Yorker who wanted to belittle a wholesome Midwestern city that had suddenly become an important, albeit short-term, venue for Renaissance art.

I distinctly remember a friend’s mother being enraged about the “not a prominent pin on the cultural map” and “weathered high school” lines. My classmate’s mom declared she was going to write a letter to the editor to call out The Times’ alleged arrogance. (A search of The New York Times digital archives suggests that letter, if it was indeed written and submitted, was never published.)

The Times, of course, holds significant national cultural importance, which is why seemingly innocent details published in the Grey Lady can sometimes cause significant local consternation. (Remember the state of Minnesota’s sour reaction to The Times’ peculiar “grape salad” feature last Thanksgiving?)

Gawker, of course, is not The New York Times. But the New York City-based news site, which has a long, vibrant tradition of unvarnished language and controversial takes on the news and the personalities that shape the news, sparked the furor of the city of Spartanburg, South Carolina, earlier this month.

In a post about cities restricting chain stories, writer Hamilton Nolan—who is no stranger to offending people—offered up a very quick reference to Spartanburg:

If you don't want your town to become a plastic facsimile of Main Street America (which is a fast food-laden strip of county road on the outskirts of Spartanburg, SC), then you have to do something to counteract the grim economic trends.

Nolan’s very quick reference did not go unanswered in South Carolina.

In an open letter to Nolan from “your friends in the City of Spartanburg” published on the city’s website:

. . . [W]e were a bit confused about what it was you were actually trying to say. The sentence in question was—to be charitable—constructed a bit haphazardly.

“If you don't want your town to become a plastic facsimile of Main Street America (which is a fast food-laden strip of county road on the outskirts of Spartanburg, SC)…”

What does that mean exactly? Are we supposed to be “Main Street America,” or are we a plastic facsimile? It’s tough to tell with the inartful wording, but we’re guessing that the “fast food-laden strip of county road” on our outskirts wasn’t meant to be a flattering reference in any case. That’s disappointing, but perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising coming from a site where posts about Mischa Barton suing her mom and Justin Bieber groping Ariana Grande mingle with whatever can be cribbed from Reddit to form a beautiful clickbait stew.

As WYFF-TV reported, Spartanburg’s city communication manager said that when the city becomes “the target of unfair, uninformed, cheap shots [it is] part of our jobs . . . to correct those when it makes sense.”

And that’s how the open letter defending Spartanburg’s honor, written by another city employee, came to be.

But was it an overreaction? In a post-reaction reaction, Nolan described his offensive Spartanburg reference to WYFF-TV as a “half sentence.”

Nolan said, according to the television station:

"The half-sentence in question was, ‘you don't want your town to become a plastic facsimile of Main Street America (which is a fast food-laden strip of county road on the outskirts of Spartanburg, SC).’ This is a fact. Furthermore I find it shocking that the fine citizens of Spartanburg would object to being characterized as all-American.

"As to the city of Spartanburg's response, I would just say I am proud to have participated in something that garners attention for Cajun Tater Biscuits, and look forward to including Spartanburg, SC in future parenthetical asides of cultural importance."

If the city of Spartanburg would have just ignored Nolan’s “half sentence,” this wouldn’t be much of a story. But the city’s sharp response to Nolan’s words, and the reaction to it, drew more attention than there would have been otherwise.

So, if you’re a similar city considering a high-profile response to an allegedly arrogant New York writer’s slam on your community, you have to weigh the costs versus the benefits.

Is a noteworthy and newsworthy reaction worth it? Sometimes, the best practice in this type of minor situation is to just let the hometown slam fade away into the online ether of the World Wide Web. In most cases, the minor mention can only be resurrected with the aid of very specific Google search terms.

Remember, the offensive writer in New York probably doesn’t care about your local outrage—whether it is warranted or not—but probably welcomes the controversy regardless because of, well, click click click. So any targeted response to a minor online slam might end up rewarding bad behavior.

Another thing to remember for places like Spartanburg: You’re not alone!

Disdain for New York writers also extends to New Yorkers themselves reacting to how certain writers write about their own city.

Standing up for your hometown's honor is important. But knowing when to wage a PR battle that exposes your hometown to even more attention might be of greater importance. 

(Image of Spartanburg, South Carolina by Flickr user Doug Gregory via CC by 2.0)