Si at the center of the storm

There's an interesting profile of Condé Nast's Si Newhouse by Richard Perez-Pena in the Times that reminds you at its best journalism is all about giving you entree into worlds and people you otherwise would not encounter, to your loss.

Mr. Newhouse goes to work daily in chinos and an old sweatshirt — a small, quiet grandfather, a man of plain looks, heading an empire that revolves around images of beauty and youth. Anna Wintour, editor in chief of Vogue, refers, laughingly, to “his unique sense of style.” ...

“He runs his business more like an old-fashioned proprietor, according to his interests, his tastes, like Henry Luce or Hearst did,” says Reed Phillips III, managing partner of DeSilva+Phillips, an investment banking boutique.

When asked what motivates Mr. Newhouse, people who know him rarely mention power or money. They talk about his devotion to his work, his penchant for arriving at the office before dawn, his intense interest in design details and his curiosity about Hollywood, politics and art.

In discussing people or things, “Si uses the word ‘attractive’ the way other people might use the word ‘spiritual,’ ” says a former senior executive who requested anonymity because he didn’t want Mr. Newhouse to consider him disloyal. “It means to him a sort of roundedness and depth.” ...

His greatest passion is movies — the only topic besides his magazines, his colleagues say, that can make him almost chatty. He recently sent a DVD of the film noir classic “D.O.A.” to some of his editors, eager to discuss it afterward. Graydon Carter, editor in chief of Vanity Fair, says his annual Hollywood issue was the chairman’s idea.

Mr. Newhouse follows politics but, unlike so many media moguls, has no interest in having a political voice. In fact, people who have worked closely with him for years say they have no real idea what his political views are.

He is so shy that several years ago, when the company opened its Frank Gehry-designed cafeteria, a chic forest of undulating glass and titanium panels, he initially wandered about with his lunch tray, reluctant to impose on other diners — or, some employees speculated, he was just unwilling to endure small talk. After a while, it was decided that the table to the right of the registers would henceforth be his.