He’s young and smart and hot, with a jones for dangerous assignments, a personal story that makes you want to cry, and a palpable anger on air at the injustices he covers. Anderson Cooper is the thinking woman’s newsman.
By Lisa DePaulo
Anderson Cooper is on his way to the airport to fly to South Africa and swim with the great white sharks. This is significant for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that we finally get to interview AC 360 outside his CNN office. Not that talking to Anderson is ever dull, but seeing him in the same (however gleaming) atmosphere of the Time Warner building in New York City was getting a little tired. When you’re here to write about a man whose idea of a vacation is covering the Ebola virus, it’s kind of nice to go, you know, outside.
But Cooper isn’t into the usual contrivances of the magazine profile—there will be no lunch at a trendy restaurant, no “hanging out”—though this has less to do with his view of journalism (you go to the story, the story doesn’t come to you, you don’t create scenes, and so on) than it does with his discomfort with being the subject instead of the interviewer. It’s “weird,” he says, this penetrating-question stuff. He doesn’t like to think of himself as someone who fascinates beyond his ability to report and deliver news. He insists he is neither interested in nor does he read anything that’s written about him, including (perhaps particularly including) the daily panting in the blogosphere, where catty speculation about his personal life has become a genre in and of itself. He considers following his own fame to be a waste of his time. “No offense,” he says, “but I won’t read this article, either.”
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