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I've been married 13 years. Why is vacation sex suddenly so fleeting?

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I've been married 13 years. Why is vacation sex suddenly so fleeting?

A funny thing happened almost a decade ago when I told my girlfriends that I was embarking on a two-week anniversary trip with my husband. Eyebrows were raised. One friend shook her head and said, “That would quickly become problematic.” Another said she never goes on vacation solely with her husband anymore because they always fight or he is “too needy sexually.” Still another told me I was brave because that was “too long,” and buried issues would start to rear their ugly heads. And these were the “happy couples” in my friend group!

I was intrigued by their reaction. When did we all start dodging our long-term partners? Was this another midlife obstacle that I had yet to confront? And was I going to experience it firsthand on this getaway with my husband?

The dynamic my friends were describing “is extremely common,” says Evans Wittenberg, a licensed marriage family therapist based in Los Feliz. “Vacations are a culturally sanctioned time to unwind, but the pressure to enjoy often backfires — especially in the bedroom. You cannot schedule desire, it much prefers breaking the rules rather than following them.”

My husband Rob and I have always bonded over a shared love of travel. We’ve loved exploring far-flung places, like Cambodia and Bora Bora, over nearly two decades together. How bad could it be?

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With my friends’ voices in my head, we embarked on our journey to New Zealand in 2016. The plan was to spend a few days with my relatives who were living there and the rest of the time exploring a couple of lodges. We hadn’t slept well on the flight, and as soon as we landed, we had to be alert and drive on what felt like the wrong side of the road for four hours to our first stop. Amid the fog of jet lag, the squabbles began.

Why was it that despite our beautiful surroundings and swanky hotel rooms we couldn’t find a way to relax together?

First came the bickering over directions. Rob said my tone was edgy, and I thought the same about him. I often have strong opinions about where we should go and how, and he thinks my questioning him represents a lack of trust or that he can’t handle the task at hand. Much of our time spent navigating the lush green backroads of New Zealand was tense. Rob ignored me and blasted U2 at a volume he knew would make me nuts.

When we got to our destination, another point of disagreement came up: What to do that day. Rob wanted to bike ride. I wanted to spend our time exploring the parks along the Waikato River on foot. Luckily we were able to agree on exploring some thermal hot springs.

Finally, there was the question of intimacy. How much sex were we having — and when were we having it? When we arrived at the hotel, we upgraded to an even nicer, more expensive suite. Implicit in its price tag was the expectation that we’d have a fantastic time to justify it. Rob didn’t skip a beat getting into vacation mode and was keen to get the party started, while I needed a moment to shake off my fatigue and transition into feeling romantic. Our sex drives didn’t naturally sync up on that trip like they usually do and it bubbled up into a big, cranky fight leaving both of us feeling exhausted and miserable.

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Rob likes to point out that in the early days of our relationship, when we went on our very first vacation, we’d have sex multiple times a day. It’s a benchmark he wishes we could revisit.

By the end of our trip, we were a bit sick of each other, and my girlfriends were proved right. Why was it that despite our beautiful surroundings and swanky hotel rooms we couldn’t find a way to relax together?

After New Zealand, we both agreed we should rethink how we traveled as a couple. We weren’t having as much fun as we could be. So we joined a travel group that offered curated activities to lessen the stress that comes with designing the trip ourselves. In the fall of 2019, we went on a weeklong vacation to Dubrovnik and Montenegro with a full agenda of boating excursions and hikes through vineyards with the hope that being surrounded by chatty fellow travelers and gorgeous sights would relieve some of the pressure to be everything for each other.

The hectic pace was a challenge for me. As an introvert, having a full schedule and breakfast, lunch and dinner with 20 strangers felt like a strain, despite how lovely the company was. But Rob seemed to be keeping up just fine. Toward the end, I was craving a day to relax at the hotel. But that day there was a kayaking adventure in Skadar Lake that would require three hours roundtrip in a van. It was more Rob’s thing than mine, and I encouraged him to go without me so I could have a day to myself.

Somehow this suggestion got lost in translation, and was processed as “Stay at the hotel with me so we can have sex all day!” That breakdown in communication kicked off one of the worst fights of our marriage. I felt boxed in; unable to take care of both of our needs at the same time. I needed to look after myself but couldn’t communicate that desire without it leading to a fight. Exhausted, backed into a wall and not seeing how we could move forward, I was mentally prepared to fly home alone the next day.

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That night, as Rob engaged with everyone at the dinner but me, I comforted myself with a basket of bread rolls and thought about how we used to relish every minute together. We were one of those couples who clearly delighted in each other; other people would remark on our physical connection and say things like, “Come on you guys, you’re making us look bad.”

After dessert, with Rob still engrossed in conversation, I left the group, walked around the hotel grounds and found a quiet, deserted pool at the edge of a steep cliff. I peeled off my dress and had a solo late-night swim.

In earlier years, he would have come looking for me. I texted him and asked him to join me at the pool but unbeknownst to me he had left his phone in the room. I figured he was ignoring me. My stomach roiled from the stress. As the waves crashed cinematically on the rocks below, I thought that if we couldn’t get along in such a dreamy setting, then maybe it was an indication that we shouldn’t be together.

Exhausted, backed into a wall and not seeing how we could move forward, I was mentally prepared to fly home alone the next day.

I was also aware that my instincts might be mirroring those of my mother. She chose not to marry my father and raised me alone. There were only short-term partners until she finally walked down the aisle with my stepfather when I was 17. Sometimes I felt like the only thing I learned how to do in a relationship was leave.

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For the next day, as I wrestled with whether to stay or to go, I contemplated my mother’s influence. I had inherited her avoidant tendencies and that urge to pull away, to run. Sticking around to resolve the fight might’ve been harder but would also be far more rewarding. I resolved to stay and see if we could work through it.

And we did. There might have been some makeup sex involved.

For a while after that, our solution was to not go away together at all — a decision only bolstered by the COVID-19 pandemic. We finally dipped our toes back into traveling in 2021. Still wary of our tendency to fight on vacation, we started off with three- or four-day trips, nothing too far or too taxing. They went well, but I was unsure about taking a bigger plunge. And I worried disagreements over sex would pop up again.

Eventually I sought out the advice of Kiana Reeves, an Ojai-based teacher of embodiment and intimacy. She put many of the feelings I’d been having around expectations into words.

“When stakes feel high everything goes sideways,” Reeves says. “We experience it as pressure, and pressure is a great libido killer, it’s a great intimacy killer and it often puts us in a position where we are blaming the other person for our feelings of pressure or not getting our needs met.”

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The whole point of vacation is to relax and bring play into our lives, Reeves reminded me, noting that “libido thrives” in exactly those situations. She recommended that couples feeling vacation stress take the emphasis off sex and focus on connection, then “spend time making out, massage each other or lovingly touch each other. And see what happens from there.”

After trying a painful but productive couples retreat in Northern California, and even a few blissful guided healing sessions, we’ve focused in on Reeves’ advice to relax more, to be less hurried and to trust in our connection. It’s helping. I’ve nurtured a new appreciation for Rob; how giving he is, how much he strives to please me.

As for our differing appetites for activity, when one of us wants to go on a trip that appeals to only their personal interest, we find the right travel companions for the occasion. He does ski or boat trips with his buddies or his kids, while I might go visit my daughter at college or relatives in Australia. That way, we get to miss each other and feel fulfilled in our individual pursuits as well. When I’m excited about my own life, I’m more playful, curious and fun to be with. This approach has revitalized our relationship.

I don’t wing it and hope everything will turn out OK anymore. I communicate. Once I started verbalizing my need for alone time, and stopped tiptoeing around his feelings, I found that our relationship started to improve — both on vacations and in day-to-day life too. I got comfortable owning that I’m an introvert and being with a large group 24/7 or even just with my husband for every minute of the day is a lot for me. It’s no reflection on my feelings for him; it’s the way I’m built. We agreed in advance that I’ll tell him if I need to skip a group dinner or an activity to unwind and he now better understands why that’s important to me.

We still kick this subject of sex on vacation around a lot. Ignoring it gets in the way of an authentic connection. Not always comparing this version of us with earlier versions helps. When Rob gets nostalgic for our former sex life, I remind him that we’re now dealing with older, less compliant bodies. I’ve gone my rounds with perimenopause and menopause and he’s had his own battles with aging. That’s true when it comes to sex, but a whole lot more than that too. I’m not in the same headspace and neither is he.

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Luckily, I picked a partner who is willing to evolve — and who also supports my own journey of evolution. Now, Rob and I have been together for 19 years and married for 13. It’s something that I never thought myself capable of, an achievement I’m proud of.

When I mentioned it recently to my mother, she said, “Oh, well. Time for a break then. Otherwise it’s like eating the same bowl of cornflakes every day for 19 years.”

When I’m confronted with her point of view, I see it as more evidence that keeping my relationship intact has been a true accomplishment. I love my husband and we like being together, even if it isn’t always perfect. We remain great partners.

Last month, in what has become our tradition, we went on an anniversary trip with a travel group, this time to Africa. In a nod to our differences, on Valentine’s Day I went on the morning elephant encounter and he went on the river rafting trip. He came back upset — and minus his wedding ring, a custom-made band that he loved dearly. It likely flew off in one of the pre-launch training exercises. In earlier years, the symbolism of this news would have absorbed and derailed me. I would have been wondering if it meant the end of us. This time I had to shrug and remind myself: It’s a good thing I like cornflakes.

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How having zero points in tennis — or ‘love’ — came to sound so sweet

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How having zero points in tennis — or ‘love’ — came to sound so sweet

The scoreboard shows the results of the women’s singles final match between Iga Swiatek of Poland and Amanda Anisimova of the U.S. at the Wimbledon Tennis Championships in London, Saturday, July 12, 2025.

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Kirsty Wigglesworth/AP

Fifteen points in tennis? Nice. Thirty, 40 — even better. Advantage — that sounds good. “Love” — that also must be great, right? Well, not quite.

As the French Open rolls on and Serena Williams has announced her return to the sport, maybe you’ve been paying a little more attention to tennis. The sport’s scoring system is notably distinct, and can sometimes be hard to grasp for newcomers. But even tennis aficionados might not know why, or how, “love” became the unmistakable callout for zero points. For this installment of NPR’s Word of the Week, we’re exploring how a word that signifies trailing behind got such a sweet name.

“Love” comes from the heart — or an egg?

It’s hard to pinpoint when the first tennis ball went over the net. Tennis is a derivative of lots of other sports, such as “jeu de paume,” a handball game played in France, said JT Buzanga, the collections manager at the International Tennis Hall of Fame museum.

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But tennis became a patented, official sport in 1874, said Steve Flink, a journalist whose tennis coverage got him inducted into the International Tennis Hall of Fame. It has retained its unique, mysterious scoring system ever since.

“By and large, the original system has held up almost entirely,” Flink said.

The use of “love” goes back to the late 18th century, said Jesse Sheidlower, a lexicographer. But it was used earlier than that in card games such as whist and bridge. Before the term made its way to tennis, the sport favored plain old “nothing,” or “nil,” he said.

Why love in the first place, though? Historians don’t really know for sure, but there are a few theories.

The French could have something to do with it. Some historians believe “love” derives from “l’oeuf,” which means “the egg” in French. Because eggs are shaped like zeros, terms such as “goose egg” and “duck’s egg” have been used in other contexts to mean zero, Sheidlower said.

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It’s also possible English speakers mispronounced l’oeuf as “love.” But Sheidlower isn’t convinced that’s the answer.

“It’s the French equivalent of an English expression. But since that expression doesn’t appear in French, the French word wouldn’t have been used,” he said.

To be sure, France has had a lot of influence on tennis culture, Buzanga said. For example, “deuce” or a game tied at 40 points, comes from the French word for “two”: “deux.” But he prefers another prominent theory: that “love” comes from the idiom “for the love of the game.” Even if a player hasn’t scored, it doesn’t matter, because their heart is in it. It’s the theory Sheidlower said is the most plausible, because the idiom was used by the English before tennis was popularized.

Another variation of the “love of the game” theory is that the word could have come from the Dutch “lof,” or “honor” — or the Latin “amare,” meaning “to love,” Flink said.

But if tennis’ “love” doesn’t come from a French word, the theory at least has a French sensibility.

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“I think the ‘for the love of the game’ is kind of romantic,” Buzanga said.

“Love” probably isn’t going anywhere

Tennis used to be a sport of leisure. The style of play has changed a lot over the years; players are more athletic and competitive, for instance, Flink said. But the rules of the sport are more steadfast, he said.

“There’s this incredible, enduring respect for tradition in tennis,” he said. “Changes are not made easily.”

There has been one major change in modern history: the tie-break. Matches can go on and on because players have to score two consecutive points to break a deuce, or by two games to break a tied set. But the onset of television meant matches would have to get shorter if the sport wanted to capture a larger audience, Flink said.

Change even came for “love.” An alternative sprouted up in the 1970s, and is still used today: “bagel,” named for its zero shape, Sheidlower said. Novices may say “zero,” and insiders will understand what they mean, but they “will needle them about it,” Flink said.

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But “love” still prevails.

“People kind of like it,” Flink said. “It’s different. Why say zero when you can say love?”

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With Highway 1 open, Big Sur braces for its busiest summer in years

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With Highway 1 open, Big Sur braces for its busiest summer in years

On a 75-mile cliff-hugging stretch of highway in California, traffic is way up, despite soaring gas prices. And locals expect the busiest summer in years.

The road is Highway 1 in Big Sur, which reopened in January after three years of repair and reconstruction following a pair of landslides. Drivers can once again embark on the state’s most famous road trip, covering the 100 miles between Cambria to the south and Carmel to the north without leaving the two-lane coastal highway. And they’re heading out in big numbers.

Caltrans estimates that as of May, Big Sur restaurant and retailer guest counts are up 40% from last year, and that northbound traffic at Ragged Point, the southern gateway to Big Sur, has risen 900% year-over-year.

People pose for photos near Bixby Bridge. Monterey County’s Board of Supervisors voted to explore a 12-month ban on parking around the bridge.

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Safety cones prevent parking along Coast Road near the Bixby Bridge.

Safety cones prevent parking along Coast Road near the Bixby Bridge.

“Take your time,” said Kirk Gafill, co-owner of the popular Nepenthe restaurant and president of the Big Sur Chamber of Commerce, offering advice to travelers. “You’re going to be sharing the road with a number of people.”

As travelers rediscover the road, the cost of driving has been shooting skyward. California’s average gas price ($6.11 per gallon as of May 26) is up 26% from the year before. In early April, rates hit $9.99 at the isolated gas station in the Big Sur community of Gorda.

For spring and summer travelers, these numbers would seem to pose a stark question: Stay home and save money, or head for the coast because the road is finally open and it’s still cheaper than flying?

So far, the latter answer is winning big.

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Fog lingers off the coast of Highway 1.

Fog lingers off the coast of Highway 1.

“We are definitely seeing a huge uptick in our reservations,” said Megan Handy, assistant general manager at the upscale Treebones resort. She estimated that bookings are 30% or more ahead of last year, and rates are unchanged since then. But “it’s still not feeling super crowded, which is nice. Everything still feels kind of calm.”

But added traffic has raised some anxiety. On May 19, Monterey County’s Board of Supervisors voted to explore a 12-month ban on parking at Bixby Bridge, one of the region’s top photo spots.

Over the years, the number of cars parking near the bridge — often illegally, sometimes impeding emergency vehicles — has risen. The proposed parking moratorium won’t take effect until the supervisors discuss it further.

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Busy as things are, several business owners pointed out that many international travelers have not yet returned — perhaps because most make their plans more than six months ahead, perhaps because of global politics, perhaps a little of each.

The biggest challenge for businesses during this resurgence? “Restaffing and retaining,” said Handy at Treetops.

At Nepenthe, Gafill said his business has seen a 45% boost in guest volume since the road’s reopening. Gafill said he would have expected a 35% pickup, “simply by virtue of reopening the highway.” The additional 10%, he said, might be “all that pent-up demand,” aided by “a very beautiful and very dry winter,” followed by a mild spring.

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A lunch crowd dines at popular restaurant Nepenthe.

A lunch crowd dines at popular restaurant Nepenthe.

Another possible factor: Nobody can be sure how long the road will remain open.

To cope with the influx of people, Gafill said, “everybody is trying to recruit and retain their existing staff.”

At the Ragged Point Inn, where rates dropped as low as $149 nightly last fall, rates are back over $200 and staffers are suggesting that customers book at least six months ahead. The inn has reopened its snack bar for the first time since early 2023, and management is investing in capital upgrades and staging live music on weekends throughout the summer.

Business “is up over 100%,” said Diane Ramey, whose family owns the inn. “I know not all of our neighbors are having the same lift, but everybody is doing better.”

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Traffic approaching Bixby Bridge.

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A visitor poses in an oversized chair at Big Sur River Inn.

A visitor poses in an oversized chair at Big Sur River Inn.

Even at the New Camaldoli Hermitage, a Benedictine monastery above Lucia, the road’s reopening and coming summer season have made a difference. Bookings are up an estimated 30% at the hermitage, which rent rooms and cottages (for two nights or more) to visitors who agree to its requirement of silence.

Big Sur business owners advise visitors to travel on weekdays for less traffic and the best hotel rates, and to get on the road as early as possible.

Since its opening in 1937, the highway has been vulnerable to landslides and shifting ground, operating on a longstanding cycle of landslide, closure, repair, reopening and then another landslide, or sometimes a fire. The U.S. Geological Survey has identified the Big Sur coastline as one of the most landslide-prone areas in the western United States. The 2023-2026 closure was the longest in the highway’s history.

Over time, road crews have used increasingly sophisticated strategies. In the most recent efforts, Caltrans said, it used drones to help survey the slopes and remotely operated bulldozers and excavators to reduce risks to workers.

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During the closure, no traffic was allowed on 6.8-mile span from just north of Lucia until about a mile south of the Esalen Institute. Drivers detoured inland by way of U.S. 101.

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Firings at CBS’ ’60 Minutes’ reflect the fight for media control in the age of Trump

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Firings at CBS’ ’60 Minutes’ reflect the fight for media control in the age of Trump

Correspondents of CBS’ 60 Minutes pose for a portrait in 2023. From left to right, they are Sharyn Alfonsi, L. Jon Wertheim, Bill Whitaker, Lesley Stahl, Scott Pelley, Cecilia Vega, and Anderson Cooper. Former Executive Producer Bill Owens sits on the far right. Only Wertheim, Whitaker and Stahl remain at the program.

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When CBS fired Scott Pelley on Tuesday night, the new 60 Minutes executive producer, Nick Bilton, told Pelley it was for insubordination at a staff meeting the day before.

The veteran correspondent argues he was defending the DNA of 60 Minutes and the integrity of its journalism.

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The battle royale over the network’s most prestigious and profitable news program is part of a broader fight over the direction of CBS News.

And given CBS’s acquisition by a billionaire family whose business interests have become intertwined with the political interests of President Trump, it reflects a larger war over control of the media in the current moment.

That father and son, Larry and David Ellison, bought CBS’ parent company, Paramount, last summer. In January, they became co-owners of TikTok’s U.S. operations. Now they’re seeking approval from Trump’s regulators to buy Warner Bros. Discovery, the parent company of CNN.

A glamorous show shorn, for now, of most its stars

CBS fired Cecilia Vega, a correspondent, and Tanya Simon, the executive producer, from 60 Minutes last week. They are shown in this photo at the 2026 White House Correspondents' Association Dinner on April 25, 2026 in Washington, D.C.

CBS fired Cecilia Vega, a correspondent, and Tanya Simon, the executive producer, from 60 Minutes last week. They are shown in this photo at the 2026 White House Correspondents’ Association Dinner on April 25, 2026 in Washington, D.C.

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But the specifics of this individual episode matter — for 60 Minutes, CBS, its audience of millions, and even the news business itself.

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The program has been the most glamorous post in broadcast news. The correspondents are the stars of the show. And now, there are just three of them.

Anderson Cooper left last month, concerned over the direction of the network’s coverage. Last week was a virtual bloodbath: correspondents Cecilia Vega and Sharyn Alfonsi were fired. So were a producer and two show executives — including Tanya Simon, a longtime staffer who had stepped up as executive producer when her predecessor resigned in protest before the Ellisons’ takeover.

With Pelley’s ouster, only correspondents Lesley Stahl, Bill Whitaker, and Jon Wertheim remain. Now they are considering whether to resign, according to two associates with knowledge.

Their brand-new boss, Bilton, was previously a tech reporter for The New York Times and an investigative reporter for Vanity Fair. He executive-produced a documentary for Netflix about a couple accused of laundering Bitcoin and has been a producer on several other films.

Notably, he has no experience in television news.

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Neither does Bari Weiss, whom David Ellison installed as the network’s editor in chief last October. The Ellisons also bought her center-right views-and-news site, The Free Press.

She has maintained that the network of Walter Cronkite needs a makeover for the digital moment. She has also contended for years that CBS, along with the rest of mainstream media, is too reflexively anti-Trump, anti-Israel, and too woke.

A rejection of CBS News executives’ overtures

The new executive producer of 60 Minutes, Nick Bilton, has been a tech journalist and documentary filmmaker, but lacks experience in broadcast news.

The new executive producer of 60 Minutes, Nick Bilton, has been a tech journalist and documentary filmmaker, but lacks experience in broadcast news.

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Bilton attempted to set a conciliatory tone at Monday’s meeting — his first with the show. Pelley, a formidable veteran correspondent and former CBS Evening News anchor, wasn’t having it.

Pelley called Bilton unwelcome and unqualified. And Pelley said that Weiss was attempting to “murder” the program.

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In firing Pelley on Tuesday, Bilton said the journalist had hijacked the meeting and rejected overtures to work constructively through their differences. (NPR obtained a copy of the firing notice.) Bilton wrote that Pelley’s “antipathy to the future of the show came through loud and clear.”

In his own statement late Tuesday evening, shared with NPR, Pelley accused CBS’s new news leadership of killing 60 Minutes‘ DNA and pushing him “to inject falsehoods and bias into a politically sensitive story” and “to include assertions that are unverified.”

The accusations, to which CBS has not yet responded, echo those made by Alfonsi and Vega, the two correspondents fired last week.

Earlier this year, Alfonsi publicly complained after Weiss held one of her stories at the last minute, and kept it frozen for weeks, demanding an on-camera interview with a Trump White House official that never played out. It ran, unchanged from the intended version, with additional statements from the administration tacked on to the end.

After being fired, Vega said in a statement obtained by NPR that her team had “experienced efforts to insert political bias into our stories.”

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“Let’s call this what it is: censorship, both censorship and self-driven” Vega continued. “It is dangerous for the show and dangerous for democracy.”

Weiss previously rejected Alfonsi’s and Vega’s allegations. (CBS said Vega’s claims, for example, were “not based in reality” while expressing appreciation for her work.)

Weiss and Bilton say digital threat requires a 60 Minutes overhaul now

In a meeting this morning, Weiss said that Pelley chose his own path — that is, to be fired rather than to find a way to work through his concerns, according to attendees. The network and Weiss have not yet publicly addressed Pelley’s accusations of interference. 

Bilton and Weiss say they respect the show’s traditions, its accomplishments and its legacy of enterprise reporting, extended interviews and visual storytelling. It rose in the ratings 9% over the past season under Simon.

The two news leaders say, however, 60 Minutes needs to be overhauled before it becomes increasingly irrelevant in the era of streamers and other sources of news, information and entertainment in the digital age.

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Interviews with 12 current and former CBS News staffers, from producers to executives, suggest great reservations and suspicions remain about Weiss’ judgment and her ability to handle the prominent and even famous journalists on whom her division relies.

Weiss had initially sought to reinvent the CBS Evening News, dropping a two-anchor format that had sagged in the ratings. Cooper turned down Weiss’ overtures to anchor it and left the network altogether, concerned about her approach, according to associates. (They spoke on condition of anonymity because Cooper has not chosen to speak publicly on the matter.)

David Ellison became chairman and CEO of CBS' parent company, Paramount, after buying it last year.

David Ellison became chairman and CEO of CBS’ parent company, Paramount, after buying it last year.

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The ratings have continued to sag under new anchor Tony Dokoupil. And some CBS journalists, including producers who have left the Evening News, have publicly accused Weiss of making editorial decisions driven by politics. She has rejected those claims.

The decision to take on overhauling two key shows — one listing, one highly profitable, both high profile — carries significant risks for Weiss and the network, even apart from other considerations.

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But the Ellisons’ presence cannot be ignored.

When Shari Redstone was negotiating the sale of CBS’s parent company, Paramount, to the Ellisons’ Skydance Media last year, the network announced the end of Stephen Colbert’s late night show. He had been one of the president’s most biting and acerbic critics.

David Ellison also made a series of concessions directly to Trump’s chief broadcast regulator, Federal Communications Commission Chair Brendan Carr, gutting CBS’s diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives and appointing a conservative ombudsman to field complaints of bias against its news reporting.

Carr and other regulators approved the Paramount deal last summer.

The accommodations echo those made by other media titans.

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Amazon and Blue Origin founder Jeff Bezos remade the editorial pages of the Washington Post, which he owns, into a far more hospitable zone for Trump at the outset of his second term. So did Los Angeles Times owner Dr. Patrick Soon-Shiong, a noted medical device inventor. Amazon and Blue Origin have multi-billion dollar contracts with the federal government. Soon-Shiong’s medical research firm routinely has patent applications up for review with federal regulators. One was approved Tuesday.

The Ellisons are hoping to win approval from federal regulators next month for their purchase of Warner Bros. Discovery in a deal valued at more than $110 billion. It would include Warner Bros. Studio, HBO and CNN, among other properties.

As Weiss routs CBS News’ old guard, the question of what role she might play at CNN — and what changes that portends at CBS — hangs over journalists at the two networks. The fate of 60 Minutes serves as a high-stakes case study for both.

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