Lifestyle
Shaky voice? There’s no shame at this no-audition choir that's teaching Angelenos to sing
The emails arrive in people’s inboxes a few times each year with subject lines like: “Want more positivity in your life?” “We all need this right now!” or “Do something for YOU.”
Recipients might be inclined to immediately trash these messages, mistaking them for spam promoting the latest weight–loss drug or advertisements for an upcoming Danube River cruise. But they’re actually heartfelt messages from Greg Delson, a 44-year-old native Angeleno and voice educator who funneled his passion for singing into forming one of the city’s most popular secular adult choirs.
Voice educator Greg Delson, center, starts every choir rehearsal with an icebreaker to help the singers loosen up and get centered.
(William Liang / For The Times)
Offering two eight-week seasons a year in the spring and fall, Landlights Community Choir has grown profoundly since its launch in 2019. What started as a single class of 35 people singing pop songs in someone’s living room has expanded into a roster of 260 singers divided among four choir groups across the Greater Los Angeles area — City, South Bay, Valley and Westside L.A. — with a wait list of more than 100 people eagerly counting down the days until the next one. It is not unknown for attendees to commute from as far away as Ventura or Riverside counties to attend their group’s weekly 1-hour-and-45-minute rehearsals. Sessions for each group culminate in a full-production, pop-music-heavy final concert backed by a live band of professional musicians. Although the set list is never revealed before the concerts, the songs for the upcoming spring performances revolve around themes of growth and progress.
A choir that’s about uplifting one another
The secret sauce behind Landlights is its dedication to fun and its approach to rigidity. There are no auditions, and all skill levels are welcome. Attendance is not mandatory, not even for the final concert. Everyone, regardless of talent, can sign up for a solo, and the No. 1 rule sets the tone for the whole experience: “No shaming anyone, ever.”
“My mission is to get the world singing together,” says Delson, who has a master’s degree in music education from Boston University. “My work is to remove the barriers to entry and encourage everyone to sing, regardless of their self-perceived abilities or skill level.”
Two-time returnee Marina Fox joins in song during a rehearsal for the City group’s spring 2025 season.
(William Liang / For The Times)
These sentiments spoke to 23-year-old Marina Fox, and it’s how she found herself standing in front of a crowd of 385 people, reciting the opening line to “Home” by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros at Landlights’ fall concert in Koreatown last November.
Fox had been nervous about signing up for a solo, or as Delson calls them, “special moments.” As a recent college graduate holding down her first full-time job, Fox hadn’t been sure she should join an extracurricular group, let alone elect to have a “special moment.” But her fellow City choir members emphatically encouraged her to sign up for a solo, and Fox took the plunge. She’s glad she did.
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An adult secular choir has become massively popular thanks to its policy of no shaming and letting in everyone who wants to join.
“It felt amazing. I don’t do a lot of things in my life that warrant applause,” Fox says. “When you graduate from college, there’s a little bit of a loss of self because the path isn’t set for you anymore. Singing in this choir has given me back so much confidence.”
Dressed in a joyful orange ensemble, Fox was flanked by her fellow choir members, each dressed in a richly hued jewel tone of their choice. As Fox stepped away from the mic, her delight was palpable. Even though it was just a short segment of a hit song from 2009, it felt like a major accomplishment.
“It was almost like crossing the finish line in my postgraduate life,” she says, “because I was finally back to doing something that brought me a ton of joy and excitement, and I had something to show for it.”
Then something surprising happened at the performance. Two singers stepped out of the ranks to recite the closing lines, and one of them ad-libbed an addition.
Turning to the other performer, she dropped down on one knee and said: “Ever since we met, you’ve felt like going home. Baby, will you please marry me?”
The crowd — and the choir — went wild. There was applause, tears, children running amok and flowers being thrown in the air.
Delson selects popular songs from artists and groups such as Adele and ABBA that most choir members will already know the words to.
(Sebastian Garcia)
Even for Landlights standards, this was a momentous event. At no other time in the six years of Landlights’ history has a marriage proposal happened at a concert — but other magic has brewed, thanks to the group’s unique concoction of support and camaraderie. Romantic matches have been made, singing careers have been started, bands have been formed, podcasts have been launched, health conditions like asthma have been improved and more than a few people have found a part of themselves they’d been missing.
Ron Gould, a 70-year-old creative director who joined the City group last season with his wife, regained a confidence he’d lost at age 12 when his voice cracked during a glee club performance of “Over the Rainbow.”
After years of relying on friendships formed through her husband, 37-year-old Carole Buckner developed a community of her own that has kept her rejoining the choir each season. And Cheryl Hoffman, a retired UCLA radiologist, got back in touch with a creative side of her personality that for decades had remained dormant because of the nature of her work.
“When I see the looks of joy and pride on their faces — that’s my favorite part of this whole thing,” Delson says. “You just see people blossoming right before your eyes. It’s what fuels me to keep doing this.”
Greg Delson, center, has steadily grown the Landlights Community Choir since its inception in 2019.
(William Liang / For The Times)
Keep it secular and just sing the hits
Although there are a handful of community choirs sprinkled throughout Los Angeles, Landlights is said to be the only continuous group that eschews audition requirements for admission. It’s different in other ways too. The songs performed are popular music, with a few smatterings of classics from the last century, including “California Dreamin’” by the Mamas & the Papas and the John Denver hit “Take Me Home, Country Roads.”
The benefit of focusing on these tunes — aside from their broader appeal compared to, say, chorale music — is that the majority of singers are already familiar with them and don’t need to know how to read sheet music to perform them.
Delson credits his background in community music and the research-based teaching methods he learned at the Complete Vocal Institute in Copenhagen for helping shape the core principles of Landlights.
Delson makes an effort to create a safe space that encourages participants to ask questions, fraternize with others and leave their stress at home. He is a firm believer that anyone can sing; it’s just a matter of providing them the right anatomical training — and making sure they have fun while doing it.
It’s why self-professed “extroverted introvert” Buckner felt comfortable signing up for her first season in the spring of 2022.
“I figured if it sucked I wouldn’t be locked in and could bail at any time. Luckily, I was completely hooked after the first practice,” she says. “It’s a little like summer camp in the way we all come together for a short time and build strong bonds. Honestly, it’s a much better all-around experience than my sixth-grade honor choir was.”
Buckner is a singer in Landlights’ Valley group, marking her seventh season in the choir.
Carole Buckner hadn’t sung in public since sixth-grade choir class but has enjoyed participating in Landlights Community Choir so much that she’s joined for the last seven seasons.
(William Liang / For The Times)
An adult choir with zero pressure
The scheduling flexibility of Landlights has been a strong appeal for Hoffman, who has been in the choir for four seasons and sang her first “special moment” at the City group’s concert last fall.
“I come from a world that’s a lot more structured, so it’s really relaxing and welcoming to see another way of doing things,” she says.
The choir attracts a range of participants across age groups (so long as they’re 18 or older), skill level and background. While some are novice singers and karaoke bar enthusiasts, many come from the entertainment industry, where they work as actors, dancers or fledgling musicians.
To foster community, name tags are worn at every rehearsal, with green stickers used by newcomers and orange ones for returnees. Delson and members agree that it takes the pressure off having to remember names, allowing people to focus on feeling comfortable when they practice the songs.
In the greenroom shortly before the start of the City group’s fall 2024 concert, emotions ran high as Delson gave a pep talk.
(Cynthia Garcia)
Learn from a voice expert at a discount
For more than two decades, Delson has worked as a voice coach, but he also has been a songwriter, recording artist, backup singer, producer, vocal arranger and educator.
Another benefit to the choir is that members can learn from him without the substantially heftier prices for his private voice training sessions. Previous eight-week seasons have cost in the ballpark of $350, depending on how early or late one signed up, as discounts are given to those who commit promptly as well as to returning singers. That’s nearly as much as one private lesson with Delson.
“I love having economical ways for people to be able to sing, and in our choir rehearsals, I’m definitely teaching them tricks and skills,” Delson says. “I also make audio files on Dropbox for each of them where I teach them their parts, such as how to get the notes and make the vowels.”
It’s not just what you’re singing but who’s teaching you
The model that Landlights follows wouldn’t be hard for another choir to replicate. Throw together a set list of pop songs, let everyone join, ban people from critiquing themselves and others, and end the season with a big-bang performance. But there’s one key ingredient that would be missing: Delson.
“Greg is a very special human being, and I think without him, you couldn’t necessarily make this happen,” Hoffman says. “He brings people from all walks of life together with his unique perspective and charisma. He really is the glue.”
Gould, who admits he only begrudgingly joined the choir to have a bonding activity with his wife, was similarly impressed.
“Greg’s whole thing is making you feel more than,” Gould says. “He is so courageous with what he does in getting people to loosen up and try these different exercises. There’s a certain level of feeling silly, and he’s able to lead by example and get you in that mode.”
At the City group’s fall 2024 concert, a record number of members signed up to perform a solo or, as Delson calls them, “special moments.”
(Sebastian Garcia)
As demand to join the choir has grown, Delson has been working on crafting groups of no more than 65 singers each so that everyone’s voice can be heard while also scaling them so he doesn’t have to turn people away for lack of space. It’s a tricky balance, and it’s why he’s expanded the choir to multiple locations and hired associate conductors, which is something he plans to invest in more heavily for the future.
“I hate telling people no when it comes to people wanting to sing, so it has to grow,” he says. “My task right now is trying to identify the elements that make Landlights what it is, codifying that and teaching it to others.”
But that’s a long-term goal, because at the moment, Delson has bigger things to focus on: namely, the upcoming spring concerts taking place from the end of March through early April in West L.A., Sherman Oaks, El Segundo and Santa Monica.
He’s not worried about how the groups will sound — he knows they will sound phenomenal. Also, he’s not worried about members forgetting their lines or missing their notes. Because in the end, Landlights is about more than just the singing.
“We’ve lost so many of these third spaces that bring people together, and Landlights is an antidote to that,” Delson says. “You don’t see anyone on their phone in rehearsal. Everyone’s just talking and smiling and being present, having fun and just realizing how much they have in common. And to me, that is true community choir. That is what Landlights is about.”
Lifestyle
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.
Kirsty Wigglesworth/AP
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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.

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.
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.
“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.
But “love” still prevails.
“People kind of like it,” Flink said. “It’s different. Why say zero when you can say love?”
Lifestyle
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.
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.
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.
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.”
Traffic approaching Bixby Bridge.
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.
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.
Lifestyle
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.
CBS Photo Archive/CBS via Getty Images/CBS
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CBS Photo Archive/CBS via Getty Images/CBS
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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.
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.
Kristina Bumphrey/Variety via Getty Images/Variety
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Kristina Bumphrey/Variety via Getty Images/Variety
But the specifics of this individual episode matter — for 60 Minutes, CBS, its audience of millions, and even the news business itself.
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.
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.
Matt Winkelmeyer/Getty Images/Getty Images North America
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Matt Winkelmeyer/Getty Images/Getty Images North America
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.
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.”
“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.
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.
Noam Galai/Getty Images for Paramount/Getty Images North America
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Noam Galai/Getty Images for Paramount/Getty Images North America
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.
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.
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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