It's the summer of 2011, the New York Times magazine, pitch meeting.

Staffers of all stripes gather around a wooden conference table to discuss story ideas for

upcoming issues.

The table is littered with notebooks and laptops, Muji brand pencil cases and iced coffees

sweating dangerously close to teetering piles of books and magazines.

The walls lined with framed front pages from across American history, Pearl Harbor,

9-11, the first black president, at a sense of gravity to the affair.

I walked into a story meeting one afternoon at the magazine.

I used to do that every once in a while, just plop in and make my presence felt because

that's the kind of guy I am.

But for a veteran journalist, like Joe Noseira, it felt a bit like waltzing into the gym

on the first day of practice, senior year.

Watch and learn, freshman.

Joe was a long time business writer, who'd recently been moved over to the papers op-ed desk,

where he wrote a bi-weekly column about Wall Street, the SEC, and basically any chance

he got, the business of sports.

In 2007, he was a Pulitzer Prize finalist for his, quote, piercing, authoritative columns

on business, often spotlighting misdeeds and flaws in corporate culture.

His reputation was as a bullish reporter, one who looked after his colleagues but didn't

suffer fools.

And on this muggy New York morning, Joe felt like stirring things up.

He'd been mulling a big idea, one that called for the kind of cinematic treatment that

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