For people who've spent their entire career in media, I always ask this question in interviews: through warts and all, what keeps you in this industry? Working in media can feel like the system is working against you more than with you — between the spectacular implosion of traditional traffic models, AI as an ominous question mark and the brutal cycle of layoffs. And it's not like we're all getting paid David Zaslav salaries to deal with this mess, either.
So when I put that question to Katie Philo — who logged time at Condé Nast (where we first met), Reuters and the BBC — her answer put into context why I'm still here myself: "I keep finding the magic in it. I can go on TikTok right now and find something that genuinely compels me, makes me cry, makes me excited. That's still happening every single day. And that's ultimately why I got into this — storytelling is connection. It makes people feel seen and part of something."
It’s hard not to feel a little hopeful after that. Katie also confesses how much screen time she's actually racking up in a week, gets into her very good internet taste, and shares what surprised her most about going freelance after leaving her 9-5 job.
Let's start with your career up until now — take me through how you got here.
I grew up in a pretty rural village in England — not a lot of examples around me of people working in media. I entered a competition to be a 'press packer,' which is essentially a reporter, on a CBBC children's news program called 'Newsround.' You had to call in and answer a question to win — and I won. I went up to London and bought a new outfit. I was 13 at the time and I was literally presenting a segment to the professional cameras about Madonna's new children's book. I was working as part of the production team that day, and I was with the researcher who I loved hearing more about her career, and then I saw the TV presenter who I'd watched loads. I went to the BBC offices in West London, and I recorded a voice over, and it just gave me this entry point into what it's like to work in media, and I think that was like the moment that I knew I wanted to do this.
From there it was a lot of knocking on doors. Cold-calling every magazine in London I could find, and I found one, called Sugar Magazine, which was a teen magazine. A lot of places wouldn't take anyone under 16 for insurance reasons, but they took me on, and I worked there for two weeks. I was starting to learn that this business is all about having the guts to ask for opportunities, because no one's going to give it to you otherwise.
I studied history at university and then went to work for Reuters for a year in New York. And then I came back to London very tunnel-visioned about wanting to work at the BBC. And I got my first job there almost exactly 10 years after I first walked in for that Madonna interview. It was a real full circle moment. I started working at the BBC for iPlayer, which was their on-demand streaming service, and I found my way into social and digital media. BBC was so amazing for me because I got to work on so many different shows: I worked in music for Radio 2, got to work on Glastonbury, Radio 1's Big Weekend, The Apprentice.
And from there you ended up in New York. What's the biggest difference between the American and British media market?
New York never really left my system. I love Americans' attitude toward opportunity — the enthusiasm, the entrepreneurialism, the sense that you can do anything. After a stint at BritBox, I joined Condé and started at Pitchfork, leading social for four years. I always try to be careful about doing something you love for your job, because it can suck the joy out of it. But Pitchfork is probably my favorite job I've ever had. Music is the through line in everything in my life. Pitchfork was where teenage Katie felt completely held. Like I'd found the community of people I'd been looking for my whole life.
Then an opportunity [to lead GQ's social media strategy] came up and you encouraged me to apply for it. I hadn't really considered it. GQ was a much bigger challenge: global scope, not just music but culture, sport, lifestyle, commerce, and a significantly larger team. The scale of it mildly terrified me. But I think you have to do things that scare you. What excited me most was the brand-building work — social and digital are where most people first encounter a publication now, and shaping that voice for GQ globally felt genuinely important.
After GQ you went freelance. What has that transition been like?
Terrifying at first. But since I left, I've worked on so many different types of projects — startups, small companies, larger companies, and not just in media. I worked on promotion for David Byrne's new album last year. I've been working with Nécessaire on social strategy. And I was one of the first people brought on at Hoda Kotb's media company Joy 101, devising their social strategy from scratch — which launched to number one in the app store. Building from nothing has been one of my favorite things. When you've spent years at institutions that have existed for decades, you don't always get to be a voice at the very beginning of something.
What I've learned going freelance is that I'm capable of so much more than my job title ever suggested. Social media touches every part of a business, so you end up knowing how to do a lot. My advice to anyone leaving a big company: get stuck in as many places as possible. You'll be surprised at what you can do.
Let's get into the corners of the internet you keep returning to. What does your media diet actually look like and how much screen time are you racking up these days?
My daily average screen time is 5 hours and 18 minutes. My algorithm is genuinely just old buildings. I had to look at it recently and laugh — paintings of London, retro NYC, historic royal palaces, English Heritage, Landmark Trust. When I'm in New York I crave all the English stuff, and I imagine if I ever lived in England again I'd be getting New York constantly. I studied history at university, and I think I just find something nourishing about the storytelling embedded in old places and old things.
Music is the other big one. What excites me right now is what creators are doing independently in that space. Growing up, my dream was to produce a late-night show on Radio 1 — and that was this incredibly hierarchical, gatekept path. Whereas now someone can have an idea and make the show the following week. One I've been loving recently is ‘What's Your Train Track’ — a guy called Christian who interviews strangers on a train about music. Just a phone and a concept. I genuinely find that inspiring.
Two music creators I'm always watching: Margeaux [Labat] — marg.mp3 — who is one of my closest friends and one of the original music creators, incredible taste, just out there building the road for everyone else. And Tia Ho, whose commentary on music I actually learn from every time.
Newsletters: Link in Bio with Rachel Karten is essential reading for anyone in social and digital. She's the best voice in that space. I've just read Lena Dunham's book [‘Famesick: A Memoir’] and I love her Substack [Good Good Thing], too. And two music newsletters I'd push on anyone: Nick Cave's The Red Hand Files, where he responds to fan letters — I've cried multiple times. He's just such a poetic, vulnerable writer. And Laura Marling's Patterns in Repeat, which recently ran a series on songwriting through the lens of tarot cards. Really brilliant brain.
One more: Nina Protocol. I've been spending a lot of time there trying to actually discover new music outside the algorithm. It's deliberately an antidote to how we're usually served content, and I love it for that.
Last question — it's easy to feel jaded about media right now, with the layoffs, the AI anxiety, legacy institutions shrinking. What keeps you from going there?
I keep finding the magic in it. I can go on TikTok right now and find something that genuinely compels me, makes me cry, makes me excited. That's still happening every single day. And that's ultimately why I got into this — storytelling is connection. It makes people feel seen and part of something.
I think about ‘What's Your Train Track’ — someone had that idea and just went and made it the following week. That would have been unimaginable to 13-year-old me, writing letters to every magazine in London trying to get someone to let me in. Media has been so democratized. The barriers are lower than they've ever been for new voices.
I'm not naive about how hard the industry is right now, or how many circumstances have to line up for people to do this work. But every day I see something so creative that I just think, ‘wow, that's an incredible idea, I can't believe someone made that.’ The big institutions are trying to keep up while independent creators are just doing the thing. And I find that exciting. I choose to stay excited about it — otherwise I wouldn't want to do this anymore.