Our Mission
We are not good citizens. There, I said it.
We don’t question the status quo. We don’t hold our leaders accountable. Many don’t vote. Most don’t engage in issues that shape our lives and communities.
Think about it. Why does your grocery bill keep rising while farmers struggle to make ends meet?
When a big breaking scandal hijacks your attention, do you get a clear picture of what happened, or just a blur of accusations and counter-accusations?
When you’re choking on Delhi’s smog or stuck in Bangalore’s soul-crushing traffic, do you know who exactly is responsible for these urban nightmares and what have they done or not done to find a solution?
Chances are, you don’t.
Why? Is it because we are incapable? Because we’re a bunch of idiots?
No. Absolutely not. Our lack of engagement is not a question of capability. It’s not entirely our fault.
The blame lies partly at the feet of our broken public discourse and our failing media. Because the cold, hard truth is this: journalism, as it currently stands, is broken.
Anger sells. The superficial sells. We are fed a steady diet of polarising opinions, sensationalised headlines, and simplistic narratives. We are encouraged to take sides, to view the world in black and white.
Someone out there is always trying to sell you something: a product, a service, an idea, an ideology. So much bullshit. What unites all bullshitters is their singular goal to persuade or impress—not to lead you towards the truth.
So many journalists are also fed up. Tired of this polluted information ecosystem. Tired of chasing trends and the wants of algorithms. Tired of compromising values for views and shares.
The result is a full-blown crisis of citizenship. We are more divided than ever, getting deeper in our echo chambers. Scrolling through the news and social media feeds often leaves us angry, cynical, and helpless—fueling a sense of resignation: ‘If nothing will change, what’s the point of engaging?’
And what greater victory is there for tyrants and the powers that be, than when citizens feel hopeless, start believing they have no agency, and accept their roles as mere subjects?
The scale of this challenge is immense, and it calls for a fundamental rethinking of what journalism is and what it can be. It requires a new kind of platform, one that is hell-bent on bridging the gap between the issues that shape our lives and our understanding of them.
Enter The Plank—a new magazine that’s fiercely committed to the idea that good journalism is essential to good citizenship. To help our readers make sense of the world and take action to shape it.
What you’ll find in our pages are thoughtful, well-researched stories that go beyond the headlines to explore the deeper forces shaping our society. We want to build a relationship with our readers and help restore their sense of collective agency. We want to be the voice of your smart and trusted friend—you know, the one who calls out nonsense and loves an intense debate. We will challenge you, make you question everything, and help you see the world in new ways.
Of course, we are not naive. This is going to be hard. We might just be punching above our weight. We know.
But the point right now is to start. On a journey of exploration and experimentation. To reimagine what journalism can be, what citizenship can be.
To give this mission life, we figured, we don’t need to wait for big cheques in the bank. We could simply bootstrap this idea out into the world and then see what happens. Which means we can only publish a few stories. But which also means razor-sharp focus to work hard on each one.
Because good citizens don’t wait for perfect conditions to start affecting change. They start where they are, with what they have, and build from there.
We are rolling up our sleeves and getting to work. One story at a time.
Welcome to The Plank. Let’s do this.
Call for Submissions
Is it crazy to ask writers to send their best story ideas to a magazine that doesn’t even exist beyond this page—a magazine that hasn’t published a single word?
Absolutely. It’s bonkers.
The professional incentives aren’t obvious. You can’t add “published in an unknown magazine” to your Twitter bio. Your access to sources might be limited. You can’t know how many people will read your work.
But here’s what you do have: a publication on a mission to create a space for writers like you, who are itching to tell stories on their terms, who want to grow and evolve in their craft, and work with people who care as deeply about your story as you do—and does so with unwavering values, courage, and purpose.
This is us.
In an ideal world, the best among you would be reporting those mind-blowing magazine stories with David Remnick as your Editor—the absolute dream. But let’s be real, that’s not happening anytime soon. (Or maybe never. Sorry.)
So why not take a chance and do your most brilliant work with me instead? Think of me as your Sasta David Remnick. (Forgot to mention: we are small, but our ambition is limitless.)
We’re taking a leap of faith here, trying to carve out a new space for journalism and writing. We’re asking you to take that leap with us. That’s the primary reason to bring your A-game to The Plank.
If our scrappy little magazine and its mission resonate with you, let’s talk. Pitch us your ideas—the ones that offer fresh perspectives on politics, economy, technology, health and culture.
We are looking for analytical long-form features that dive into complex issues with data, research and solid theoretical foundations; thought-provoking essays that challenge established notions and link ideas across disciplines; deeply reported investigations that uncover the influence of power and money on our everyday life; contemporary history pieces that revisit significant past events, providing fresh analyses on their implications and lessons for the present.
At The Plank, we have no rules. We’re not imitating any other magazine—we are building from the ground up and setting our own standards of excellence for what makes a great story. We are not slaves to meaningless metrics or ideological dogmas.
Think original. Think from first principles. Think what readers will find valuable. Expand your imagination. Follow your obsessions. Follow your expertise.
The only filter: your story should help readers become better citizens by offering new perspectives and a deeper understanding of the world, all delivered in clear, accessible language, with honesty and integrity.
Write to samarthbansal@pm.me. Send a clear, concise summary of your story idea, including the central question or argument you plan to explore. Also mention why this story matters now and how it will contribute to the public’s understanding of the issue at hand.
Please include your writing samples. Your best long-form work. Where you have published before doesn’t matter. We just want to read what you’ve got.
Now, let’s address the elephant in the room: rates. The state of writing fees in Indian journalism is haunting. It’s mind-boggling how we’ve tolerated such abysmal rates for so long.
We are clear: great writing deserves fair compensation. Period. (Sure, you can publish without it—as many publications do—but we’re not in the business of exploiting labour.)
At The Plank, we’re committed to doing better. We’re kicking things off with a base rate of ₹40,000 per magazine story.
We’ll be honest: ₹40,000 might not fully reflect the effort that goes into crafting a solid piece—work that is mostly invisible to the world. We’ve been there—spending many weeks and months on researching, thinking and writing stories—so we totally get it.
But this fee is the best we can offer right now. As we grow, we’re committed to raising our rates—you have my word. And that’s not an excuse. It’s a promise.
Limited resources also mean some limitations in the ideas we can pursue. But as we’ve learnt from experience, there’s so much we can do even without big budgets—we just need to channel our energy in the right direction. (And btw, we’are strategically working on the money bit too.)
That’s about it. Send us your ideas. Or questions. Or suggestions.
We are starting The Plank so a bunch of us can come together to follow our curiosity, our sense of what matters, and our commitment to the craft and ethics of great journalism—and have loads of fun doing it. Can’t do this without you.