Rampant drug use. Rape. Negligent homicide. Those are just a few of the lovely job perks that are part of running in a magazine crew, one of those nefarious working environments that operates in the underbelly of the magazine industry. Magazine crews, often made up of troubled youth from broken homes, are the dark secret of publishers, who like to pretend minors and convicted felons aren't going door-to-door, hawking subscriptions based on fictitious stories about raising money to travel abroad or go to band camp, and then retreating to seedy motels to get high and have their wages withheld. This whole scenario works out quite lovely for magazine publishers, who score plausible deniability about how a slice of their paid subscriptions are secured.

If this whole things sounds familiar, it should. Last February, the Times devoted 3,200 words to the matter, exposing a shadowy ring of fly-by-night operations that suck in young people hoping for a cool summer gig, only to have their sanity played with as their managers used mental and physical abuse to keep them meeting their quotas. Now, the Houston Press takes the story one step further, and in its attempt to confront the industry about its sales practice, shows just how blind an eye everyone is turning.

While mainstream publishers and their trade group, the Magazine Publishers Association, say door-to-door sales account for a minuscule percentage of annual sales, this seemingly small percentage still translates into millions. It's profitable enough to publishers like Condé Nast, Reader's Digest and others that they still consider door-to-door sales a worthwhile venture in the 21st century. And without publishers' participation, the industry would cease to exist. Which means, quite simply, that publishers have decided the collateral damage is worth the boost in circulation.

[...]

Whenever there's a tragedy tied to the industry, whether it be the death of one of the agents or of one of the customers, the industry mouthpieces issue impotent condemnations or reiterate the notion that door-to-door sales are just a sliver of the pie.

The Magazine Publishers of America will give a variation of the following, which is a statement it gave to the Press: "Magazine Publishers of America condemns any door-to-door business that preys on vulnerable individuals or poses a threat to the public. [MPA] has long urged its members to identify any subscriptions coming from these sources and recommends that its members cease doing business with any company that does not fully comply with the law. Our guidelines and relations with subscription agents are clear, and we encourage all our members to follow them."

Which, based on the Press's investigation, previous media stories and industry watchdogs, is complete nonsense. The object is to push subscriptions, and it scarcely matters how.

[...]

If the MPA is unaware of dirty canvassing, then its only other choice is to somehow believe that door-to-door companies are the country's single-biggest employer of college athletes in the marching band whose parents are dying of cancer and who are competing for a scholarship to study theater in London.

Unwritten policies like this, and the industry's general uncaring about how magazines are sold, so long as they're sold, might seem out of place in a country that's supposed to care about our young people's well-being. Hell, doesn't Conde Nast have magazines geared toward just that?

Compare America's way of doing things, then, with the magazine market in India, where — surprise — young people are also responsible for pushing magazines:

Publishers in India say the system is something they have little control over, and liken street-side magazine distribution to the American paper route, a way for children to earn a little extra money. But the children selling the magazines tell a different tale.

“If on a particular day my sales are poor, then I am abused by my employer, at times beaten as well,” said Sonu Kunar, a 12-year-old boy selling a variety of local and Western titles at the intersection of two busy New Delhi roads. Sonu says he works from 9 in the morning until 8 in the evening, and earns about 1,000 rupees, or $23.15, a month. He lives with 13 other children in a small room, and sends all the money he earns back to his family in the eastern state of Bihar. [NYT]

Honing this craft in the U.S. doesn't sound any safer.

Related: India’s Booming Magazine Market Is Just Like America’s, Complete With Violence Toward Sales Crews