For a conservative like me, The New York Times is a paradox, a daily tug-of-war between delight and dismay. On one hand, its games—Wordle, Connections, Spelling Bee, and the rest—are a daily ritual I cherish, a mental workout that sparks joy and sharpens my wits. On the other, its news and opinion pages often feel like a lecture hall for far-left ideology, leaving me questioning whether the subscription is worth it. It’s the best of times and the worst of times, all in one app.
Let’s start with the good. Wordle is a daily gem, a five-letter puzzle that demands precision and patience. I savor the moment when the tiles flip green, signaling victory in mostly three or four guesses (but I’ve gotten it in two a few times!). Connections, with its grid of 16 words, is a test of lateral thinking, grouping terms by obscure themes that make me feel like a detective cracking a code. Spelling Bee is my personal Everest—chasing “Queen Bee” status by finding every possible word from seven letters is a thrill that rivals any crossword. These games are apolitical, elegant, and addictive. They’re a sanctuary where I can engage my brain without being preached to, a rare corner of the Times that feels like it respects my intelligence rather than my ideology.
But then I swipe over to the news or opinion sections, and the mood shifts. The Times, once a bastion of rigorous journalism, often reads like a mouthpiece for progressive orthodoxy. Its coverage of President Biden’s mental decline is a glaring example. For years, as conservatives pointed to Biden’s gaffes, stumbles, and moments of apparent confusion, the Times downplayed or ignored the evidence. Articles framed his age as a mere “narrative” pushed by right-wing critics, while opinion pieces lionized his “empathy” and “experience.” Only when undeniable moments—like the June 2024 debate—forced the issue did the paper grudgingly acknowledge what many of us saw all along. This wasn’t journalism; it was enablement, a choice to prioritize narrative over truth.
Back to the games, though, and I’m reminded why I stick around. The Mini Crossword confounds me as I try to solve it faster than friends. Strands, with its word-search-meets-puzzle vibe, feels like a playful nudge to think outside the box. These games are a daily reset, a reminder that the Times can still create something universal, something that doesn’t care whether I vote red or blue. They’re a digital oasis in a paper that too often feels like it’s trying to convert me.
Yet the opinion pages keep pulling me back to frustration. The Times’ editorial board rarely deviates from a predictable left-wing script, whether it’s on climate, social justice, or economic policy. Dissenting conservative voices are scarce, and when they appear, they’re often framed as curiosities rather than equals. The paper’s reporting, while sometimes excellent, frequently carries a slant that assumes its readers already agree with its worldview. Take its coverage of cultural issues: stories on gender, race, or immigration often read like they’ve been pre-vetted by an activist focus group, with little room for nuance or debate. As a conservative, I don’t want to be spoon-fed talking points; I want to be challenged, not coddled.
So why do I stay? The games are a big part of it. They’re a daily dose of fun and mental agility that I’d miss dearly. But there’s also a sliver of hope that the Times’ journalism can rediscover its roots in objectivity. Until then, I’ll keep playing Wordle, chasing pangrams in Spelling Bee, and solving Connections while skimming their news pages with a skeptical eye. It’s a love-hate relationship—650 words can’t fully capture the tension, but every morning, as I tap that app, I feel it. The Times gives me brain games that light up my day and editorials that mostly darken my mood. For now, I’ll take the best with the worst, but I’m keeping my guard up.
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Jon Fleischman is the Publisher of the FlashReport Website on California Politics and has been political strategist for more than three decades.