2026 Pulitzer Prize Remarks: Opinion Writing

Sara Krulwich/The New York Times

KATHLEEN KINGSBURY:

It's an honor to walk these halls and climb these stairs any day of the year. This afternoon, it's especially sweet, and I promise I'll keep it short.

I'm Katie Kingsbury, head of New York Times Opinion.

I want to start by acknowledging our colleague Nick Kristof, named a finalist in the same category - recognition that Nick's work continues to set a standard for moral seriousness in this profession. Congratulations to Nick and his editor Susannah Meadows.

Like everyone else, I also want to say thank you to the Sulzberger family and the Times leadership for believing in and protecting a robust Opinion section. It is not a given, and we don't take it for granted.

And now, to Masha.

When I asked Masha to join Times Opinion in 2023, I felt confident that we were getting one of the most clarifying voices of our era. What I could not have known was how urgently we would need that voice.

Masha is a reminder of what this work actually asks of the people who do it well: the willingness to be inconvenient, to find yourself under threat, to be exiled and to keep going anyway.

It requires refusing the easy accommodations that authoritarians count on. And it requires, sometimes, the willingness to lose a country in order to tell the truth about it.

Congratulations, Masha, on winning the Pulitzer Prize for Opinion Writing. We are extraordinarily lucky to have you.

Now I'd like to introduce our colleague Ariel Kaminer, Masha's editor. A master wordsmith in her own right, Ariel's steady, kind and wise hand is on every Times piece of Masha's that you've read and admired. Ariel…

ARIEL KAMINER:

Over the years that I at The Times have worked with Masha, from time to time somebody asks me if they are as intimidating in person as they seem - which, you know, fair. But I always have to explain that, you know, the nature of the writer-editor relationship. We work together closely through crazy deadlines and late nights and all of that, and you get to know the person in a different way, up close. And up close, actually, Masha is much more intimidating.

They hold the world's most powerful people to ruthless account. They shine a light on the dark workings of autocracy, authoritarianism - all the bad things - laying bare the brutal workings of autocracy. They also hold themself to ruthless account. I don't know if everybody here has yet had the pleasure of listening to "The Idiot," the Serial Production that was recently released. Highly recommend. But if you have heard it, then you know that at the end of it, when it was already kind of wrapped and released into the world, Masha just decided to record an extra segment, brought in a some brilliant expert to sit down and basically lay waste to all of Masha's dearest convictions about this story that they had just reported.

And they bring that same intellectual rigor and curiosity to everything that they do. They also hold readers and the general public to a pretty ruthless account, you know, routinely refusing our loyal subscribers the false comfort of hashtag resistance or of the fiction that faced with overwhelming power, the only reasonable response is to submit.

And that's because of Masha's incredible bravery. That's personal and physical bravery. I would say that within the last year, Masha reported from within 20 miles of the front line in Ukraine, even though Russia had already convicted them in absentia of many bad things and sentenced them to eight years in prison. That doesn't slow Masha down. And Masha's moral courage is as impressive as their physical courage. And I think that I see again and again that readers are inspired by Masha's courage to find their own moral compass, and they are profoundly grateful. And I just wanted to say that I share their gratitude and thank you for all of the amazing work.

MASHA GESSEN:

Hello. Thank you.

The best opinion writing, as I understand it - Ariel will correct me if I'm wrong - offers new ways of thinking about the news, but isn't wacky. It's often rooted in the writer's personal experience, but isn't self-indulgent. It is, in other words, a tightrope act. And for me, it's possible only when I'm working with an editor whom I trust fully. I know that Ariel Kaminer will pull me back when I am taking an argument too far and will push me when I am not taking it far enough. And I know that Sarah Chatta, our editorial assistant, will not let me get a fact wrong - and much more than that, will find the information that bolsters my argument and will alert me to whatever might poke a hole in it.

The columns for which I am being recognized today are columns I wish I didn't have to write, but felt fortunate to be able to write and publish. I think readers experience a similar mix of feelings when they encounter them. The piece that probably best sums up this contradiction was a column titled "This Is the Feeling of Losing a Country. I Know It Well." The idea for it came from Meeta Agrawal, who Slacked something like, "Does Masha want to write about the feeling of losing a country?" It is extraordinary professional luck to work with editors who not only can somehow name your feelings, but will also encourage you to write about them.

But the most incredible thing about working at Times Opinion has been, for me, the mandate to explore my interests at the pace that the work dictates - and the resources to do it. For this, I am grateful beyond measure to Katie Kingsbury for bringing me in, and to A.G. and the Sulzberger family, and to Meredith. After almost two years here, I am still learning how much more it's possible to do here.

I think for every prize winner, in every category, there are many people who are just as talented and work just as hard. And I say this as a journalist living in exile. There are so many of us, from Russia, Palestine, Venezuela, Iran, Turkey, the Philippines … I am only naming countries that people I actually know come from, and still I could go on. Some are working for media in exile, doing astonishingly inventive work while barely making ends meet. A friend of mine here in New York works as a barista. Another works as a bookstore clerk, and another as a middle-school teacher. Very few of us have been fortunate enough to stay in journalism and to have the resources to do the best possible job at it, as I do at my now home at The Times. I couldn't feel luckier.

Thank you.