The NYT's associate editorial page editor, David Leonhardt, asked readers a few days ago to answer a few questions, namely: "Which political views that you disagree with do you nonetheless want to read? Which views are underrepresented in the national media? [And] which views [do you consider] beyond the pale of productive debate." Leonhardt's curiosity was no doubt sparked by the Times' controversial hiring of the conservative Bret Stephens, formerly of the Wall Street Journal's editorial page. He also notes "similar criticism" of the Washington Post's hiring of the libertarian Megan McArdle and the Atlantic's hiring and 
nearly immediate firing of Kevin Williamson, billed largely as a conservative gadfly.
Leonhardt received about 1,000 replies via email and Twitter, which reveals his survey's most palpable flaw (which I'm sure Leonhardt would not dispute): It was self-selecting, a straw poll of sorts, which likely allowed for more latitudinarian views; i.e., how many respondents would insist that only right- or left-wing writers be featured in major publications? Only the exaltedly fair-minded would respond to a survey such as Leonhardt's. Nonetheless, here were the replies' "main themes."
The national media should expand the boundaries of the debate. "This," note Leonhardt, "was perhaps the most common response. There should be more writing from both pro-Trump conservatives and Jacobin-level socialists." One male reader argued for their inclusion "even though" — and this, to me, is stupendously bewildering — "elite readers may find their arguments objectionable." I beg you, Sir, pray tell, what in hell is an "elite reader"? I've been accused of being an elite (or elitist) writer (which baffles me to no end), so does that make you an elite reader? And does my elitist writing stem from my elitist reading? (Yesterday I began a biography of Lucky Luciano, not exactly high-brow stuff of which elitism is made — although I suspect the pedestrian act of reading is what, in truth, makes one an elitist these days.)
Some readers wanted more pro-Trump opinion represented in major publications. Leonhardt's response is classic. That's a bit "tricky," he writes, "because so much of Trump’s political style depends on — and there’s no other accurate way to describe it — lying." Accurate indeed. The entire Trumpian oeuvre consists of nothing but falsehoods and deep imbecilities. If you want to get stupid real fast, just plaster yourself to pro-Trump entries on Twitter; you'll come away knowing what it must have felt like to dwell in the Weimar Republic, circa 1932.
There should be more conservative arguments, especially the non-elite conservatism that helps explain Trump’s rise. This, essentially, is a repeat of the above. Some readers complained that "outside of conservative media" — Fox News, National Review, talk radio, etc. — "many of the conservative voices fall into a single category: anti-Trump, socially moderate writers." This is easily explained. To be conservative and still intelligent enough to write literate commentary means to be violently anti-Trump. The only reason the Washington Post is chockfull of NeverTrumpers — Max Boot, Michael Gerson, George Will, Jennifer Rubin and others — is that AlwaysTrumpers are subliterate idiots.
The media has many center-left voices. It needs more unabashedly left-wing voices. "Multiple readers" objected that "proudly socialist voice[s]" are missing from the op-ed pages of major newspapers, writes Leonhardt. "Proudly socialist" is then defined by these readers as, for instance, arguments for single payer and tough-on-Wall-Street sentiments. Oh how liberal socialism has become; it is difficult, these days, to distinguish the center-left from left. There is no more talk of government ownership of major industries (public utilities, if nothing else) and little talk of WPA-like jobs programs, and what talk there is is instantly scoffed at by most Americans. Which is yet more evidence of just how profoundly, historically conservative this nation is.
The media’s voices are too male, too white, too privileged and too American. The lead-in says it all, but I'll let Joshua Benton, director of the Nieman Journalism Lab, say more: "The views of African-Americans, Hispanics, Asian-Americans, and Native Americans. The views of women. The views of people who don’t live in cities, don’t have a college degree, and don’t live in the nation’s media centers.... The views of poor people." To the latter, Trump's OMB and Consumer Protection director, Mick Mulvaney, has an exquisitely 
sensible answer: just kick more millions into the pockets of Republican pols. Then you won't be so poor. It really is that simple.
Finally, Some positions don’t deserve a national platform. On this there has long been debate. What qualifies as opinion deserving of widespread publicity? Leonhardt found that readers believed that "any position deserved a hearing so long as it was backed up by facts." But facts, as we know, are malleable things. As one waggish historian once put it: The only thing more frustrating than writing history without documentation is writing history with documentation. Facts can also be used to wildly deceive, as any survey of contemporary Republican politics reveals. Still, some readers identified opinions that should be ostracized: "pro-genocide" views, "Holocaust denial and white racial supremacy." and "any argument or opinion calling for violence against a group with which the author disagrees."
What all of this neglects is that opinions are merely commodities in commercially based journalism. Most readers already get what they've asked for, since there's a broad demand for their likeminded opinions.
The problem is just as well known: Readers (most, many, damn near all) tend to read only what they agree with. I can't tell you precisely how many "loyal" readers I had during the Obama administration — until I criticized some act (or lack of one) of the Obama administration. Roughly, about half said Fuck you and Bye-bye forever. I lost more readers by opposing Hillary Clinton's presidential nomination (before her nomination), and in 2019 and 2020 I'll lose yet more readers when I back one Democratic presidential nominee over the others. That's just the way it goes, and there's no way to change it. New readers enter, of course, but attrition takes a toll and wearies bloggers — the classier appellation, opinion journalists — such as myself. One begins to wonder: What's the point of leading a choir? — other than the potential commercial payoff, which should not at all be the point of opinion journalism.
That said, I'd love to see a survey of readers that is not self-selecting; to see, that is, how deep "the problem" really does run. (Another huge problem in contemporary commentary: posts such as this one, running 1,105 words, all of which hardly anyone will read.)