...and while you're at it, create the next facebook, ok?

Another request came in from a client to create "viral videos" for them. Am I the only one in the world wide web of advertising to secretly roll their eyes at this request?

That's not entirely fair. I know what they're after. We all do. In every marketing department's vision, they create quirky web content that gets passed around the net and tallies a million hits before the sun rises the day after. But, for every Prop 8 - The Musical or Kobe jumping the Aston Martin, well-financed, professionally filmed and edited videos, there are 100 undiscovered gems like "One Line on the Sopranos" which explode due to their sheer creativity, audacity, or idiocy.

I guess what I'm getting at is that much as we'd love to accept the notion that with the mere instruction of making a viral video, we can actually create one. What we can do is build some online content. And yes, it could be a video. And yes, we'll probably make it funny. Will it be sliced bread? Probably not. Will people talk about it? Some will. Maybe a lot will. But once again, marketers are fooling themselves into thinking that control is their own when it comes to the internet.

I love viral videos. I have a tendency to laugh out loud (sorry. to lol) from my desk. There's a group of friends I share my favorite discoveries with. And THAT's what viral means. It means that we pass things around to a group who, in turn, pass them on to more people. Much like...wait for it...a virus. But from a marketing/advertising standpoint, they are one option. They certainly aren't the only option, and aren't always the best one when they're picked. At the end of the day, a great idea is a great idea. If people respond to it by sharing it, that's wonderful. But let's be careful what we, as advertisers, put within a scope of work, and let's be careful marketing departments that if we ask for a presence on the web, we understand that we will be playing by the rules of its democracy, that we can't dictate what becomes the vid du jour. If we could, we'd never have been able to predict or explain The Zombie Boy who loves turtles, Benny Lava or the Dramatic Chipmunk.

in defense of accessibility, big ideas, and wild hair

The brown cardboard package indicating an awaited delivery from Amazon.com sat wedged in the mail slot begging to be freed from its bear trap. Upon recognizing my own name on the address label, I knew instantly what was inside. "Outliers", Malcolm Gladwell's latest lay snugly within the cardboard casing, and I, like my 5 year old on her birthday, tore open the package like a very hungry moose, or a deserving porcupine (if you know your literature).

It is not rapture to read this book. Not in the way it is to settle into the worlds of some of the fiction I'm fond of. But it is engaging. And utterly engrossing. And as I predicted to my wife, I think I'll be done with it within the week.

Yesterday, I had it lying on my desk at work and one of the fellas came by and we had the following exchange (not verbatim. but relatively close):

Him: I heard that sucks.

Me: excuse me?

Him: I heard that sucks.

Me: oh? who said so?

Him: reviewers.

Me: hm.

Him: they say his methodology is shit and that it's not as good as Blink.

Me: I'm actually more a fan of The Tipping Point than I ever was of Blink.

Him: well that's what they say.

Me: hm.

Despite my powerfully persuasive, monosyllabic, vowelless utterings, we ended at that impasse. But I did realize that there are many who dismiss Gladwell's ideas, his logic, his whole being as not scientific enough. Or too "poppy". Some even take great pride in disproving his theories. The most famous of which is Duncan Watts, who set out to discredit the Connectors, Mavens, Salesmen trifecta that Gladwell laid out in how trends move through our world. And he does offer up intelligent, scientific proof that he created using virtual community programming models. By all accounts, when I heard about him, he got me thinking. But then I realized, I wonder if Malcolm Gladwell cares?

Which isn't a slap in the face to the theorists who seek to knock him off the pedestal on which he never (as far as I know) asked to be placed. It's more to say, my sense of Mr. Gladwell is that he's simply curious. He thinks a big thought and then seeks to figure out a new way of approaching its proof and its validity. Blink certainly isn't the only book ever written about instinct, but it might be the most accessible. And therein lies Gladwell's gift. And by gift, I don't just mean his talent, but a gift he gives to we the people. He makes complex thinking available to those who can't follow the logarithms and theorem proofs that make big ideas seem the sole property and realm of the eggheaded and singularly-focused statisticians of the world.

In the Gladwellian form, I offer up as lab rats two of my dear friends from college. To protect their identities, I will change their names from Alex and Dave to Sam and Eric, respectively.

Sam and Eric were two of the smartest guys I've ever met. Ever. Each of them clearly representing the top echelon of intellectual minds at Tufts University in the mid-1990s. Both clearly well versed, and well-studied in multiple disciplines, they each settled into their respective majors with both ease and regret at not choosing one of the other numerous potential pursuits of study. Both had, over the drinking of beers, revealed (confessed?) their near-perfection on the standardized testing circuit. Both had rejected offers to attend other Ivy League schools based on academic opportunities and scholarship offers from the good people at Tufts. Both had proven their linguistic dexterity through dizzying thesaurian conversations that amounted to wordplay-based one-upmanship. By any measure, they were smart. Dare I say, very smart.

And yet, if asked, I need not be heavily pressed to offer the opinion that Eric was the more intelligent of the two. (Oddly, I was actually much closer friends with Sam, and want desperately to change the story in his favor. But, I did just gush over his intelligence, so...meh.) The difference was very clear. While both beyond capable of passionate discourse on wide ranging subject matter, Eric had a way of making it all so tangible, so real. As if even I, a mere English major, quick-quitter of the pre-med program, soon thereafter Master of Fine Arts, even I could grasp Kant, Einstein, and Kurzweil. I didn't, entirely, of course truly grasp their theories. But Eric had a way of making it available to me in ways that Sam never could. He took big ideas and made them accessible. Not dumbed-down. Not condescending. Just, possible.

I think that's a real gauge for true intelligence. The ability not only to wrestle with big ideas, but to consider an audience and make the same information meaningful, fascinating, and understandable to them. I love this kind of intelligence because it helps the world engage in conversations and ideas they wouldn't otherwise be having because they aren't encouraged too. Because it's not their domain. Because big ideas belong to those with PhDs and labcoats and bowties.

Malcolm Gladwell, that wild-haired Canadian theorist-storyteller, serves us in the same way. His books grapple with some monster ideas: how do trends disseminate through a society? what is behind the power of our instinct? what is the context in which genius flourishes? And while I can't make a definitive pronouncement one way or another or his methodologies (they seem well laid out, thoughtful, and mostly logical to me), I offer the defense that anyone who asks the masses to consider and examine bigger ideas than they might not otherwise contemplate is always worth the price of admission. Or at least an Amazon delivery.

big theory followthrough, idea festival, analog/digital

Realizing that I am an intermittent (read: sh---y) blogger, I'm berating myself on my own site. Deservedly so. How about a little followthrough? How about ongoing entries? How about it, bro? Yeesh.

I have an ongoing hypothesis about social networking (the social surrogate theory) which needs a framework and more entries around the topics I've outlined for myself. Like many of my thoughts and hypotheses, I bore myself to tears when I don't lay the whole thing out and then I move on to the next idea bouncing around in my head. This is known as Topical A.D.D. And I've got it. It's one reason why I'm strong at brainstorming and poor at laying out multi-annual strategies on a month by month basis. So, I'm sure I've got more to add to the SST, but it might have to get picked up after being away from it for a while.

Went to Idea Festival in Louisville, KY. This will probably be the subject of one or two blog entries in a row (staring tonight? tomorrow? soon.). I just didn't want to do a straight up "here's what the amazing speakers said at Idea Festival 2008" blog entry. I'm more inclined to mull over what I heard and then offer up some thinking about how it will impact me. Suffice it to say, though. Pretty cool festival. Lots of topics. Lots of (dare I say) ideas. Hopefully, I'll have something interesting to say about it all in the upcoming entries.

Lastly, I've been noticing how attached to my iPhone I've become. I can't seem to take a bus ride, or a car ride, or even a walk to the local caffe without checking mail, twitter, facebook, playing a game, or texting a friend. oh yeah, or making a phone call. I had forgotten it does that too. I have taken to going for walks and repeating a mantra "stay analog. stay analog. stay analog." just so I can appreciate what's going on around me. I am losing myself to the machine. I used to sketch, noodle, write stream of consciousness, all kinds of things in my Moleskine. Now instead of contemplating nature, I am taking a quick picture to embed via twitpic. It's a little sad. Anyway, I am thinking of doing a walk-a-thon or some kind of sponsored event to get myself off the device. Stay analog. Stay analog.

on the concept of Intimacy - (part 3)

Initially, I proposed the use of the term “intimacy” to describe digital connectedness to a roomful of my colleagues. “Why not ‘friendship’, ‘rapport’ or ‘togetherness’?” they asked. I think that what I observe to exist in the online world is the search for something of a kind of closeness that is a level deeper than simple affinity. Intimacy may not be what is commonly achieved in the digital world, but I think it is what is sought.

Certainly for some, the desire remains to be a collector of sorts. The goal in these cases is built on discovering how many friends or followers or connections (or whatever the appropriate platform vernacular might be) one can obtain. That’s always been my hang up with MySpace – it always felt like volume was the driver. It didn’t seem to mimic my own reality of finding a smaller group of people that was predicated on shared commonalities. That in real life (using the term relatively), humans strive to find intimacy – close familiarity that reaches beyond facial identification, name recall, or the automatic, empty exchange of head nods and how-do-you-do’s in a workplace hallway.

I was unashamedly in a men’s a cappella group in college, the Tufts Beelzebubs. I describe these people as my brothers, even today. We were notoriously close. When asked what the difference was between my Bub brethren and the campus fraternity scene, I was struck at the obviousness of the answer. We were brought together for a common purpose – we all believe in fun through song. We weren’t just seeking out quantity of connections, we were limited in capacity, but the depth of connection increased exponentially because of a shared purpose, interest, and idea (that and khakis, jackets and ties).

The phenomenon of intimacy in the digital space works, I believe in much the same way. People using the social web have a deep need to create profound personal connections with their communities based on a handful of drivers: likeminded thinking, shared content, musical tastes, or common experiences. It is when online social selves are allowed the opportunity to discover what their web counterparts are all about that they actually create a deep connective bond. An intimacy. This is why I have fallen so hard for Twitter. I have found a group of people that I follow based on watching them think their thoughts “out loud”, and then decide whom I’d like to reach out to because I think we share a sense of humor, a perspective on the industry, a political viewpoint, a common ground. It is (again) why some sites don’t offer much beyond a means of finding old friends or collecting a digital Rolodex. This concept has been discussed here and there online, but I had a great discussion about it with @abfdc and @tfrommer, which was captured nicely (and thankfully not as verbosely as I clearly would have done it) here.

As we create new social platforms, sites, and online communities, I think we will find that the most successful ones of the lot are the ones that encourage and enable the opportunity to discover each other as similarly as we do in the analog world – as beings with nuanced thoughts, sensibilities and tastes seeking intimacy with others who offer complementary qualities, beliefs and purposes.

This is already too long, but I wanted to make mention of tangential thinking that relates to the topic of intimacy of this kind.

Illusion
Just as we can find great connections with likeminded folks online, it would be impossible to have this discussion without recognizing the antithetical at play here. For as much as there’s depth of intimacy to be found online, there is without a doubt a major amount of illusion at play as well. The truth is, despite the great democratization of voice the Internet enables, we still create a hierarchical, celebrity-system of digital personalities. Within that mistaken fantasy that we’ve all got the same sized digital megaphone, lies the difficulty that - with such ease of access comes an assumed closeness where there probably isn’t one. The open entry to our digital heroes via blog comment pages, online forums, or yes, my vaunted Twitter, create the illusion of connection, of intimacy. We believe that in that comment/exchange/response that we are securing the attentions and affections of other members of this online tribe, when the reality is that it is often much more fleeting than that, and as with all things, time and consistency remain the best indicators of the truest connections.

Another part of that illusion of intimacy is expressed through a certain amount of voyeurism. We feel that we know certain personalities so we like to watch the tête-à-tête, the back and forth of witty barbs. There’s a safety in just watching from a safe distance as people engage in one-upmanship and juicy banter. We’re not a part of the conversation (or maybe we dare to engage here and there), but the digital world allows us to be privy to whichever intimacies we stumble upon that day.


Closeness in the comments space (or, anonymity-enabled honesty)
Michael Wesch points this out in his wonderful address to the Library of Congress, but it truly is fascinating. The most interesting dialogue happening online is often found in the comments section after an article or blog entry. Most interesting or most degenerative? I’m not sure which is more consistently accurate. Sadly, my best guess is the latter. But the point is in watching how base feelings become quickly escalated and expressed in these end sections of a webpage. And yes, Wesch specifically calls out the common radical insult escalation game that gets played out, but I think there’s an implied intimacy here as well. One that allows a person to be as explicit as he or she chooses, with whatever degree of force or opinion they wish, with virtually no repercussion to deal with (perhaps an incoming barrage of assaulting messages). It is fascinating however, to consider the boldness that is found online. I link this with a different kind of intimacy, but a form of intimacy nonetheless. This one isn’t seeking connection, it is an intimacy of allowance, of emboldened spirits based on the closeness the Internet affords.

If you’re still here, I love ya. Thanks for hearing me out. As always, I’m looking for your reactions, additions, and corrections. Agree or disagree, my guess is that we’ve shared something here. Haven’t we?

on the concept of Identity - (part 2)

...as opposed to persona

The important role of identity in the social network space seems obvious and unquestionable. Who we are, who others perceive us to be, how we want others to perceive us, how we want to perceive ourselves. There is a hinge, it seems, on the role of perception. And a spectrum of truth against which that perception is focused. Much has been written about online identities. Most eloquently might be Diana Kimball's take on it:

We build up our personal online identities, in large part, through the detritus we automatically leave behind: pictures we wanted others to see, articles we wanted others to read. Online identity is a very weird idea. It hinges on faith in honesty: if identity implies authenticity, then the information that helps to construct it cannot be false. But online identities are definitely constructed in other ways. They constitute the internet’s built environment: the structures we can see and study, and whose construction we can interrogate for meaning and consequence. These structures are in some ways completely under the owner’s control, and in others complete out of it.

There is a lot to take in here. I encourage you to re-read the quote.

The first part observes that it is our leave-behinds that define who we are. The moments of "check this out" or "some pics I found". It leaves me to wonder if we actively construct our online selves, or if identity is a by-product of engagement. Before responding to that, we must decide if we either buy into the idea that a person's first engagement in the digital social space is done purposefully or casually. Do people enter onto (let's say) facebook in a state of apathy, daring the online world to show them what's out there, or is there some intention around joining/signing up? If the latter is true, which I presume it is - at least for those who stick with whatever platform they've chosen, we have to believe that with intention comes awareness. And within awareness we find identity.

It is this awareness that leads to Ms. Kimball's last sentence:

These structures are in some ways completely under the owner’s control, and in others complete out of it.

Our self-awareness leads directly to how we present ourselves. I surmise that many start off trying to play a persona that is carefully constructed. Online, anything is possible. It's the neoclassic image of a person using false representations of themselves to appear more attractive on that great bastion of truth, the online dating site. Because somewhere in our minds, in our egos, perhaps in our most frustrated and desperate selves, we believe that the internet will allow us, will afford us the opportunity to become better than we think of our current self-assessment. But the key element in the construction of a social identity is time.

I think we grow into our authenticity. I think time is the great seeker in the game of identity hide and seek. It will always find us. We might begin our venture into the social networking world with the idea that we will become someone or something we wish for ourselves. But the more time we spend online, the more messages we write, pictures we share, dialogs we have, comments we make, the greater the chance that our true selves take over where the guise of a persona falters. The more we become certain of ourselves as individuals, the easier it becomes to maintain consistency of character. Or the more of our true feelings, thoughts, beliefs, and opinions become revealed to the communities we enter.

So where does that leave us? Have I talked in circles here? I often do. It's part of what makes me Me. I think the final thought on identity at this point is that identity is not something we construct. It is something that emerges organically the more time we spend engaging in social spheres, be they digital or analog.

The Social Surrogate Theory - (part 1)

...in which I pose the general hypothesis













I was inspired by Michael Wesch's ethnographic introduction to the Library of Congress (thanks for sending it around, Piers). Inspired, that is, to do a little more thinking out loud about social networks and why they matter so much in our society. I'm working on a hypothesis. I haven't quite reached the crux of what I'm searching for, but I feel I'm close.

I pose this idea, knowing that others have probably written multiple dissertations on the subject, not to mention books, blogs, and blah blah blah... If you're one of those people, my interest in the analog social impact of digital social networks is earnest. I'm open to references to read, conflicting points of view, research that already exists, and even an old fashioned "why don't you leave this to the experts" smackdown.

Here's the basic premise:

• Social networks are a surrogate means of making authentic connections with other people. They are the natural outcome of a world with a dramatic reliance on machines and technology. As society moves into this culture of "togetherness through isolation", social networks are an enabling force that provide a simulation of the rich physical forms of human connection that we have lost our ability to cultivate through direct means.

Although I think this sounds a little like the diary entry of a erudite luddite, I am deeply, sometimes I think unhealthily, engaged in the daily (nay, hourly) use of a handful of these precious media.

My intention is to break down the thematic pillars of what social networking provides in parallel to the human experience. The next handful of entries will look at these, one theme at a time. My working list considers the concepts of: identity, immediacy, intimacy, possibility, advocacy, community, democracy, control, escape, and enjoyment.

As always, feel free to jump in and add direction, notes, your thinking, questions, or better insights.

Bulls---!

I was in a client meeting in which they briefed us about a new project and a term came up which irked me to no end. It wasn’t the first time, and I think that’s why I cringed at its utterance. Client X described the project target by saying, “we’re going after a target of 18-54 year olds, with a bullseye target of 21-34”.

As you read that, are you noticing what I’m noticing, or have you become immune to the inanity of this definition? It would be understandable. I hadn’t heard this “bullseye” idea until a couple of years ago and now I’m hearing it more and more. My problems with the bullseye notion are plenty, but let’s use the above example as our case study.

Point 1: 18-54 year olds is not a target definition, it is a massive cross-section of the general population. I have railed against using demography to outline consumers previously (check that here), and aside from the arguments made there, which basically state how we are products of our thoughts, actions, interests, and geographies more than our birth certificates, what irks me here is the notion that with this broad age range, zero nuance is taken into consideration. Essentially, Client X is telling me, “we imagine our product will be relevant for every adult north of high school and south of early retirement.” No. Way. I think we can all agree that a) in an ideal world, we’d have products that appealed to that kind of an age range and b) it has to be understood that by pinpointing a target (based on whatever factors you choose, but hopefully choosing something more to do with their reaction to a receding hairline and less about the year they began losing it), you will undoubtedly reach people you weren’t expecting to reach.

When Axe shows the guy picking up the girl in the convenience store, it is clearly aimed at (in bland demographic terms) 18-24 year old men. BUT, I think we can assume that somewhere out there, a mid-30’s guy, or a woman, or even a spry septuagenarian, might see that same commercial and feel it captures something about them too. No communication ever only reaches the “target” it always stretches beyond, even to a remarkable few.

My point simply being that you don’t need the big fat range of every adult in the Western Hemisphere. We get it. You’re hoping to reach a lot of people. Which brings us to

Point 2: Please help us rid the world of jargon. The last thing advertisers and marketing departments need is another buzzword. Catchphrases sadly sell books and draw attention, but they also push consumers further away from products and corroborate the notion that this is an industry of snake oil salesmen and sinister doubletalkers. Skip the new parlance, trust that simple, specific language will communicate everything you hoped and more, and get to who you really want to focus on. Just tell us.

Bullseye targeting is a lazy way to seem like you’re thinking deeper than you really are. I think it’s a trick someone came up with to make it appear as though they were working much harder than they were. That there was great understanding of consumer truth, when really it’s just saying “we looked at everyone and now we want to focus on this smaller group”. Which is what you’re doing if you just skip the “bulls---“ and get to the point.