Category Archives: Personal

A collection of personal thoughts and stories

To the Grad Class of 2015: Don’t Rely on Planning

gradMy oldest daughter is graduating from university in a few short weeks. She’s planning for the future. Her mother and I, being practical parents, have instilled this need for planning in her. It’s what practical people do. They make plans.

I, 32 years ago, on my own graduation date – also made plans. According to my plan, I should now be a senior producer on a national Canadian TV drama. This is, of course, after working my way up as a production assistant, writer and possibly a director. But, as Helmuth von Moltke said, “No battle plan survives contact with the enemy.” In my case, the enemy were the vagaries of real life. Oh – and a little thing called the Internet. In 1983, who’d have guessed that one?

In 1983, my friends in college also had plans. As far as I can tell, only one of them actually had life go somewhat according to plan. He’s the 6 o’clock news anchor in a major Canadian city. The rest of us, as near as I can figure, were pretty much blown around by the winds of fate. Not that this is a bad thing. Now, with the benefit of hindsight, I wouldn’t have traded one minute of my digital marketing career for my planned career in television.

The thing is, the world changes too fast to rely on our plans. There is no way we can forecast what’s to come. For those of you who were also making plans in the 80’s, could you have possibly imagined the world we now live in? The fun of life is in discovering new opportunities we couldn’t have possibly foreseen and grasping them. In 1983, the only people who had heard of the Internet were the National Science Foundation and a few university professors. But, just a decade later, it opened a door for me that would in turn lead to an entirely new career.

That was then. This is now. If the world changed that much in the last three decades, just imagine how much it will change in the next three. Somewhere out there is the next Internet – an exponential technology that will wipe out entire industries and start new ones. Keep your eyes open for it. And when you see it, look at it as an opportunity to grow, not as a threat to your plans.

There’s an important distinction here. I’m not saying don’t plan. Planning forces you to think about the future, and that’s always a good thing. Just don’t rely on them. Be prepared to change as required.

I’m always amazed by how our lives are changed by fate. Sudden little detours get thrown in our path that forces a change of direction. And, when we look back, we realize that those little detours made all the difference. For example, I was fired from a job. It was certainly not planned. But as a result, I moved, met my wife, started a family and eventually launched a new career. Yet, at the time, it seemed that my plan for life was blown to pieces. Today, I realize it may be the single best thing that every happened to me.

In talking to my daughter and others of her generation, it seems that they get the uncertainty of the world far better than we did. Maybe it’s because they grew up in a more fluid, dynamic environment. They seem to understand that life is a series of course adjustments and corrections. When my generation graduated, we planned for a life-long career. My daughter is planning, but the plan doesn’t extend past the next year or so, at which time she’ll recalibrate. This tends to frustrate parents, but it’s probably a much more realistic view of the world.

I also realized, as I discussed post-secondary learning with my daughters, that our model of education is hopelessly locked into an outdated view of the future. It’s probably because it’s been created by a generation of linear thinkers and planners. You go to school, you get your degree, and then you go start your career. Wouldn’t it make sense to take a more iterative approach to education, turning it into a lifelong support platform for a constantly evolving plan? You go live your life, and when you take a change of course that requires more learning, you can do so easily and on your own agenda.

My advice for the Class of 2015? Plan if you must. But become a lifelong seeker of opportunity. Leave your options fluid enough to respond to fate. And realize that someday, your life will be defined by the things you never anticipated rather than by the plans you made.

Mourning Becomes Electric

dreamstime_19503560Last Friday was a sad day. A very dear and lifelong friend of mine, my Uncle Al, passed away. And so I did what I’ve done before on these occasions. I expressed my feelings by writing about it. The post went live on my blog around 10:30 in the morning. By mid afternoon, it had been shared and posted through Facebook, Twitter and many other online channels. Many were kind enough to send comments. The family, in the midst of their grief, forwarded my post to their family and friends. Soon, there was an extended network of mourning that sought to heal each other, all through channels that didn’t exist just a few years ago. Mourning had moved online.

As you probably know, I’m fascinated by how we express our innate human needs through digital technologies. And death, together with birth, is the most universal of human experiences. It was inevitable that we would use online channels to grieve. So I, as I always do, asked the question – why?

First of all – why do we mourn? Well, we mourn because we are social animals. We are probably the most social of animals. So we grieve to an according degree. We miss the departed terribly. It is natural to try to fill the hole a death tears inside of us by reaching out to others who may share the same grief. James R. Averill believed we communally mourn because it cements the social bonds that make it more likely that we will survive as a species. When it comes to dealing with death, misery loves company.

Secondly, why do we grieve online? Well, here, I think it has something to do with Granovetter’s weak ties. Death is one of those life events where we reach beyond the strong ties that define our day-to-day social existence. Certainly we seek comfort from those closest to us, but the death also triggers the existence of a virtual community – defined and united by their grieving for the one who has passed away. Our digital networks allow us to eliminate the six degrees of separation in one fell swoop. We can share our grief almost instantaneously and simultaneously with family, friends, acquaintances and even people we have never met.

There are two other aspects of grief that I believe lend themselves well to online channels: the need to chronicle and the comfort of emotional distance.

Part of the healing process is sharing memories of the departed love one. And, for those like myself, just writing about our feelings helps overcome the pain. Online provides a perfect platform for chronicling. We can share our own thoughts and, in the expressing of them, start the healing process.

The comfort of physical distance seems a contradictory idea, but almost everyone I know who has gone through a deep loss has one common dread – dealing with a never-ending stream of condolences over the coming weeks and months, triggered by each new physical encounter.

When you’ve been in the middle of the storm, you are typically a few days ahead of everyone else in dealing with your grief. Your mind has been occupied with nothing else as you have sat vigil by the hospital bed. While the condolences are given with the best of intentions, you feel compelled to give a response. The problem is, each new expression of grief forces you to replay your loop of very painful memories. The amplitude of this pain increases when it’s a face-to-face encounter. Condolences that reach you through a more detached channel, such as online, can be dealt with at your discretion. You can wait until you marshall the emotional reserves necessary to respond. You can also respond to several people at a time. How many times have you heard this from a grieving loved one, “I just wish I could record my message and play it whenever I meet someone who wants to tell me how sorry they are for my loss?” It may seem callous, but no one wants to relive that pain over and over again. And let’s face it – almost no one knows the right things to say at a moment like this.

By the end of last Friday, my online social connections had helped me ease a very deep pain. I hope I was able to return the favor for others that were dealing with their own grief. There are many things about technology that I treat with suspicion, but in this case, turning online seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

The True Meaning of Awesome

My Uncle Al and I - 1963

My Uncle Al and I – 1963

My Uncle Al passed away today. I wish you could have known him.

Al loved gadgets and technology. He was an early adopter for his entire life. He helped me set up my first stereo (complete with 8 Track player). He had his own email domain. And he loved Facebook. If we posted a picture of our kids, or ourselves – or pretty much anything – he always left the same comment….

“Awesome!”

Now, a lot of people use the word awesome. Like many words, it’s power has become diluted through over usage and misuse. But if anyone knew the true meaning of the word awesome, it was my Uncle Al.

The true definition of awesome, the one not corrupted by popular usage, is this:

causing or inducing awe; inspiring an overwhelming feeling of reverence, admiration, or fear

When my Uncle Al used the word “awesome” I think that is how he meant it.

For instance – “awesome” as in “awesome responsibility” – a responsibility so great that it can crush some people. A responsibility that is so heavy that you may be tempted to just set it down now and again. But Al never did.

I know Al because of my father (he’s not a biological uncle – he’s an honourary one). They became friends about 55 years ago. They met at the church where my father was volunteering as a faith instructor. Al was looking to join the congregation. They soon became inseparable friends.

At the age of 27, my father had to have back surgery. Uncle Al visited him in his hospital room and made a promise – “Bill, I will always look after your family if anything happens.” Of course, at 27 neither of them expected anything to really happen. But it did. Dad developed a blood clot and passed away, leaving behind my Mom and I. I was one.

Now, the promise Al made could easily have been forgotten. Al would have been in his early 20’s at the time. No one would have expected him shoulder the “awesome” responsibility of looking after a grief-stricken widow and her young son. But Al did. For 53 years. Through all the ups and downs of our subsequent lives. Al was always there – helping, supporting, guiding. He was our rock. Not once did he put down the weight of the promise he had made. Just last fall, he was there, lifting appliances and loading furniture on a truck to help me move my Mom and Step-dad into a new home. Now, I know he was already suffering from the condition that would ultimately take his life, but he never slowed down. Not once. Not ever. Al had made an promise and he was going to keep it.

Al had an “awesome” sense of family. He revered family. His love of family knew no boundaries. It extended to his children, his wife, his siblings and to an extended family of which I was honoured to become part of. He and my Auntie Yvonne raised many, many foster children. He adopted dozens of honorary nephews and nieces, including my sisters and – eventually – my wife and children. For Al, there was no division between blood and love. We were all his children, whether or not we shared DNA.

Al worshiped family. He was never happier than in the buzz and give-and-take energy of a family gathering. Just yesterday, as Al lay in his hospital bed, edging nearer to the threshold between this world and the next, we surrounded him and shared stories and a few minutes of welcome laughter. I had a slight twinge of guilt, wondering if our behavior was appropriate given the gravity of the situation. Then I realized that Al would have loved the fact that he was in the center of all this. He would have thought it was “awesome.”

Even if you never met Al, by now you know he was an “awesome” father and husband. He was, in the words of his son Gregg, “the best man I have ever known.”  And much as we all grieve as we were forced to say goodbye far too soon, I cannot imagine the loss that is being shouldered by his soulmate – my Aunt Yvonne.

“Soulmate” – there’s another of those words that has had it’s meaning muddied because of overuse. But, if ever there were soulmates, it was my Uncle Al and Aunt Yvonne. To all of us, it was as if they were fused into one soul-entwined incredibly caring entity – known as “Al and Yvonne.” In my life, they were my constant – my polestar – my compass bearing. They were a source of unconditional love and comfort. To me, although the physical composition has been forced to change, they will always be “Al and Yvonne” – because Al will live on in the most real of senses through Yvonne. She will remain the caretaker of his soul, because they have been spiritually attached for almost 6 decades now.

So, when my Uncle Al used the word “awesome” – it was with a full appreciation of the word’s power. It captured the reverence, the admiration and sometimes, the fear that comes with awe. He lived his life in an “awesome” manner, whether it be with his responsibilities, his faith, his love or his appreciation. He never slowed down. He gave everything he had to give. He infused all of us with his sense of “awe.”

My Dad

My Dad- Bill Hotchkiss

When things became dark early this week, I took a picture of my dad to watch over Al. The picture reflected the spirit they both shared – full of life, love and laughter. For my dad, he got to share this with Al for far too short a time. But Al also carried the spirit of my father and through him, I got to know my dad a little better. Late last night, my father was there as a guide when Al slipped from this world.

I know how Al will describe his new adventure. It will be “awesome.”

 

 

 

The Trouble with Trying to Stand on The Shoulders of Giants

Standing-on-GiantsIt has long been thought that academia provided a refuge from the sordid world of business. But when a Nobel prize-winning academic says that if he had to do it all over again, he wouldn’t publish, you know something is rotten in the state of Denmark. Laureate Peter Higgs (of Higgs-Boson fame) told the Guardian:

“Today I wouldn’t get an academic job. It’s as simple as that. I don’t think I would be regarded as productive enough.”

The whole point of publishing is to share knowledge. But academic publishers don’t seem to have received that memo. For the past two decades, publishers like Reed Elsevier, John Wiley and Springer, who got in on a good gig early, have propped up ridiculous profit margins by slowly squeezing non-profit publishers out of the picture. In the process, they’ve turned academic publishing into a hamster wheel that stresses quantity over quality. Most academic research is rushed out to a limited audience that has been designated as the ones who “count” and the rest of us have to pony up ridiculous sums to access an article that lies on the far side of a barricaded pay wall. Academic publishing is one of the few bastions that has managed to resist the digital tide of declining transaction costs.

I love academic research. I am a big believer in scientific inquiry. I am an avid reader of blogs like Science Daily and Big Think. But 9 times out of 10 (or 99 times out of a hundred), when you actually read an academic paper (if you can get your hands on one), it’s hopelessly mired in academic jargon and the actual findings fall disappointingly short of remarkable. What should be a reflection of the best of who we are has turned into a sordid little business run by shortsighted people who are only in it for a quick buck. If one of the pre-eminent physicists of our generation would rather become a used car salesman or worse yet, a marketer, than follow his passion, we know something is seriously wrong.

Google tried to remain true to the spirit of academic publishing when they introduced Google Scholar. I use Scholar a lot, and have found it very useful for accessing landmark papers from a few decades back that have managed to seep into the public domain. But if you use it to try to access more recent papers, you typically run headlong into one of the afore-mentioned pay walls. I tried to see how academics feel about Google Scholar and was amazed to find this quote from the McKinney Engineering Library blog at the University of Texas:

“Google Scholar has an ambiguous status in the library and research world. Obviously, it is powered by the Google, which is kind of a dirty word in academic research. Also, the fact that it is free throws further suspicion on its quality, particularly when libraries pay lots of money for database access.”

WTF? Forget for a moment that Google is referred to as “the Google” – which I hope is a joke aimed at fellow Texan George W. Bush. Since when should knowledge be judged by the size of its price tag? Stewart Brand identified the disconnect 30 years ago when he said,

“On the one hand information wants to be expensive, because it’s so valuable. The right information in the right place just changes your life. On the other hand, information wants to be free, because the cost of getting it out is getting lower and lower all the time. So you have these two fighting against each other.”

The rest of the world seems to have moved in the right direction. What the hell is the problem with academia?

If you’re not mad about this, you should be. The vast majority of academic research is funded directly by your tax dollars. Academic publishers don’t pay anyone for content. They have done nothing but agree to publish, which, in today’s world, costs virtually nothing. But somehow they still feel entitled to charge $50 to access an electronic version of an article. Reasonable profits are the right of an honest businessperson, but academic publishing doesn’t even come close to passing the “smell-test.”

One of the big Academic publishers, MacMillan, is at least considering loosening the drawstrings a touch. They’re lowering the drawbridge of their pay wall just a smidge by offering the ability to read and annotate articles on line. But academic publishing still has a long way to go before it approaches the accessibility that marks almost every other form of publishing in the digital world. So far for most researchers, the draw of being published in a prestigious journal has outweighed the idealism of openly publishing their work for all to see on a digital platform.

I suspect this is an area just waiting for disruption. I hope that the academics that are creating the content agree. It seems that academic publishing has been hiding in a previously overlooked nook that has escaped the relentless liberation of information driven by technology. But if MacMillan is feeling threatened enough to lower their defenses, however slightly, I suspect that the tide is beginning to turn. I, for one, thinks that day can’t come soon enough.

Farewell Search Insider. It’s Been Fun!

Note: This is my farewell column for MediaPost’s Search Insider.

476.

What’s significant about that number? Well, it’s a Harshad number. Math geeks can learn more here. For history buffs, it’s also the year in the Julian calendar when we switched from the Julian to the Anno Domini calendar. Generally, it’s when most historians say the Roman Empire fell and we went from ancient history to the Middle Ages.

It also happens to be the number of Search Insider columns I’ve written since my first appearance here 10 and a half years ago.

It’s been a good run. I’ve had fun. I’ve ranted the odd time. I’ve taken you with me on my family vacations. Most of all, I’ve had a ringside seat at the emergence of a true industry. In fact, that’s what my very first column was about – Search growing beyond the confines of a cottage industry into a real contender for ad budgets. Here’s how I ended that column:

Search will become much more sophisticated, and the price of entry to play the game may prove to be too expensive for many smaller providers. Alliances will form and total solutions will begin to emerge. Google and Yahoo! will have to address the huge amount of time and effort required to manage a large, sponsored search campaign. Real money will start to be invested and made.

And to think, one day I’ll be able to say I was there.

Well, I guess that day has arrived. In the next 5 years, according to Forrester, digital will surpass TV as the single biggest destination for marketing budgets and search will make up the lion’s share of that spend. Digital budgets combined are forecast to top $100 billion. I think that qualifies as “real money.”

But regular readers will also know that over the past 10 plus years, my columns have spent less and less time inside the “Search Insider” box. I’ve talked before about the artificiality of the way we’ve divided online up into channels. As our digital world has become richer and more robust, it’s become increasingly difficult to keep it compartmentalized into arbitrarily defined boxes. My personal interest has always centered on human behaviors and the rapidly growing intersection between behavior and technology. Search is part of that, but so is social and mobile and content and rich media and wearable technology and – well – you get the idea. Digital is a deeply and widely interwoven part of our lives. It makes up much of the context of our environment. Trying to talk only about one part of it would be like trying to describe the world by only writing about water.

At the end of 2014 (AD – just to keep our calendar references consistent), Ken Fadner, the publisher of MediaPost, asked me if I’d consider a move. I said yes. So this column – number 476 – will be my last one for the Search Insider. Starting next week, I’ll join the Online Spin lineup. It’s probably more appropriate. I haven’t been active in search marketing for the last 2 years. I’m hardly an “Insider” any more. I am, at best, a somewhat informed observer commenting from the sidelines. I think that can still be a useful perspective. I hope so. I will continue to write about the things that interest me: corporate strategy, human behavior, evolving cultures, digital technology – and yes, the odd rant.

So, for those of you who have been along for the ride for the last 10 and a half years, thanks for sticking around. When this ride started, there was no Facebook, no iPhone, no YouTube, no Twitter – and Google was just starting to figure out how to make some real money.

We’ve come a long way. But I suspect we’ve barely started. Maybe we’re even transitioning from one era to another. After all, it’s happened before when we’ve hit the number 476.

See you next Tuesday at Online Spin.

The Apple Watch – More Than Just a Pretty Face

wpid-iwatch-goldI just caught Tim Cook’s live streaming introduction of the Apple Watch (I guess they’ve given up the long running “i” naming theme). What struck me most is how arduously Apple has stuck with traditional touch points in introducing a totally new product category (well, new for Apple anyway).

If you glanced quickly across the room at someone wearing Apple’s new wonder, you probably wouldn’t even know they’re wearing technology. The Apple Watch looks a lot like an analog watch. There is even a Mickey Mouse face you can choose. The interchangeable bracelets smack of tradition. Jon Ive verified this point in the video that ran at the introduction, saying they borrowed heavily from the “watchmaker’s vocabulary” in the design process. They even consulted “horological experts from around the world” to provide a time keeping experience rooted in cultural nuance. The primary interface to the watch is a modified version of the very old fashioned watch-winding crown.

Now, appearances can be deceiving. As Cook, Ive and Kevin Lynch put the watch through its paces, it was clear that this is an impressive little piece of technology. Particular attention has been paid to making this an intimate device, with new advances in touch technology, biometric and motion sensors and the ability to personalize interfaces and hardware to make it uniquely yours. Watching, I couldn’t help but compare this to Google’s introduction of Google Glass. In many ways, Glass is the more revolutionary device. But the Apple Watch will have a much faster adoption path.

Google impresses first with sheer brute-force technological effort. Design is an afterthought. Google uses UI testing and design to try to corral a Pandora’s box full of raw innovation into a usable package. Apple takes a much different approach. They look first at the user experience and then they pick and choose the technologies required to deliver the intended experience. They lavish ridiculous amounts of time on seemingly miniscule design details but the end result is typically nothing less than breathtaking. We’re impressed with the technology, sure, but the overriding emotion is one of lust. We just have to have what ever the hell it is that is being introduced on the main stage of the Flint Center.

larrygiseleDespite the many who have said otherwise, including the late Steve Jobs, Apple has never really made a revolutionary device. Others have always been there first. What they have done, however, is taken raw innovation and packaged it in a way that resonates with its audience at a deep and hormonal level. Apple products are stylish and sexy – the Gisele Bündchen of technology – yet attainable to mere mortals. They take the “next big thing” and push them past the tipping point by kindling lust in the hearts and wallets of the market. Google products, despite their geeky technical prowess, have a nasty habit of getting stuck on the wrong side of the adoption curve. They are the – well, let’s face it – they are the Larry Page of technology – smart, but considerably less sexy.

Apple times entrance to the adoption curve to near perfection. They have a knack of positioning just ahead of the masses. Google’s target is much further down the road. They release betas well ahead of any market demand. That’s why most of us can’t wait to wear an Apple Watch, but wouldn’t be caught dead in a pair of Google Glass.

One last thought on this week’s introduction of the Apple Watch. Wearable technology is following an interesting path. Your smartphone now acts as a connected main base for more intimate pieces of tech like the Apple Watch or Google Glass. Increasingly, the actual user interfaces will be on these types of devices, but the heavy lifting will happen on a smart phone tucked into a pocket, purse or backpack. Expect specific purpose devices to proliferate, all connected to increasingly powerful MPUs (Mobile Processing Units) that will orchestrate the symphony of tech that you’re wearing.

The Era of Amplification

First published in Mediapost’s Search Insider, May 1, 2014

AmandaToddVideoMediapost columnist Joseph Jaffe wrote a great piece Tuesday on the Death of Anonymity. He shows how anonymity in the era of digital has become both a blessing and a curse, leading to an explosion of cowardly, bone-headed comments and cyber-bullying.  This reinforces something I’ve said repeated: technology doesn’t change human behavior; it just enables it in new ways. Heroes will find new ways to be heroes, and idiots will find new ways to be idiots.

But there is something important happening here. It’s not that technology is making us meaner, more cowardly or more stupid. I grew up with bullies, my father grew up with bullies and his father grew up with bullies. You could trace a direct line of bullies going back to the first time our ancestors walked erect, and probably further than that. So what’s different today? Why do we now need laws against cyber-bullying?

It’s because we now live in a time of increased amplification. The waves that spread from an individual’s actions go farther than ever before.  Technology increases the consequences of those actions.  A heroic act can spread through a network and activate other heroes, creating a groundswell of heroism. Unfortunately, the flip side is also true – bullying can begat more bullying. The viral spread of bullying that technology enables can make the situation hopeless for the victim.

Consider the case of Amanda Todd, a grade 10 student from Port Coquitlam, BC, Canada. Todd had been bullied for over a year by a guy who wanted “a show”. She finally relented and flashed her breasts. While not advisable, Todd’s actions were not that unusual. She wasn’t the first 15 year-old to experiment with a little sexual promiscuity after prolonged male pleading. It certainly shouldn’t have turned into a death sentence for Todd. But it did – because of amplification.

First of all, Todd’s tormentor was a man who lived thousands of miles away, in Holland. They never met. Secondly, Todd’s indiscretion was captured in a digital picture and was soon circulated worldwide. As teen-agers have been since time began, Todd was mercilessly teased. But it wasn’t just at the hands of a small circle of bullies at her high school. Taunts from around the world came from jerks who jumped on the bandwagon. A teen-ager’s psyche is typically a fragile thing, and the amplitude of that teasing was psychologically crushing for Todd. Desperate for escape, she first recorded a plea for understanding that she posted online, and then took her own life. The act that started all this should have been added to that pile of minor regrets we all assemble in our adolescence. It should not have ended the way it did. Unfortunately, Todd was a victim of amplification.

My wife and I have two daughters, one of which is about the same age as Todd. Because they grew up in the era of Amplification, we pounded home the fact that anything captured online can end up anywhere. You just can’t be careless, not even for the briefest of moments. But, of course, teenagers are occasionally careless. It’s part of the job description. They’re testing the world as a place to live in – experimenting with what it means to be an adult –  and mistakes are inevitable. Unfortunately, the potential price to be paid for those mistakes has been raised astronomically.

Here’s perhaps the most frightening thing about this. Todd’s Youtube video has been seen over 17 million times, so it too has been amplified by technology. Amanda’s story has spread through the world online. The vast majority of comments are those you would hope to see – expressions of sympathy, support, understanding and caring. But there are a handful of hateful comments of the sort that drove Todd to suicide. Technology allows us to sort and filter for negativity. In other words, technology allows bullies to connect to bullies.

In social networks, there is something called “threshold-limited spreading.” Essentially, it means that for something to spread through a network, the number of incidences needs to reach a certain threshold. In the case of bullying, as in the case of rioting or social movements, the threshold depends on the connections between like-minded individuals. If bullies can connect in a cluster, they draw courage from each other. This can then trigger a cascade effect, encouraging those “on the margin” to also engage in bullying. Technology, because of its unique ability to enable connections between those who think alike, can trigger these cascades of bullying. It doesn’t matter if the ratio of positive to negative is ten to one or even one hundred to one. All that matters is there are a sufficient number of negative comments for the would-be bully to feel that he or she has support.

I don’t know what the lasting impact of the Era of Amplification will be.  I do know that Technology has made the world a much more promising place than it was when I was born. I also know it’s made it much crueler and more frightening.  And it’s not because of any changes in who we are. It’s because the ripples of our actions now can spread further than we can even imagine.

Today, Spend Some Time in Quadrant Two

First published April 17, 2014 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

Last week, I ranted, and it was therapeutic — for me, at least. Some of you agreed that the social media landscape was littered with meaningless crap. Others urged me to “loosen up and take a chill pill,” intimating that I had slipped across the threshold of “grumpy old man-itis.” Guilty, I guess, but there was a point to my rant. We need to spend more time with important stuff, and less time with content that may be popular but trivial.

Hey, I’m the first to admit that I can be tempted into wasting gobs of time with a tweet like: “Prom season sizzles with KFC chicken corsages.” This is courtesy of Guy Kawasaki. Guy’s Twitter feed is a fire hose of enticing trivia. And the man (with the team that supports him) does have a knack of writing tweets with irresistible hooks. Come on. Who could resist checking out a fried chicken corsage?

But here’s the problem. Online is littered with fried chicken corsages. No matter where we turn, we’re bombarded by these tasty little tidbits of brain candy. Publishers have grown quite adept at stringing these together, leading us from trivial link to trivial link. Personally, I’m a sucker for Top Ten lists. But after succumbing to the temptation for “just a second” I find myself, 20 minutes later, having accomplished nothing other than learning what the 10 Biggest Reality Show Blunders were, or where the 10 Most Extravagant Homes in the U.S. happen to be.

Entertaining? Absolutely.

Useful? Doubtful.

Important?  Not a chance.

merrillcoveymatrixWe need to set aside time for important stuff. A few decades ago, I happened to read Stephen Covey’s “First Things First,” which introduced a concept I still try to live by to this day. Covey called it the Urgent/Important matrix. It’s a simple two-by-two matrix with four quadrants:

1 – Urgent and Important – for example, a fire in your kitchen.

2 – Not Urgent but Important – long-term planning.

3 – Urgent but Not Important – interruptions.

4 – Not Important and Not Urgent – time-wasters.

Covey’s Advice? Better balance your time in these quadrants. Quadrant One takes care of itself. We can’t ignore these types of crises. But we should try to minimize the distractions that fall into Quadrant Three and cut down the time we spend in Quadrant Four. Then, we should move as much of this freed-up time as possible into Quadrant Two.

Covey’s Quadrants are more applicable than ever to the online world.  I suspect most of us spend the majority of time in the online equivalents of Quadrant Three (responding to emails or other instant forms of messaging that aren’t really important) or Quadrant Four (online time wasters). We probably don’t spend much time in Quadrant Two (which I’ll abbreviate it to Q2). In fact, in writing this column, I tried to find a quick guide to finding important stuff online. I have a few places I like to go, which I’ll share in a moment, but despite the vast potential of online as a Q2 resource, it doesn’t seem that anyone is it making it easy to filter for “importance.” As I said in my last column, we have filters for popularity and recency, but I couldn’t find anything helping me track down Q2 candidates.

So, here is my contribution to helping you set aside more quality Q2 time:

Amazon Kindle and DevonThink: Reading thought-provoking books is my favorite Q2 activity.  I try to set aside at least an hour a day to read. Anytime someone suggests a book or I find one referenced, I download immediately it from Kindle and add it to the queue. Then, as I read, I use Kindle’s highlight feature to create a summary of the important ideas. After, I copy my highlighted notes into DevonThink, a tool that helps track and archive notes and resources for future reference.

Scientific American & Science Daily: I’m a science geek. I love learning about the latest advances — in particular, new discoveries in the areas of psychology and neuroscience. When I find an interesting article, I again save it to DevonThink.

Google Scholar and Questia: Every so often, I dive into the world of academia to find research done in a particular area, usually related to a blog post or column idea. Google Scholar usually unearths a number of publicly available papers on most topics. And, if you share my predilection for academic research, a subscription to Questia is worth considering.

Big Think, weforum.org and TED: Looking for big ideas — world-changing stuff? These three sites are the place to find them.

HBR, Wired, The Atlantic and The Economist: Another favorite topic of mine is corporate strategy — particularly how organizations have to adapt to a rapidly evolving environment. I find sites like these great for giving me a sense of what’s happening in the world of business.

Hey, it may not be a fried chicken corsage, but these aren’t bad ways to spend an hour or two a day.

 

#Meaningless #Crap

First published April 10, 2014 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

hashtagEverybody should have a voice – I get that. Thank goodness that the web and social media have democratized publication. Because of that, the power to say what’s on our mind is just a click away. From this power, great things have and will continue to come – the overthrow of tyrants, the quest for truth, freedom from oppression. I’m pretty sure those are all good things. Important things.

But I’m also pretty sure the signal to noise ratio in social media content is infinitesimal – verging on undetectable. For every post that moves humanity incrementally forward, there are thousands that drive us over the brink into mind numbing mediocrity.

For example, Justin Bieber has 51 million followers, and has tweeted 26,508 times. That, in case you’re wondering, has produced 1.35 trillion “Bieberisms,” or 193 little Bieber-tweets for every man, woman and child on planet Earth. Here’s one of his finest: “Put your heart into everything you do”. Perhaps the Biebs would be better served by using his head a little bit too. But no matter, he tweets on, sharing his special brand of wisdom. No wonder over 70% of all tweets never get read.

And, for God’s sake – stop hashtagging everything! First of all, it only belongs on Twitter and Instagram. It’s not a universal punctuation mark. And it doesn’t belong in front of every word of your post! If you’re writing about something that falls under a topic category that people actually care about – then by all means slip a hashtag in there. For example:

“Witnessing special forces retaking capital building in Kiev – #ukrainecrisis”

Or:

“Just discovered key gene in early detection of Alzheimer’s – #alzheimerresearch”

See how it works? You’re adding key content to a topic that people care about and may actually be searching for on Twitter. This is how not to use hashtags:

“Off to a funeral #selfie #zebra #sunglasses #bling #hairdown #polo #countrygirl #aero #dodge #ram #cute”

All I can say is #shoot #me.

The other problem is that with this diarrheic explosion of content flooding online, it becomes impossible to sift through all of it to find things that are truly important. Generally, most content filters use one of two criteria – recency or popularity. Recency is fine if you’re looking for breaking news. It’s a clearly understood parameter. Popularity, however, has some issues. The theory here is that the wisdom of crowds can be relied on to push the best content to the top. But that’s not really how the wisdom of crowds works. Just because something is popular doesn’t necessarily mean it’s good. And it certainly doesn’t mean it’s important. All too often, it just means that it panders to the lowest common denominator. Do we really want that to be our filtering criteria? Should Kanye West and Keeping Up with the Kardashians mark our cultural high water mark?

One last rant. “Epic” is not the right adjective to apply to concert tickets, Saturday nights at the club, bowls of chili or, when incorrectly combined with the verb “fail”, your company’s Christmas party. According to this post,

“the word epic should only be used to describe two or three things, ever. In fact, here’s a comprehensive list of all things epic: 1. Oceans 2. Lengthy Narratives 3. The Cosmos.”

That’s it.

Feel free to retweet if you wish. Or not. No one will read it anyway.

Who Owns Your Data (and Who Should?)

First published January 23, 2104 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

Lock backgroundLast week, I talked about a backlash to wearable technology. Simon Jones, in his comment, pointed to a recent post where he raised the very pertinent point – your personal data has value. Today, I’d like to explore this further.

I think we’re all on the same page when we say there is a tidal wave of data that will be created in the coming decade. We use apps – which create data. We use/wear various connected personal devices – which create data. We go to online destinations – which create data. We interact with an ever-increasing number of wired “things” – which create data. We interact socially through digital channels – which create data.  We entertain ourselves with online content – which creates data. We visit a doctor and have some tests done – which creates data. We buy things, both online and off, and these actions also create data. Pretty much anything we do now, wherever we do it, leaves a data trail. And some of that data, indeed, much of it, can be intensely personal.

As I said some weeks ago, all this data is creating a eco-system that is rapidly multiplying and, in its current state, is incredibly fractured and chaotic. But, as Simon Jones rightly points out, there is significant value in that data. Marketers will pay handsomely to have access to it.

But what, or whom, will bring order to this chaotic and emerging market? The value of the data compounds quickly when it’s aggregated, filtered, cross-tabulated for correlations and then analyzed. As I said before, the captured data is its fragmented state is akin to a natural resource. To get to a more usable end state, you need to add a value layer on top of it. This value layer will provide the required additional steps to extract the full worth of that data.

So, to retrace my logic, data has value, even in it’s raw state. Data also has significant privacy implications. And right now, it’s not really clear who owns what data. To move forward into a data market that we can live with, I think we need to set some basic ground rules.

First of all, most of us who are generating data have implicitly agreed to a quid pro quo arrangement – we’ll let you collect data from us if we get an acceptable exchange of something we value. This could be functionality, monetary compensation (usually in the form of discounts and rewards), social connections or entertainment. But here’s the thing about that arrangement – up to now, we really haven’t quantified the value of our personal data. And I think it’s time we did that. We may be trading away too much for much too little.

To this point we haven’t worried much about what we traded off and to whom because any data trails we left have been so fragmented and specific to one context, But, as that data gains more depth and, more importantly, as it combines with other fragments to provide much more information about who we are, what we do, where we go, who we connect with, what we value and how we think, it becomes more and more valuable. It represents an asset for those marketers who want to persuade us, but more critically, that data -our digital DNA – becomes vitally important to us. In it lays the quantifiable footprint of our lives and, like all data, it can yield insights we may never gain elsewhere. In the right hands, it could pinpoint critical weaknesses in our behavioral patterns, red flags in our lifestyle that could develop into future health crises, financial opportunities and traps and ways to allocate time and resources more efficiently. As the digitally connected world becomes denser, deeper and more functional, that data profile will act as our key to it. All the potential of a new fully wired world will rely on our data.

There are millions of corporations that are more than happy to warehouse their respective data profiles of you and sell it back to you on demand as you need it to access their services or tools.  They will also be happy to sell it to anyone else who may need it for their own purposes. Privacy issues aside (at this point, data is commonly aggregated and anonymized) a more fundamental question remains – whose data is this? Whose data should it be? Is this the reward they reap for harvesting the data? Or because this represents you, should it remain your property, with you deciding who uses it and for what?

This represents a slippery slope we may already be starting down.  And, if you believe this is your data and should remain so, it also marks a significant change from what’s currently happening. Remember, the value is not really in the fragments. It’s in bringing it together to create a picture of who you are. And we should be asking the question – who should have the right to create that picture of you – you – or a corporate data marketplace that exists beyond your control ?