Category Archives: Rants

Every so often I have to blow off steam. These are the results

#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.

Now, That’s a Job Description I Could Get Behind!

First published February 20, 2014 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

I couldn’t help but notice that last week’s column, where I railed against the marketer’s obsession with tricks, loopholes and pat sound bites got a fair number of retweets. The irony? At least a third of those retweets twisted my whole point – that six seconds (or any arbitrary length of message) isn’t the secret to getting a prospect engaged. The secret is giving them something they want to engage with.

tweet ss

As anyone who has been unfortunate to spend some time with me when I’m in particularly cynical mood about marketing can attest to, I go a little nuts with this “Top Ten Tricks” or “The Secret to…” mentality that seems pervasive in marketing. I’m pretty sure that anyone who retweeted last week’s column with a preface like “Does your advertising engage your consumer in 6 seconds or less? If not, you’re likely losing customers” didn’t bother to actually read past the first paragraph. Maybe not even the first line.

And that’s the whole problem. How can we expect marketers to build empathy, usefulness and relevance into their strategy when many of them have the attention span of a small gnat? As my friend Scott Brinker likes to say when it comes to marketer’s misbehaving, “This is why we can’t have nice things.”

Marketing – good marketing – is not easy but it’s also not a black box. It’s not about secrets or tricks or one-off tactics. It’s about really understanding your customers at an incredibly deep level and then working your ass off to create a meaningful engagement with them. Trying to reduce marketing to anything less than that is like trying to breeze your way through 50 years of marriage by following the Top 3 Tricks to get lucky this Friday night.

Again, this is about meaningful engagements. And when I say meaningful, it’s the customer that gets to decide what’s meaningful. That’s what’s potentially so exciting about breakthroughs like the Oreo Super Bowl campaign. It’s the opportunity to learn what’s meaningful to prospects and then to shift and tailor our responses in real time. Until now, marketing has been “Plan, Push and Pray.” We plan our attack, we push out our message and we pray it finds it’s target and that they respond by buying stuff. If they don’t buy stuff, something went wrong, probably in the planning stage. But that is an awfully long feedback loop.

You’ll notice something about this approach to marketing. The only role for the prospect is as a consumer. If they don’t buy, they don’t participate.  This comes as a direct result of the current job description of a marketer: Someone who gets someone else to buy stuff. But what if we rethink that description? Technology that enables real time feedback is allowing us to create an entirely new relationship with customers. What would happen if we redefined marketing along these lines: To understand the customer’s reality, focusing on those areas where we can solve their problems and improve that reality?

And as much as that sounds like a pat sound bite, if you really dig into it, it’s far from a quick fix. This is a way to make a radically different organization. And it moves marketing into a fundamentally different role. Previously, marketing got its marching orders from the CEO and CFO. Essentially, they were responsible for moving the top line ever northward. It was an internally generated mandate – to increase sales.

But what if we rethink this? What if the entire organization’s role is to constantly adapt to a dynamic environment, looking for advantageous opportunities to improve that environment? And, in this redefined vision, what if marketing’s role was to become the sense-making interface of the company? What if it was the CMO’s job was to consistently monitor the environment, create hypotheses about how to best create adaptive opportunities and then test those hypotheses in a scientific manner?

In this redefinition of the job, Big Data and Real Time Marketing take on significantly new qualities, first as a rich vein of timely information about the marketplace and secondly as a never ending series of instant field experiments to provide empirical backing to strategy.

Now, marketing’s job isn’t to sell stuff, it’s to make sense of the market and, in doing so, help define the overall strategic direction of the company. There are no short cuts, no top ten tricks, but isn’t that one hell of a job description?

Never Underestimate the Human Ability to Ignore Data

First published January 30, 2014 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

ignore_factsIt’s one thing to have data. It’s another to pay attention to it.

We marketers are stumbling over ourselves to move to data-driven marketing. No one would say that’s a bad thing. But here’s the catch in that. Data driven marketing is all well and good when it’s a small stakes game – optimizing spend, targeting, conversion rates, etc. If we gain a point or two on the topside, so much the better. And if we screw up and lose a point or two – well – mistakes happen and as long as we fix it quickly, no permanent harm done.

But what if the data is telling us something we don’t want to know? I mean – something we really don’t want to know. For instance, our brand messaging is complete BS in the eyes of our target market, or they feel our products suck, or our primary revenue source appears to be drying up or our entire strategic direction looks to be heading over a cliff? What then?

This reminds me of a certain CMO of my acquaintance who was a “Numbers Guy.” In actual fact, he was a numbers guy only if the numbers said what he wanted them to say. If not, then he’d ask for a different set of numbers that confirmed his view of the world. This data hypocrisy generated a tremendous amount of bogus activity in his team, as they ran around grabbing numbers out of the air and massaging them to keep their boss happy. I call this quantifiable bullshit.

I think this is why data tends to be used to optimize tactics, but why it’s much more difficult to use data to inform strategy. The stakes are much higher and even if the data is providing clear predictive signals, it may be predicting a future we’d rather not accept. Then we fall back on our default human defense: ignore, ignore, ignore.

Let me give you an example. Any human who functions even slightly above the level of brain dead has to accept the data that says our climate is changing. The signals couldn’t be clearer. And if we choose to pay attention to the data, the future looks pretty damn scary. Best-case scenario – we’re probably screwing up the planet for our children and grand children. Worst-case scenario – we’re definitely screwing up the planet and it will happen in our lifetime. And we’re not talking about an increased risk of sunburn. We’re talking about the potential end of our species. So what do we do? We ignore it. Even when flooding, drought and ice storms without historic precedent are happening in our back yards. Even when Atlanta is paralyzed by a freak winter storm. Nothing about what is happening is good news, and it’s going to get worse. So, damn the data, let’s just look the other way.

In a recent poll by the Wall Street Journal, out of a list of 15 things that Americans believed should be top priorities for President Obama and Congress, climate change came out dead last – behind pension reform, Iran’s nuclear program and immigration legislation. Yet, if we look at the data that the UN and the World Economic Forum collects, quantifying the biggest threats to our existence, climate change is consistently near the top, both in terms of likelihood and impact. But, it’s really hard to do something about it. It’s a story we don’t want to hear, so we just ignore the data, like the afore-said CMO.

As we get access to more and more data, it will be harder and harder to remain uninformed, but I suspect it will have little impact on our ability to be ignorant. If we don’t know something, we don’t know it. But if we can know something, and we choose not to, that’s a completely different matter. That’s embracing ignorance. And that’s dangerous. In fact, it could be deadly.

Maybe We Need More Skin in the Game

First published August 15, 2013 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

I think our world, — or, more specifically, our marketplace — is a little too abstract. We — and by we, I mean the marketers, the suppliers to the market — live too far removed from the market itself: the consumers of the supplied goods.

It’s a point touched on by Nassim Nicholas Taleb in his most recent book, “Antifragile.” Marketers and manufacturers, he suggests, don’t have enough skin in the game to keep them honest. They’re too far removed from accountability. There are too many protective buffers between them and the consequences of their actions.

The law is supposed to provide the accountability — but let’s face it, when it comes to enforcing accountability in the marketplace, we’re a long way from the Code of Hammurabi (one of the first legal codes known), where sloppy workmanship enacted a pretty definite penalty: If a builder has built a house for a man, and has not made his work sound, and the house he built has fallen, and caused the death of its owner, that builder shall be put to death.

Or, consider if the actions of the captain of the Exxon Valdez would have been different if he would have been answerable to a law like this: If a man has hired a boat and boatman, and loaded it with corn, wool, oil, or dates, or whatever it be, and the boatman has been careless, and sunk the boat, or lost what is in it, the boatman shall restore the boat which he sank, and whatever he lost that was in it.

The world was a smaller and more intimate place back then. You couldn’t hide behind corporate lawyers, malpractice insurance and legal loopholes. If you screwed up, chances are you’d lose an eye, a hand or even your life. If you built a bridge that collapsed, you might as well have been under the bridge, because your fate would be the same.

Now, I’m not sure we’re ready to return to the brutal simplicity of an “eye for an eye” legal code, but it does bring up a rather thorny issue: If there are little to no consequences for shoddy or unethical work, what keeps us honest? There’s nothing like skin in the game to provide some pretty compelling motivation for ethical business practices. And there’s nothing like a consequence-free pass to encourage fast and loose corporate behavior.

The good news, I suppose, is that technology is once again making the world a little more intimate. McLuhan’s Global Village is coming to pass, and the unethical of the world are increasingly being held accountable for their actions. In fact, the speed at which this is happening is confounding the legal systems of many a nation, as vigilantism and frontier justice are increasingly springing up, unchecked by due process and judicial oversight.

I avoid trying to predict the future, but fairness and accountability are hardwired into us, so I suspect that as technology allows us to identify those responsible in the most egregious cases, we will be moved to demand action. We will force the market to have more skin in the game, as our opinions and beliefs, in aggregate, will define that market.

The No BS Rule

First published in Mediapost’s Search Insider – April 18, 2013

I have wasted a significant portion of my life dealing with BS. Mea culpa. I decided to become a marketer and it just comes with the territory. But here’s the thing. Maybe it’s cause I’m older, maybe it’s because I’m just getting grumpier, but I’m getting less and less tolerant of BS.

After one particular day when the scent of BS hung heavy in the air, I wondered, why? Why do we have to put up with BS anyway?  What would my job be like sans-BS? Trust me, it’s a liberating mental exercise. Try it.

How often, each and every day, do you have to exert extra effort, take on extra tasks, send extra emails, or have extra meetings, just because of BS? And here’s the thing: none of this extra work is productive. Zero. Zilch. It’s all just spinning our wheels, trying to move forward and get over the mound of BS in our way. In fact, in most cases, BS puts us in reverse. We lose ground because of it. I have no empirical evidence on this, but I suspect that a workplace would be at least 10 times more efficient and effective without BS.

In 2004 Bob Sutton had an epiphany when he wrote the original No Asshole Rule in the Harvest Business Review. He posed a bold question: What could a workplace be like without assholes? I pose a follow-up question: How much more productive could we be if we eliminated BS?

I’m not sure if it’s a hard and fast rule, but it seems that the degree of BS corresponds directly to the size of the company. Many small start-ups have little to no operational BS (depending on the personalities involved). In huge companies, BS is the operational norm. I think BS is naturally present in any random group of people, but at some point in a company’s growth curve, BS seems to move from being an irritation to be eradicated to being a foundational rule of engagement. BS begets BS.

All BS is not the same. Some varieties are more toxic than other. Here are some of the common types I’ve encountered.

Cover-My-Butt BS: “I screwed up and I don’t want to admit it” 

This is one of the most common varieties of BS. Tremendous amounts of corporate effort are expending covering collective butts.  Look, if you suck on a consistent basis, I should be able to say you suck. Even if you’re my boss.

Incompetence is poison for an organization. And, if I am competent but still screwed up, I should be in an environment where I’m not afraid of being crucified for my mistake. Everyone screws up.  Screwing up and incompetence is not necessarily the same thing. Risk-takers, visionaries and leaders have learned the importance of developing a disciplined approach to screwing up.

Stop using BS to cover incompetence. It sucks the energy out of any organization.

I’m Smarter/Bigger/More Powerful Than You BS

This type of BS is particularly nefarious, because it strikes at the upper levels of the organization. Executives generate huge clouds of intentional BS waging turf wars to establish corporate lines of power. Egos and BS are positively correlated in the workplace. The dangerous thing about this is that generally the executive making the call is so far removed from the situation that she has no perspective on it. But that doesn’t stop the BS. You might as well have two rams butting it out head to head in the boardroom. It’s just as productive and a lot more thrilling to watch.

This strain of BS can stop corporate strategy in its tracks. It usually comes disguised as mission statements, vision statements, core values or other BS-laden documents that have zero relevance to the real world. Don’t get me wrong — I’m a big believer in true corporate strategy, but 99% of what passes for this is pure BS.  It accomplishes nothing.

Throw it out and start over with something real.

I Hate Change/I Don’t Want To Do This BS

The final type of BS is more common on the front lines.  The cause is simple. We just don’t want to do something. So we create a BS screen to hide the real reason why we don’t want to do it. This is usually tied to one of the two previous types of BS. Either we’re lazy and/or incompetent and don’t want to do the thing (see Cover My Butt BS) or a boss is forcing us to do something stupid (I’m Smarter/Bigger/More Powerful than You BS). Either way, the natural reaction is to start BSing.

I believe we should all start actively seeking out BS and calling people on it. It shouldn’t be tolerated in the workplace. And I realize that it’s human nature. You can’t change human nature, right? Well, having sex is pretty natural too, and we don’t tolerate open orgies in the workplace.

It’s all a matter of choice and agreement. Let’s at least have the discussion. I believe it’s one worth having.

Don’t Use Technology as an Excuse for Bad Customer Service

First published April 11, 2013 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

We all have our horror stories about online customer service. Just in the past two weeks, I added two more to my collection.

After placing an online order with Costco, I’ve had to wait (at this point) a week after the promised delivery date to get the stuff I bought and paid for. Three separate attempts to contact the shipper have been unsuccessful – the first two were simply ignored and the last one resulted in the shifting of blame to the local agent, who was supposed to call me to resolve the issue. That was 48 hours ago, and still no call. I suppose I could invest more of my time to harass them until they actually respond, but frankly, at this point, I just want to wash my hands of the whole transaction.

With the other example, the damage was done before I ever made the purchase, thank heavens. I was planning a trip using Kayak and sorted my booking options according to price. There, in the same format as the search results, was an ad from a well-known travel brand. I assumed the ad would offer me a rate that was comparable to the other results above and below it. After all, I had sorted by rate, so position should equate to price.  In fact, the ad offered a lower rate than the search result immediately above it. The ad worked – kind of. I did click it, only to find the promised offer evaporated and my actual rate was four times the price of the competitor. I quickly clicked back to Kayak to book with one of the competitors, having learned to ignore any further ads from this particular company.

Here’s the troubling thing. Most of you will say, “So what?” These two stories are not that unusual. We’ve come to accept this level of service online as the norm. The online market place is SNAFU – in it ‘s most literal sense. My question is, why? Why do sellers feel they can get away with this, and, what’s more important, why do we, the customer, accept it as the new normal?

Here’s my hypothesis. We accept it because we can’t look the offending party in the eye. They do it because they don’t have to answer for it face to face. Anonymity and arm’s length transactions prevent crappy business-people and their practices from being held accountable.

We humans have a long list of subtle and not so subtle things we can do to ensure fairness in transactions – but they all evolved to work face to face. Over our history, we have evolved many social “governors” that play on our emotions. In general, they work pretty well, as long as we’re all in the same room, tent, hut, tribal circle or canoe. But these governors, 10 thousand generations in the making, are being rendered ineffective by technology in the space of just one generation. We’re hiding behind a computer screen because we can.

I’m sure the customer service agent at the courier company would think twice about promising me a shipment on a certain day – a promise she had no intention of keeping – if she was making that promise to my face and she knew I’d be back the day after the parcel failed to show up.

And I find it hard to imagine that a hotel, airline or car rental firm would offer me a rate that was totally fictitious if they knew the actual cost was going to be three or four times what they offered. At least, I find it hard to imagine they’d do that if I was standing across the counter from them at the time.

So why, I ask again, do we settle for less in our arm’s length transactions? I believe every online company should use the BIP rule of thumb – do business as if you’re doing Business In Person. Assume you’re looking at the person you’re dealing with in the eye. Treat them as if they’re your next-door neighbor. Before you screw them over, assume you’ll have to say “Good morning” every day as you hop in your car and go to work.

You have a conscience for a reason – use it for what it was intended for.

The Social Media Menagerie

First published January 17, 2013 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

Did you know there are 18,903 social media gurus on Twitter? I haven’t the faintest idea what the prerequisites are for becoming a “guru,” but apparently thousands of people have passed the hypothetical “bar.” As a baseline, the original Sanskrit meaning of “guru” meant “teacher” or “master.” Fair enough, I suppose. It seems fairly benign. But the way many use the term, I think Wikipedia’s definition might be more fitting:  “In the United States, the meaning of ‘guru’ has been used to cover anyone who acquires followers, especially by exploiting their naiveté.”

To be fair, I have had the label applied to myself by others in certain contexts. But I have never used it to refer to myself. To me, it just smacks of a king-sized stroking of one’s own ego. What the hell makes you a guru? Did you take a test? Study under a true “master”? Lock yourself away in solitude to consider the intricacies of Facebook or Twitter? Was there a vote of a “guru” nominating committee that conferred the title on you? Did the god of social media anoint you? Or did you just sign up for a Twitter account and suddenly decide you were ready to go into the consulting biz?

I’m sure some of the 18,903 actually know what they’re doing. But I’m betting there are just as many that you should fend off with the proverbial 10-foot pole. Let’s face it: if you need to call yourself a guru to justify your self-worth, there may be other inadequacies in your own personal inventory.

To me, true masters always refers to themselves as students. They know they don’t know everything, but they’re always ready to learn. They open themselves up to constantly growing by doing. They know the value of “screwing up.” They realize that this is an area that is just defining itself, and to believe you have it mastered is the height of presumption. Give me one social media “student” over 18,903 “gurus” any day.

Of course, “guru” is not the only moniker appropriated in the Twittersphere – there are also 21,928 social media “mavens” and 21,876 “ninjas.” For some reason, I don’t take the same offence to these terms. In Yiddish, a “maven” is “one who understands, based on an accumulation of knowledge.”  And a “ninja” is a “covert agent or mercenary who specialized in unorthodox warfare.” The former seems to be a little less self-aggrandizing, and the latter is just stupid. Let the mavens keep learning, and let the ninjas battle each other to the death in some type of social media grudge match. I presume they use Twitter throwing stars and Linked In nunchucks.

Apparently, to consult in social media requires some kind of “out-there” title. There are only 9,031 social media “consultants”, 5,555 social media “experts” and 1,555 social media “marketers”. But there are 287 “freaks,” 104 “warriors,” and 35 “wonks.” I was also heartened to find that there are 174 social media “whores.” Now, there’s a title you can relate to.

Look, I get that you need to “stand out” — but if there are 20,000 other people calling themselves the same thing, how much are you really standing out?

Climbing the Slippery Slopes of Mount White Hat

First published August 30, 2012 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

On Monday of this week, fellow Search Insider Ryan DeShazer bravely threw his hat back in the ring regarding this question: Is Google better or worse off because of SEO?

DeShazer confessed to being vilified after a previous column indicated that Google owed us something. I admit I have a column penned but never submitted that Ryan could have added to the “vilify” side of that particular tally. But in his Monday column, Ryan touches on a very relevant point: “What is the thin line between White Hat and Black Hat SEO?” For as long as I’ve been in this industry (which is pushing 17 years now) I’ve heard that same debate. I’ve been at conference sessions where white hats and black hats went head to head on the question. It’s one of those discussions that most sane people in the world could care less about, but we in the search biz can’t seem to let go.

Ryan stirs the pot again by indicating that Google may be working on an SEO “Penalty Box”: a temporary holding pen for sites that are using “rank modifying spammers” where results will fluctuate more than in the standard index. The high degree of flux should lead to further modifications by the “spammers” that will help Google identify them and theoretically penalize them. DeShazer’s concern is the use of the word “spammers” in the wording of the patent application, which seems to include any “webmasters who attempt to modify their search engine ranking.”

I personally think it’s dangerous to try to apply wording used in a patent application (the source for this speculation) arbitrarily against what will become a business practice. Wording in a patent is intended to help convey the concept of the intellectual property as quickly and concisely as possible to a patent review bureaucrat. The wording deals in concepts that are (ironically) pretty black and white. It has little to no relationship to how that IP will be used in the real world, which tends to be colored in various shades of gray. But let’s put that aside for a moment.

Alan Perkins, an SEO I would call vociferously “white hat,” some years ago came up with what I believe is the quintessential difference here. Black hats optimize for a search engine. White hats optimize for humans.  When I make site recommendations, they are to help people find better content faster and act on it. I believe, along with Perkins, that this approach will also do good things for your search visibility.

But that also runs the danger of being an oversimplification. The picture is muddied by clients who measure our success as SEO agencies by their position relative to their competitors on a keyword-by-keyword level. This is the bed the SEO industry has built for itself, and now we’re forced to sleep in it. I’m as guilty as the next guy of cranking out competitive ranking reports, which have conditioned this behavior over the past decade and a half.

The big problem, and one continually pointed out by vocal grey/black hats, is that you can’t keep up with competition who are using methods more black than white by staying with white-hat tactics alone. The fact is, black hat works, for a while. And if I’m the snow-white SEO practitioner whose clients are repeatedly trounced by those using a black hat consultant, I’d better expect some client churn. Ethics and profitably don’t always go together in this industry.

To be honest, over the past five years, I’ve largely stopped worrying about the whole white hat/black hat thing. We’ve lost some clients because we weren’t aggressive enough, but the ones who stayed were largely untouched by the string of recent Google updates targeting spammers. Most benefited from the house cleaning of the index. I’ve also spent the last five years focused a lot more on people and good experiences than on algorithms and link juice, or whatever the SEO flavor du jour is.

I think Alan Perkins nailed it way back in 2007. Optimize for humans. Aim for the long haul. And try to be ethical. Follow those principles, and I find it hard to imagine that Google would ever tag you with the label of “spammer.”

Ramblings of a Feverish Mind

First published February 16, 2012 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

I’ve had the flu for going on a week now. My head hurts and my tongue feels like a terrycloth towel. My voice sounds like a cross between Satan and a barking seal. Any lucid thoughts I may have had have long been beaten into submission by repeated doses of NyQuil. And now I have a column to write.

What strikes me the most about my current state of mind is how little tolerance I have for the stuff that normally makes up my life.  The saying “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff” must have an illness-triggered corollary: “Fever-induced sweat seems to wash away all the little crap.” Before I got sick, I had a mountain of stuff that was all vitally important. Then I lost two-and-a-half days because I simply couldn’t raise my head from my pillow. Something had to give. Actually, several things had to give. And you know what? The world didn’t end. Life went on.

It’s a revelation of much less significance than Steve Job’s more eloquent version in his 2005 Stanford commencement speech: “Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life.” But you get the gist. We fill up our lives with little crap, and it drowns out the significant stuff we should be focused on. Steven Covey calls them our “rocks.” But why do we need something like a death sentence or being waylaid by a particularly virulent flu virus to remember it? Why can’t we keep focused on the big stuff every day of our lives?

The ironic thing is that most of the stuff we do in a day, we do for others, not ourselves. We don’t want to drop the ball, leave someone hanging or let something fall between the cracks. Delivering on these multiple imperatives is the price we pay for being social animals. We want to keep the acceptance of the herd, so we’re hardwired to make other’s priorities our priorities. And, in the process, we keep shuffling the stuff that’s truly important to us to the back shelf. The only way to avoid molding your life around someone else’s priorities is to be a narcissistic jerk — like Mr. Jobs, or yours truly when spiking a fever.

This got me to wondering. Don’t these selfsame jerks have a natural advantage over the rest of us “nice guys”? The fact that they don’t care about other’s priorities and naturally advance their own agendas, expecting others to adopt them as their own, seems to indicate that they’ll actually get the stuff done they care about.

After three decades in the business world, I’ve come to the sad and wearied conclusion that to be wildly successful in business, you have to be an asshole. Nice guys may not always finish last, but they seldom take home the gold.  The most successful CEOs typically have a Machiavellian side, ideally buffered by some social skills.

By next week the flu will be gone, I hope. But part of me is also hoping that the forced perspective it gave me lingers a bit longer.  Maybe a little flu-induced “dickishness” wouldn’t be a bad thing the carry through 2012 and beyond.

The Challenge of Social

First published December 1, 2011 in Mediapost’s Search Insider

Every quarter, I fill out an online survey about digital marketing trends. One question always shows up: “Are you looking at social as a replacement for search in your online marketing strategy?” I always answer no, and to myself, comment that it’s a stupid question asked by someone who obviously doesn’t know much about online marketing. But now I wonder  — is it really such a stupid question? Aren’t many experienced marketers asking themselves exactly the same question?

The Social Graph (or Network, or whatever you want to call it) should be the single biggest opportunity in marketing history. But marketers are stubbing their toes by the millions in trying to step over the threshold into the golden glow of the online social party. It seems it’s incredibly difficult to figure out.

Search, on the other hand, was easily pigeonholed as a direct-marketing channel. Search was so easy to “get” for marketers that Google turned it into a self-serve model and became the fastest growing company in history as a result.

For marketers, I suspect, the very ease of search has caused it to be considered a limited opportunity. Social, on the other hand, seems virtually limitless. It expands into hundreds and thousands of fascinating, if somewhat cloudy, opportunities to connect with customers. As I said, in theory, social seems like a marketer’s dream come true. But in practice, it’s an unwieldy animal to wrestle to the ground.

Here’s just one example of the challenges inherent in mapping the online social landscape.  Pitney Bowes felt there was tremendous potential in social to foster deeper engagements with its customers, building long-term loyalty. But rather than jump headlong into it, Pitney Bowes decided to test its assumptions through a survey of those customers first. The result? Social may not be all it’s cracked up to be:

“These findings will give decision-makers pause for thought,” the report (from the survey) stated. “Businesses can be forgiven for getting swept away by the hype of surrounding social media and wanting to invest in such activity as soon as possible. … But results show that those businesses tempted to lead with such techniques will quickly find themselves out of step with customer thinking.”

So why is social so awkward to leverage effectively? I suspect it’s because the exact same things that make social so promising also make it incredibly unwieldy to manage.  It’s part of our lives, which means we’re engaged, but what we’re engaged with is rarely what an advertiser wants to talk to us about.

Marketers get caught up in the concept of participation rates and usage. Facebook has one of the highest reaches of any online property, second only to Google. Alexa estimates that almost half of the total Internet user population (about 49%) uses Google regularly. Facebook is just behind at 43%. But if we look at time spent on site, Facebook comes it an about 25 minutes a day, compared to 13 minutes a day for Google. If we were using engagement as an indicator of marketing potential, this would have us salivating like a St. Bernard over a fresh bowl of kibble.

But the reason I don’t trust engagement as a metric is that it doesn’t consider intent. And intent is the key difference between social and search. The reason search excels in marketing is that it’s all about intent, and what’s even better, it’s about identified intent, neatly labeled by the search query. In the history of marketing, it’s never been easier than this to intercept a motivated buyer.

I don’t mean to minimize the value of a well-managed search campaign, but compared to other channels, it’s pretty difficult to completely flop on a search campaign. The same is not true for social. To illustrate, let’s step back and look at this from another point of view, one that removes some of the hyperbole that surrounds online social.

Let’s say you’ve just decided to sell your 2007 Honda Civic. As you’re backing out of your driveway, your neighbor flags you down and asks you how you like your Honda, and if you know where she could buy a good used one? From your perspective, this aligning of the planets seems too good to be true, but it’s similar to what happens on a search engine millions of time every day. It’s the power of alignment with purchase intent.

But let’s take a different tack. Let’s imagine that as you drive down the street, you see that one of your neighbors is having a party. In front of their house, there are at least 12 cars parked, including four Hondas. “A-hah, “ you say, “a perfect gathering of potential Honda buyers, with at least 33% of them showing a preference for Hondas” (note: if this is what your internal dialogue actually sounds like, you should consider an extended leave from work). You ring the doorbell and begin to work the crowd. The only problem is, no one came to the party to buy a Honda. Not to mention the obvious question on everyone’s mind: “Who the hell invited you?”

If your goal is to unload your Honda, I know what scenario I’d be betting on. It almost seems ludicrous that we’re even considering Scenario B as a substitute for Scenario A. Yet, every three months, I get that survey asking me if I’m thinking about it.

I know — it doesn’t make any sense to me, either.