Don’t fish in my friends and I won’t pee in your pool.

While everybody’s having their usual post-Facebook-changes anyeurism, where they kick and scream about a service they don’t pay for making changes as if there isn’t anything actually significant going on in the world, I’d like to take a moment and talk about the privacy issue.

No, not the usual “Facebook just changed/simplified/complicated/sold-your-shoe-size-to-the-government” privacy issue that occurs once in a while, but of a different kind. The kind that I consider a violation between friends.

The issue I’m talking about here is “friend fishing.” It’s when somebody goes through your list of friends, which you’ve made visible on the side of your profile, and friend requests people that they really have no business “friending.” People who you KNOW there is no humanly possible way that they could actually know this person except through you.

I don’t want to, and I’m not going to name names here, but this has happened on more than a few occasions with my musician friends, however recently it happened in a slightly different context.

I became aware of this over a year ago, when suddenly in the Facebook stream I saw something like,

“[Your Netiquette-Unaware Musician Friend] is now friends with [your third grade teacher, 5 sorority sisters, 1 coworker, 2 of your friends in Hong Kong, and 7 people in some other kind of completely irrelevant context].”

THIS IS NOT COOL.

Sure, I know that the other person on the other side of the friend request is not obligated to accept a friend request. But many of those people blindly accept friend reqs from anybody with whom they have just one person in common, not knowing any better, and/or just not caring, and/or are way too trusting.

However, to the person whose friends list you are fishing, THIS FEELS LIKE A VIOLATION. A violation of trust between real “friends,” a violation of privacy, a violation of boundaries.

When this started becoming a pattern, I decided to just avoid having that awkward “that’s really not cool” conversation with perpetrators and threw everybody in my “music world” into a list of people who can’t see my other friends. Maybe I was lazy, maybe I just didn’t want to have to keep having that conversation. Either way, it seemed like an easy fix. Many people in that world of mine simply AREN’T social-media-etiquette savvy. They don’t know any better, many are all about the “friend collecting,” and Lord knows I get REALLY sick of being on this soapbox.

I’m not saying all musicians do this, mind you. I’m just saying what I’ve noticed among my network has been mostly people in my “music world,” so to speak. What prompted me to write this was a little earlier, I suddenly saw an update in my stream that looked like

“[Guy You've Known Since Middle School] is now friends with [Your Recently-Found, Long-Lost, Very-Close Friend (Who Happens to be a Musician) and Said Guy Remembers You Talking About Her, Which Probably is What Prompted the Subsequent Friending."]

I literally said out loud, “Um, WHAT?!”

Look — THAT’S JUST NOT COOL.

I immediately made it so that NONE of my friends can see who else I’m friends with. But I shouldn’t have to do that. If I let you see my friends list, I am trusting that you’re not going to fish through it and abuse it. I leave it open for the real situations where people I know might go through it and find other people that we actually do have in common, like were in the same high school class, ski club, whatever.

Yeah, okay, so this post is likely a few months too late, with all the newfangled friends-filtering options Facebook has rolled out recently, and let’s not forget the advent of Google Plus and their “Circles” concept, all of which theoretically should solve this problem.

Theoretically.

Look, I'm being metaphorical and literal here simultaneously!But this raises a couple questions.

1) Who is going to take the time and go through their already-established, pretty-darn-big network they’ve curated, and meticulously put people into certain piles? I’m not an OCD-in-training 7 y/o separating my Skittles by color because “they have to be that way.” I like all my Skittles to be in the same bag, and although I like to “taste the rainbow” and see all the pretty colors mixed together, I also know that some flavors just don’t mix well together. (Oh, the metaphor… I’m SO deep, I know.)

2) The bigger question it raises is trust. Yes, trust between friends and respect of privacy and boundaries, but I’m talking about a bigger trust here. Trust among ourselves as a society.

If we can’t trust our friends to respect the fences we’ve put around other areas of our lives so much that we have to rely on The Powers That Be of social networks to enable us to tighten those fences… are we, as a society, REALLY ready for what we’ve gotten ourselves into, technologically? Socially? Psychologically?

I don’t think we are, honestly. Some circles aren’t made to be broken, some fences aren’t meant to be scaled, and some lines aren’t meant to be crossed.

I would love to hear your thoughts.

 

Photo 1 by bodog Dan, pic 2 is album art from Depeche Mode’s Violator, and if you don’t know what pic 3 is, you’re reading this from some other planet. 

Peanut butter cups, duct tape, and social media: They’re more alike than you think.

Reese's Peanut Butter CupI really thought I was done writing about “social media.” I’ve been bored with it for a long time, over saturated, jaded, stick-a-fork-in-me done. Yet recently I had a conversation with a new online friend of mine that reminded me of one big reason why.  (And in my usual ironic fashion, I thought I’d write about why I’m done with writing about it. However, consider this the last post before a big shift.)

Anyway, back to my friend. Like the friends I’ve been making online since the days of IRC, she and I bonded over our mutual love of music. Only we met via Twitter, not IRC or a BBS. She’s not one of of the myriad marketing/PR/”social media” people on Twitter, nor does she have any more than 200 followers, and you know what? That’s OK. Neither the tool, nor the perceived online “klout” matters as much as what was the glue that brought us together, which was music.

I really enjoyed conversing with her for a few weeks, so I invited her to befriend me on Facebook. Her reply (strung together from a couple DMs) went something like this:

Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind if I decide to add more pals to my Facebook acct. Right now I only follow my kids. I’ve ranted against Facebook for a long time. Now that I’m on it, I’m afraid if I befriend one person over another, someone will get pissed.

I told her not to worry about what the social media pundits/gurus/ninjas/unicorn jockeys say, and to just use social media however it works best for her. She said to me, “Oh, it’s not just them, it’s how I’ve seen the people around me use Facebook. I have no desire to be bombarded by baby pictures!”

We all have our different policies on whom we befriend on the world’s largest social network and why (or why not), but I thought I’d reach out, because, well … I dig her. She did accept my friend request, which I appreciated, but would totally understand had she decided not to.

Though this particular situation is about personal use of Facebook, the implications of her comments are much farther-reaching and apply just as well to the business aspect. . . both of which drive me batshit crazy.

Echo chamber or baloney machine?

Baloney Faces

This is wrong on so many levels.

Every day, the social media pundits in the blogosphere churn out an immeasurable barrage of “best practices” posts, and at any given time, there is a conference, seminar, webinar, or tweetup going on all about the “right way” to do things on the social web vs. the “wrong way,” yada yada yada.

Scroll through your RSS reader or click any random link in Twitter and chances are you’ll see headlines like “10 Social Media Best Practices for ___” and “5 Reasons Not To Do ___ on [insert social tool du jour here].”  Not only does it get tiring to hear after a while, once you’ve worked with enough companies and individual clients on your own, your bullshit  baloney meter gets as finely-tuned as your patience for hearing it grows thin.

The average person on the web and the average client, whether they’re a small business, a big corporation, or just the lady down the street who enjoys tweeting during NBC’s The Voice  is so bombarded with all these messages, it’s no wonder that they feel pressure to do things the way it’s allegedly “supposed to be” done.

I’ve encountered people who were very frustrated and distraught because they’ve spent money on conferences, webinars, and books all about how they can make social media work for their business, yet they’re not seeing any significant difference in revenue. They’ve followed all the “steps” and did everything all the usual case studies did, but they’re throwing in the towel and saying it’s a waste of time and money.

The fact is, you can follow all the advice from all those sources as much as you want, but if you forget who you are and what your needs are, it’s probably not going to work out for you. Nothing is cookie-cutter, social media doesn’t come in a box, and if you try to follow instructions like that, you’re only going to end up half-baked.  (Pun unintended.)

But… what about the case studies?

Case studies are great, and it’s important to discuss what’s working and what’s not. It’s great to see examples of how companies used certain tools to work to their advantage. But only Zappos is Zappos, only Comcast is Comcast, and only Company X is Company X. You can learn from their trials and tribulations, you can employ their tactics, but what it all comes down to is what works best for you. Everything is subjective. 

Case studies stand out because the company in the study was willing to experiment. The companies (and people) were willing to stick their neck out and try stuff. But for every “best practice” being preached on and about the social web, there is someone doing the exact opposite and it’s working out just fine. (If not a case study such as, “How Company Y Did It Wrong and Got It All Right.”)

Social media is a bunch of tools.

Beavis and Butt-Head

Uh... huh... huh ... she said "tools."

Let’s ignore the double-entendre there for a second and admit that tools are things that exist in order to carry out a particular function.

The other day I saw a tweet that said something like, “I should be able to tell what you do from briefly looking at your twitter profile.” I don’t remember the particular tool who said it (see what I did there?), but to them I say:

Says who?

Who is anybody to say how anybody else should use a tool? My goals for using a certain tool are different from others’ goals. Pardon me for putting my own goals in front of someone else’s expectations of how I “should” act on the social web. Frankly, I don’t care about advertising on Twitter what I “do,” I just want to have fun. So what’s with the self-righteousness?

If you know the history, it was by its users’ ingenuity and NOT using Twitter how it was originally intended that made it grow to what it is today.  Same goes for duct tape. When was the last time you used duct tape on a heat duct? There’s more than one way to use a certain tool, and hell, there’s more than one way to eat a Reese’s.  The examples are infinite.

duct tapeIt’s no secret that I am one of the many people on Twitter who HATE automatic direct messages (“auto dms”). In fact, I despise them so much that I put right on my background “I auto-unfollow all auto-dms.” I think they’re extremely annoying. But a lot of people and companies still auto-dm, and it appears that they’re doing just fine on Twitter. So if it works for them, who am I to tell them not to do it?

I just know that personally, it annoys the crap out of me, so I choose not to follow people who do that. It’s my choice. It doesn’t matter how allegedly “wrong” or “right” something may be, if it works for you, that’s what matters, right?

This may be oversimplifying, if not downright insulting to the social media strategist/consultant/guru/ninja/unicorn jockey who pours all their sweat and elbow grease into blogging and advising people on what to do or what not to do, but if you run all of that echo-chamber “advice” through a metaphorical colander, it all boils down to a very common cliché:

Different strokes for different folks.

Gary Coleman

Yup, I went there.

So people, please — stop wasting your time and breath on how you think things should be done, or worrying about what other people did, and start concentrating on what works best for you. It’s great to know what worked best for others, and yes, sometimes you’ll get some great ideas, but “doin’ it wrong” for one is oftentimes “doin’ it right” for another.

Note that I’m not saying people who have NO frickin’ clue  shouldn’t seek guidance — there are plenty of seasoned professionals in the field of communications who are well-versed in navigating the digital waters and can help out those who aren’t as comfortable. People who already have experience in trying different things, are familiar with the ever-changing landscape of tools, and may be able to shed some light on possibilities and help shape a strategy.

But figure out what’s best for you. You as a person, you as a business, whatever. Stick your neck out. Experiment. Know who you are, what your goals are, what’s important to you, and especially what’s not important to you. Once you figure that out, you’ll be a lot further along than most. The internet is just an extension of life — everything is trial and error.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go out and buy some duct tape, some Reese’s peanut butter cups, and somehow get that disturbing smiling bologna image out of my mind.

It’s not “camp” unless you’re building a fire.

Stacy's dad at a campfire

Please help me understand this.

In my field, (un)conferences are the lifeblood of excuses to get out from behind one’s computer and actually (*gasp*) socialize, instead of just talk and write and present and tweet about all things “social” online.  (Crazy concept, isn’t it?) But a very large chunk of these conferences are called “camp” — there’s BarCamp, PodCampBrandCampWordCampGeekGirlCamp, myriad “boot camps,” and I’m sure plenty more.

Stacy's dad at a campfireI’ve been to a few of these “camps” I listed above (for the record: though many tell me I look like Alyson HanniganI never went to band camp) and they’re anything but camps. They’re a bunch of geeks in conference centers, usually laptops, netbooks, and iPhones in tow, listening to a speaker, jotting down notes and tweeting as they go. Occasionally they actually talk to each other. Most of the time they dress like this.

But none of this has anything to do with camping. Or campaigns.

When I was growing up, every year my family would drive Up North (that’s capitalized in Michigan) to Clear Lake State Park, get a campsite, pop a tent, erect our screened-in kitchen around a picnic table, and well, camp. We’d build a campfire in a fire pit, and sometimes roast hot dogs or marshmallows. We water skied on the lake, laid out on the beach, played volleyball, rode bikes, and explored trails.

When I went to fifth grade camp, we were put up in cabins but it was nonetheless camp. There was canoeing, swimming, horseback riding, archery, and we had to schlep quite a ways to an outhouse in the middle of the night if we had to use the bathroom. There was a mess hall, counselors, arts and crafts, hiking, and of course, a campfire every night. You know, “Kumbaya” and the whole bit.

So why the heck are all these conferences called “camp”?!

I don’t go popping a tent in the middle of the woods with a bunch of people, make a fire, roast marshmallows over it, and call it a conference, because it’s not. It’s camping. And neither should a bunch of folks gather in a facility that has tables, comfy chairs, big screen projectors, electricity, running water, and keynote speakers and call it “camp,” because it’s not. That’s a conference.

I don’t get it. Halp?

Photo: That’s my dad, camping a few years ago.

If you are not a public figure, you do not need a fan page. Period.

Picture 8

You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake.  You are the same decaying organic matter as everyone else, and we are all part of the same compost pile.  ~Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club, Chapter 17

I’ve been noticing something on Facebook lately that absolutely irks me – regular people who are neither celebrities, nor an otherwise public figure, are deciding they need fan pages. I don’t understand why, and I finally tweeted about it last night after I had had enough.

I got a lot of interesting conversation out of it, mainly with Juanita Chronowski, who maintains a fan page for her writing as a way to separate the personal from the professional. OK, that I can understand. Ari Herzog does the same thing. But people who are NOT public figures in any way, shape, or form? Unless somebody else made the page out of appreciation or as a joke – my friend Jen had it right when she said, “that’s flippin’ weird.

Facebook allows personal profiles up to 5,000 friends, and if you actually have more than 5,000 friends then perhaps you do need one. Perhaps you are somewhat of a public figure, and if that is the case, then go ahead and make yourself one.

Call me a purist, folks, but if you are not famous except in your own mind, YOU DO NOT NEED A FAN PAGE. Regular people having a fan page for themselves screams of an ego problem and “look how self-important I am!” — and frankly, makes me question why I would be friends with that person in the first place.

I’m tired of regular people thinking they’re special, unique snowflakes and deserve their own fan page just to boost their own egos. Non-public figure fan pages cheapens the value of fan pages for those who actually are public figures. Don’t believe me? Fan my cat. She’s more of a celebrity than most of these conceited people.

What do you think? Am I wrong here? Am I missing something? Is there a reason regular people who have not exceeded the 5,000 friend limit on Facebook and are NOT public figures should have their own fan pages? This is such a turnoff!

Social media is way too smurfy these days.

smurf

smurf[If you know me in person, chances are you've heard this before, but I'm at the point now where I feel it just needs to be written down.]

I hate the term “social media.” Really, I do. Why? Because it’s too hard to define. I’m definitely not the first person to blog about this, and I’m sure I won’t be the last. But here’s the truth:

All media is social media.

Media, at its very ethos, is social. Cavemen didn’t paint cave paintings and not talk about them. Egyptians didn’t carve hieroglyphics just because they were pretty pictures — they told stories. Radio never really was one-way — it encouraged interaction with people calling in. TV may seem one-way but do people not sit around the TV and watch it together? Do people not talk about their favorite shows with each other?

All media always has, and always will, encourage social interaction. Whether it’s immediate as what we understand “social media” to be nowadays or not is a different story.

The only difference between “traditional” media and “social” media is that “social media” makes two-way (or one-to-many, or many-to-many) communication a helluva lot faster. And let’s just face it – this is simply the way the world communicates now.

However, like those folks I linked above, I understand that there is no one, true definition of “social media,” and that alone is a problem, illustrated by a story a few friends of mine relayed to me recently:

A colleague of ours, a rather big name in the “social media world” and a bigwig at a rather large, world-famous company, was to speak about social media at a local event. I did not attend said event, but my colleagues did, because they wanted to hear what he had to say about how he’s used “social media” in/for his company. Based on the questions from the audience, however, it became more of a Twitter 101 class, and my colleagues admitted they were a little embarrassed for him. This was not a marketing fail, as the event was promoted appropriately. Or was it?

My colleagues’ definition of social media was and is much more complex than that of the audience. They were expecting how this guy applied “social media” for marketing/PR purposes. The audience was apparently expecting how to use a tool or two, which is a lot different.

Social media is the new smurf.

Smurfs used the word “smurf” for just about anything, and it was understood without question. Or they used it when they couldn’t think of any other word for something, which is where we are now with “social media.” Hell, any kind of interaction via the internet or mobile now can be considered “social media,” and I can’t believe that for a society as chatty and as articulate as we are, we can’t think of any other words for what the heck we’re talking about.

We need to expand our vernacular.

I was taught that you shouldn’t complain about something without proposing a solution, but honestly? I don’t have one. What I do know is that the more we use “social media” as a term for just about any kind of communication these days, the more confused people get, and the more smurfy things become. I like to be more specific when I speak of expedited communication through ever-changing technology, but I realize that sometimes it’s easier smurfed than smurfed. I know that many times, I still go over peoples’ smurfs and they still don’t smurf what I’m smurfing about, even when I think I’m smurfing on their level.

So what do you smurf? Is “social media” too smurfy these days? Should we be more specific and throw that term out the smurf? Or is it fine and smurfy? Leave your smurfs in the smurfs.

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