Nothing Has Changed: The Social Media Constant

Smart Brief recently released some results from a survey that asked corporate leaders how they view social media today. The results are not surprising. And yet, they are surprising.

What's Not Surprising About The Smart Brief Survey.

• 83 percent say that social media gives them a window into what their customers think.
• 75 percent say they were either knowledgeable or actively trying to learn about social media.
• 63 percent say that social media is not a fad, but is very "over-hyped."
• 55 percent say that social media is not a waste of time.
• 51 percent say their companies are actively using and exploring social media.
• 40 percent fear that they are are falling behind their competitors because of social media.

What's Surprising About The Smart Brief Survey.

What's surprising is that the Smart Brief survey isn't all that different from surveys published in 2005.*

• About 70 percent say they were either knowledgeable (55%) or actively trying to learn about social media.
• About 60 percent say that social media is not a fad, but is "over-hyped."
• About 55 percent say that social media is a waste of time.
• About 50 percent say their companies are actively using and exploring social media.
• About 40 percent fear that they are falling behind their competitors because of social media.

*In some cases, we had to adjust the prevalent buzz words of the day to match the statistical data, e.g., "blogs" or "new media" or "social networking" since social media had yet to be adopted as a buzz word. Also, listening wasn't even on the radar, back then.

There are only a few explanations for such a chronic state of sameness: the original surveys skewed toward people already using social media (new users are most likely to answer surveys), people generally lied about adoption for fear of looking like they are falling behind, or perhaps there is something else missing from the state of social media.

Given our research back in time to 2005 revealed the same blog headlines we read today — such as "is social networking replacing SEO" and "Is social media a fad" — we think it's a little of all three, with the third revealing something especially interesting. While this isn't scientific per se, we have noticed that different countries lean toward different social media information on this blog.

The United States tends to focus on tactical tips whereas India tends to focus on strategic solutions. The United Kingdom tends to focus on predictions to determine what's next whereas the Netherlands tends to focus on research to determine what's most recent. The Philippines, on the other hand, tends to focus on pop culture tie-ins, which means they probably have more fun.

Why is this interesting? It might suggest where different cultures are focusing their energies. And if there is any validity to tracking topics of interest, it certainly foreshadows why different countries will end up in very different places five years from now, with the U.S. currently demonstrating a healthy appetite for sameness.

Embracing Universal Truth: Fresh Content

If there is a secret to social media, then the secret is that there are no secrets at all. Our roundup of five fresh content posts proves the point as social media — for all its newness to some people — is evolving to embrace the very theories, concepts, and ideas it once thought to shrug off.

The reason is simple enough. Tactics change but strategy tends to remain consistent. How people interact, fabricate, mislead, organize, and even tell a story remains the same as it did before social media entered the scene. So what's changed? It's even easier to see it online, which makes it especially fascinating. See for yourself.

Best Fresh Content In Review, Week of April 12

• Online Network Theory And Politics.
Jed Hallam shares some insight into the analysis of networks on the Internet and how people connect, interact, and share ideas as they pertain to politics. He does an excellent job taking his readers through the steps: identifying sources, evaluating influence, assessing connections, and then determining the best route to introduce messages. It's an excellent introduction to what a few people do every day.

• Imported Turf.
Ike Pigott's ongoing assessment of interaction contains a refreshing amount of dedication and detail. He continues to consider what dailies and other news outlets might discover about astroturfing if they didn't ignore it (coincidently, AOL is currently revamping its comment section for this reason). Outlined in this post, Pigott shows how some commenters masquerade as people with invented identities. On occasion, they even create supporting fake identities so they have "someone" to respond to.

• More Absurd Social Media Analysis – The Value Of A Fan.
Adam Singer was one of the first out of the box to debunk a theory floated by Vitrue that "fans" and "friends" could be reduced to a monetary value of $3.60. He provides eight points why that valuation is off, before pointing out the premise is flawed. But more than that, he makes the case that such formulas mislead companies into placing too much emphasis on mass and not enough emphasis on real marketing and customer relations. We followed up on his post here.

• Framework and Matrix: The Five Ways Companies Organize for Social Business.
Jeremiah Owyang's presentation on the various frameworks companies and organizations employ online is right on target. He presents five different organizational models that companies frequently embrace in social media, which provide a simplistic but accurate view of the way things work. While his assessment doesn't account for every model, it does accurately portray how companies create information structures not unlike those we tracked three years ago as they related to online fan bases.

• The Art Of Storytelling Is In The Telling.
A few weeks ago, someone asked if communicators get tired of telling the same story over and over (I offered they need to consider the listener is hearing it for the first time). A few days later, Ben Decker penned a post that eloquently conveys this point, using Up in the Air and himself as the example. He says that he tends to lose his gusto after telling a story for the first time whereas his mother-in-law can tell a story countless times with the same enthusiasm, often better with each telling. Exactly right. She appreciates that the story might be old to her, but it's new to the next person she tells. Perfect.

Placing Behaviors: Does Advertising Shape Social Norms?

A few days ago, Abby Ellen, writing for The New York Times, covered how something as simple as food advertising can shape our thinking. She uses Kelly D. Brownell's “The Psychology, Biology and Politics of Food” Yale class for an opener for her article.

The class begins with Brownell asking students to fill in the blank: "I go cukoo for ___." "Break me off a piece of that ___ bar."

The article stuck in my head not as a casual reader, but because I do something similar in one of my classes. I ask students to match taglines to companies, ranging from "Just do it" and "You deserve a break today" to "A diamond is forever" and "Tastes great. Less filling." Even students that were not overly exposed to some of the older campaigns can still make a connection.

No matter how many times I use the tagline retention test in class, it still amazes me. That's the power of a singular message.

The Same Lesson Takes Students In Two Directions.

Of course, Brownell and I have very different reasons for our respective lessons. Mine is to demonstrate how message retention increases with the reinforcement of a singular message reinforced by varying context. The commercials change, but they always circle around to a singular point that can be easily retained. I ask them to consider the lesson when they build their public service messages.

Brownell uses his lesson to build a case for social change, requiring Yale students to develop op-ed articles about social change with an eye toward publication. Suggested op-eds revolve around how advertising shapes how we define good food, how much should the government be involved in shaping the nation’s diet, can food (especially foods with sugar) be addictive, and so on and so forth.

I use my class to teach students how to develop commercial messages that stick. Brownell uses his to make the case that public policy needs to take control of the obesity crisis in this country. But there is another difference. I always ask my students when was the last time they actually bought the products I mentioned. (Generally, they don't.) Brownell doesn't, which likely leaves students with the feeling that advertising does more than persuade or inform people about products, but brainwashes them too.

Advertising Isn't Brainwashing.

While changing behavior is part of effective communication, advertisers generally keep the intent narrow. For example, if you're going to eat chocolate cereal, they want you to buy Cocoa Puffs. If you're going to eat a candy bar, they want you to buy a Kit-Kat. They don't really have much intent to brainwash you in bingeing on other brands unless the message is broad (although I could make the case that diamond sellers did a splendid job elevating demand over other rare stones).

Real brainwashing is much more subtle than sales. Generally, it's confined to public service announcements. But recently, it has crept into television programming with behavioral placements. While we're much more attuned to the notion that advertisements sell, we're a bit more open to embedded messages.

Embedded messages have garnered more attention lately, but these have been around a long time. Popeye the sailor ate spinach for a reason. Some television shows make political statements for a reason. And Brownell builds a case for public policy intervention for a reason.

It's all kind of creepy, really. But it does go a long way in demonstrating that advertising is the least of our worries.

Case in point: medicating children with antipsychotics wasn't caused by advertisers, much as advertisers were attuned to increasing demand. And given that children covered by Medicaid are prescribed antipsychotics at a rate four times higher than children with private insurance, public policy seems to be driving demand. Now that's a public policy we might do something about.

Overdosing On Climate Change: Earth Day

"Mister!" he said with a sawdusty sneeze. "I am the Lorax. I speak for the trees, for the trees have no tongues. And I am asking you, sir, at the top of my lungs" — he was very upset as he shouted and puffed — "What's that THING you've made out of my Truffula tuft?"

For most people, Earth Day started some 40 years ago. For me, given I was only 3, it started a year later in 1971. 1971 was when was the year Random House published The Lorax by Dr. Suess. It was also the same year Iron Eyes Cody debuted as the "crying Indian" in the "Keep America Beautiful" public service announcement campaign. The messages matched the appetite of the populous.

There were lessons to be learned. We could all do our part. All of it was in our best interest.

Wisconsin was well ahead of the environmental bell curve too. Wisconsin Senator Gaylord Nelson proposed Earth Day in 1969 and had intended it to raise environmental consciousness through rallies, symposiums, and discussions on college campuses and in cities across the country. His work had started much earlier as governor. Earth Day matched the sentiment of the state, especially because of its blended assets with forests and lakes to the north, farm and dairy land to the south, and industry to the east along Lake Michigan.

So what happened on the way to a greener planet in the last 40 years?

Geoff Livingston made an excellent observation about Earth Day yesterday. There isn't as much fanfare about Earth Day.

The answer might be found, in part, from another observation last year in the Washington Times. They compared Arbor Day and Earth Day to conclude that Arbor Day was largely non-political and positive where was Earth Day was political and pessimistic.

When did that happen? While the stage was already set, the shift in direction of our environmental conscience occurred in 2006 with the winds of climate change and global warming. The inconvenient truth was very much like a wild part of proof for all of us concerned about the environment, but it eventually came with one of the worst hangovers ever because some of the numbers were fudged.

That wasn't the worst of it. The inconvenient truth also took away the individual's ability to do their part and focused heavily on regulating others to do their part. The immediate impact of divide and conquer politics becomes clear enough. It shifts attention away from what "we" can do and onto what "they" can do. So "they" defend themselves while "we" forget to buy lower emission cars, recycle, and whatever. And overdosing on climate change for all its faults has made the problem bigger than any individual can fix.

Sure, I know for a fact that many manufacturers are willing to sit on emission controlling technologies (literally keeping them secret) to avoid sweeping regulations that occur at a faster pace than they can implement. But at the same time, most of those manufacturers are tied to defending their position because of pressures — price, profits, and employment — that those same regulating individuals benefit from. In other words, we're all in this together folks.

Messages make all the difference.

There have been a lot of clever and creative environmental messages since 1971, but few of them have become as iconic and legendary as the crying Indian or The Lorax. Ever wonder why?

The 1971 messages are stories that bind us together in the choices we make as individuals, with no distinction between producers and consumers or companies and people who litter. Both messages ask us to make a choice: which person do you want to be? The choice seems logical enough. Most of us want to be the solution instead of the problem.

Even the Lorax, though disgusted by the greed that came with the invention of the thneeds, left a last chance in the hands of the Once-ler, despite the Once-ler's responsibility for making the mess. The message, if you remember, is unless.

"No more trees. No more Thneeds. No more work to be done. So, in no time, my uncles and aunts, every one, all waved me good-bye. They jumped into my cars and drive away under the smoke-smuggered stars. Now all that was left 'neath the bad-smelling sky was my big empty factory ..."

Defining Engagement: The Value Of People

There seems to be some push back against the notion that social media "fans" can be valued at $3.60 each. But Vitrue, a social media management company, doesn't miss a beat. The $3.60 valuation tag placed on people is just the "tip of the iceberg," they say.

The message seems to resonate with plenty of companies, as Vitrue includes Ford, P&G, Best Buy, Unilever, Pringles, and plenty of others. Companies that ought to know better, in some cases. What's more, Vitrue doesn't seem to consider those fans owned by the brand. It boasts the combined total of its clients as their fans, about 45 million. People they "manage" every day.

Why don't most communicators accept the $3.60 valuation?

Adam Singer provides part of the answer on The Future Buzz. He provides eight points why that valuation is off beat, before pointing out the premise is flawed. Worse, they mislead companies in thinking that hordes of fans are final frontier.

Sean Williams provides another part of the answer on Communication Ammo. He offers four points, before noting that the formula fails because it sells the idea that social media is all about increasing advertising impressions.

Oliver Blanchard, who can be found at The BrandBuilder Blog, had a brief discussion on Twitter. Because he is outcome oriented, he points out the pitfall with two sentences under 140 characters.

Outcomes have value; people are priceless.

The real problem with valuations like the one Vitrue floats is that it mistakes an online environment as nothing more than media. People behave online much like they do offline in that their interactions mimic spatial actions. The only time online actions resemble media is when the engagement is media oriented (like watching a program on Hulu).

Placing a "value" on fans can be likened to claiming a product can earn media impressions simply by sitting on the shelf of a supermarket, based on a ratio of everyone who walks in the front door, even if they skip the aisle where your product is located. And doubling, tripling, or quadrupling those impressions is only a matter of adding another row of product.

Using this logic, Brillo could be placed on every shelf on every aisle and capture all past supermarket visit impressions times the total number of products. It's absurd, especially because many "fans" never return to the product page once they friend it, especially if they were driven there by a one-time incentive. Thus, every fan is not equal to any dollar amount.

And that leads us to the second biggest danger in the formula. An overly formulaic approach that relies on reach as the end measurement as opposed to a singular portion of the equation, devalues customers. After all, if we were to be so brazen in our attempts to monetize the value of people, then the Vitrue valuation gives equal value to window shoppers and customers (which also happens to be the biggest mistake among online crowd sourcing). Except, that temptation is also wrong.

Net, net, as tempting at it is to count up some 1 billion "fans" we've touched online for our clients, beating Vitrue almost 20 to 1, I'm still inclined to believe that the people we've touched are worth more than $3.60 per head. As a matter of fact, people are priceless. Outcomes have value. Engagement is an investment. And impressions are nothing but potential.

When you understand this and do the math, you get different results. You know, the kind that suggests ten people on the showroom floor of a car dealership might have more, um, "value," than 100 people who will never buy one.

Vitrue devalues its industry with a weak message.

All this made me really curious what Vitrue did. So, I took a look. It does offer some value, specifically in providing Facebook and a few other marketing-oriented applications. This, combined with some investor affiliations (like Steven J. Heyer) gave them a leg up despite being a late start-up company in social media. There is nothing wrong with that. It's not an ignorant firm.

What is happening here is the same thing that happened in public relations. Executives wanted someone to put a price tag on the return on investment, so they did. Public relations did it by counting column inches against ad rates or Rolodex card counting. Marketing did it by overemphasizing cost-per-impression. And Vitrue does it here in much the same fashion. All of those formulas did more to devalue their respective industries than any other.

But what's most striking about such counting systems is that people generally want to believe them. They want to believe them much in the same way that they were actually relevant to the clients listed beyond the sale of a single application.

But this shouldn't surprise you. Rule No. 8 in advertising is "people are irrational." That simple truth doesn't change with the favor of a title that can condensed to an acronym. CEOs and other decision makers are equally swayed by all sorts of messages, even when those message value them at $3.60 too.

Swirling Communication: A New Ning Taste Test

What's in the promise of a lollipop? Something sweet? Something sour? A little swirl of both?

Messages are often like that. And Jason Rosenthal, chief operating officer at Ning, Inc. (Ning), which is a platform that once allowed people to develop their own social networks for free, provides a near perfect illustration of a candy-coated message that only looks sweet on the surface of a plastic wrapper. Let's open it up.

Hi Everyone,

1. Flavor: Sounds sweet. Tastes sour.
2. Aftertaste: Most networks only post salutations when things are bad. Very, very bad.
3. Verdict: By everyone, Rosenthal means people who pay and 60 percent of employees who still have jobs.

As many of you know, we made a decision yesterday to focus 100% of the company on enhancing the features and services we offer to paying Ning Creators.

1. Flavor: Sounds sour. Tastes like unsweetened cocoa.
2. Aftertaste: Surprisingly bitter about the reaction to date.
3. Verdict: Ning has no empathy for anyone who doesn't pay. It's a brave new network.

The tens of thousands of you who already use our paid service represent over 75% of our traffic, and we’ve heard repeatedly from you ways that we can deliver a killer service to help make your Ning Network more effective.

1. Flavor: Sounds sour. Tastes like orange peel.
2. Aftertaste: Did he really call Ning a killer service after killing the service?
3. Verdict: Ning has/had 2.3 million networks. It intends to keep a small percentage of hundreds of thousands.

Some examples of things we are working on that you’ve asked for include new APIs, a new mobile experience and new advertising and revenue opportunities.

1. Flavor: Sounds sweet. Tastes laced with MSG.
2. Aftertaste: Chemically altered air, with a hint of chalky residue.
3. Verdict: There will be more space for new programming features once the deadbeats who made us popular are gone.

As part of this change, we’ll be phasing out our free service. On May 4, 2010, we will share with you all of the details of our new offering, including features and price points, through a series of blog posts, emails, and conference calls.

1. Flavor: Sounds fresh. Tastes stale.
2. Aftertaste: As dry as coarse sand.
3. Verdict: They've been plotting the demise of freemium services for almost two years; spam to follow.

We recognize that there are many active Ning Networks for teachers, small non-profits, and individuals and it’s our goal to have a set of product and pricing options that will make sense for all of them.

1. Flavor: Sounds sweet. Tastes metallic.
2. Aftertaste: None, beyond utter numbness.
3. Verdict: It's alway pointless to sound altruistic when you plan to squeeze blood from stones.

For Ning Creators using our free service who choose to move to another service, we will offer a migration path and time to make that change. We will still continue to allow free trials and test networks on the Ning Platform.

1. Flavor: Sounds hearty. Tastes like nine parts water.
2. Aftertaste: A hint of ice cold chicken stock.
3. Verdict: The moving truck will be here soon so we can make room for transient renters.

We look forward to talking to you further on May 4th.

1. Flavor: Sounds like peppermint. Tastes like uncrushed pepper.
2. Aftertaste: Acidic, causing indigestion.
3. Verdict: They haven't figured out what to say, but someone is hoping people cool off by then.

Jason Rosenthal

1. Flavor: Sounds savory. Tastes like an imitation.
2. Aftertaste: Sometimes the messenger is the message. And Rothenthal isn't a co-founder.
3. Verdict: Given his experience being on the acquired end of acquisitions, the writing has been on the wall for almost two years. Marc didn't write this one for a reason.

Ning is no more. At least not the Ning you knew.

There is much more to the story, enough to constitute a living case study as it seems pretty clear the company's communication is already past the expiration date. No one seems capable of talking their way past the plastic wrapper. It seems obvious someone wants the company primed up and ready to sell. But there is a good chance all these plans will backfire.

After all, Ning doesn't seem to consider how often paying Ning social networks recruit new network members from non-paying networks. And, in addressing the future migration solutions, they've already set themselves up to break another promise. They know any such move will hardly be seamless. In the meantime, here are five more voices.

• Re-Align-Ning: Is “Free” Eroding? by Doug Haslam
• Ning and Customer Betrayal by Valeria Maltoni
• Ning Reneges On Its Core Promise, Shatters Customer Trust by Shel Holtz
• Traffic Isn’t Revenue: Twitter and Ning Reach Different Crossroads by David Crotty
• The Free Internet Loses Another One: Ning by Alexa Salkever