The Paranoia of Social Media

What were the old measures responsible for assuring us of our social status?

The adages tried and true included the kind of car you drove, the clothes you donned, the music you listened to, the books you read, etc. Harmonizing with the human race (or at least its members with whom you wanted to associate) meant falling into trend lines — whether the “in” items were of interest to you or not.

But are you sensing the same shift as I am?

The most important items now are of a technology nature, and, for people who spend any considerable time online, the products and literature in question are now new software applications or the latest information contained in a popular blogger’s post.

The result is an inconsolable rat race that can quickly spin out of control as we find ourselves monumentally concerned about the dangers inherent in stepping away from the screen for any length of time. The Web moves fast, obviously, and the most accomplished bloggers have devised systems of information gathering that work for them.

But the issue of pacing is real. Following Twitter conversations, responding to Facebook messages or groups, uploading pictures to Flickr, reading blogs and watching viral video all offer tremendous possibility in terms of information gathering and sharing. But at what cost? At what time investment?

Perhaps the key, then, is to find comfort and contentment in what can be controlled. What are my true passions? What is it that genuinely interests me? And then, what is the benefit of keeping pace with things that don’t capture my genuine attention? What are the detriments?

The Internet facilitates niche-ization like no medium in history. Trying to pace with the Jones’ because we’re horrified at the notion of falling behind will only lead to a sweaty brow and a refillable prescription of Prozac.

Does this ring true with you?

Accept the ubiquity

Today I spent some time at the Olympic Trials in Eugene. I would challenge anyone to find me a more desirable final-day setting for the United States’ premier track and field event: deep blue skies, a light breeze, 82 degrees on the dial and the perfect pitch of energy streaming from the 21,000 in attendance.

And then there was the boys’ 400-meter race. A preview of the future? Perhaps. A chance for eight “kids” to take spoonfuls from the pressure/excitement adrenaline bowl? Maybe.

But what it really turned into was a chance for a crowd of about 30,000 (throw in closed-circuit TV) to gasp in palpable discomfort when one of the young runners let his heart and soul move more quickly than his legs were able. One moment he was battling for the lead, the next he was face down on the track battling the mixed emotions of will, exposure and embarrassment (with, perhaps, a small dish of pain). Eventually he rose and shuffled across the finish line.

But not before the chatter began.

“How long before we see that on YouTube?” the guy next to me said, catching the attention of a young lady filming the race one row in front of us. “This will be something he’ll never live down.”

And this was just the kind of guy who would be responsible for sending the link to all of his buddies. And so perhaps the young man will live in infamy.

After the initial horror of imagining a life lived with the incessant video reminder of what might be this runner’s most embarrassing public moment, I experienced a short pause. Short, but long enough to squeeze in the following thought (before retuning to my imagination): Approached with the right attitude, the social media outlets that will allow his misstep to live eternally, can prove of great value for the young man because they will teach (read: force) him to live authentically. Given that hiding from video footage would prove rather difficult, he will have little choice but to own the embarrassment and awkwardness and then move on.

In essence, the necessary authenticity will liberate him. And, in the long run, that will prove more valuable than a life spent trying to hide from what happened today. People in general, and those who inhabit the Internet’s social space in particular, crave authenticity. In fact, because of the information inundation, most demand it.

And that’s a lesson for entities large and small, from the personal blogger to the national brand. And you thought this was just a story about a little track and field blunder.

Well, it’s not…although that kind of road rash could keep Bactine in business for a year.

How can you protect and ensure that kind of authenticity — whether it’s self-reflection, corporate messaging or product launch?