Social Medea

Social Medea

That’s not a misprint in the title. Medea was best known as an enchantress.

As I’m wading through the mostly inane ramblings on Facebook (“I’m hiking,” “Tried a new cat food” (personally?), quotes from John Adams or Henry Winkler, or Soupy Sales, “Tommy scored 90% in ‘How Well Do You Know Your Own Rear End?'”), I am having these thoughts:

1. If you did not view or post on Facebook for, oh, one week, to what degree would your life be poorer? What would you have missed, and to what extent would you be less of a person, a professional, an object of interest? It it weren’t there, would it make a difference, or is it just occupying time, like a game show rerun?

2. If you were off Facebook for that week, and assuming you didn’t use the time to become a potted plant, what would you do with it to enrich your life? Would you interact more in person, or read another book, or learn a new skill, or pursue a hobby, or just think about your relationships and future, or play with the dog more? How much would that benefit you?

3. The people most vociferous about social media are clearly those who stand to gain by it, giving seminars, providing coaching, and somehow making money by encouraging use. It’s almost like a huge Ponzi scheme in some respects. I’m reminded of Y2K, or the guy with the pinky ring and Cadillac who rents the hotel room for a presentation to get you to buy soap suds and “recruit new members.”

4. People actually talk about “monetizing” presence on social platforms. See point #3. Even the people who OWN Twitter, for example, aren’t making money from it! If someone can find a way to get me 50 cents from each of the 4 million people connected to me on linkedin, I’ll split it with you!

5. There are examples of just abominable taste, not merely because some oafs feel free to use obscenity or scatological references (for some reason, more women than men), but because they are oblivious to the fact that they are at a virtual public gathering and they think there’s nothing wrong with it. These must be the same people who curse out loud on airplanes and spit on sidewalks and talk back to movie screens.

6. You can start some serious conversations on Facebook and elsewhere, but they peter out. Moreover, the amount of postings that have NO responses, NO commentaries, is huge, meaning that, well, perhaps no one among your “friends” cares! It’s all about personal “air time” and being heard and seen without having to be interesting, be helpful, or have ideas.

7. When you challenge any aspect of the social platforms or act in a non-conformist way (e.g., I don’t “follow” anyone on Twitter, though I have 700 followers) you get angry ripostes from the self-appointed owners of the secret decoder rings. They want to give you etiquette lessons. How can there be etiquette standards in what is, for all intents and purposes, a social free-for-all where most people don’t care how they use the cutlery?!

I’m yanking chains here to have some fun (I don’t believe you can easily debunk something you’re not part of), but there is a fundamental truth that people will have to come to grips with. These sites are huge time dumps IF you allow them to be. They don’t “amplify” anyone’s message because they “amplify” ALL messages, meaning the cacophony is so intense that nothing stands out. The exceptions claiming business gains—I’m talking making money, not making “contacts”—are rare and, frankly, I don’t believe most of them.

But the key question, outside of spending a few minutes a day on this stuff is: Am I better off, is my life enriched by the hours I spend on virtual social platforms each week, or is there something I’m not getting to, something I’m avoiding, something detracting from my growth?

The articles are starting to appear debunking the entire scene, which is a predictable cycle. There are claims that Twitter has only a 40% retention rate, for instance (Nielsen Online). I think in a year we’ll see some kind of vast combination and amalgamation which might just make all this more practical and fulfilling. But with rare exception, right now, it’s like chewing air.

Beware the siren call.

© Alan Weiss 2009. All rights reserved.