Unless it is. I was having a conversation with a real estate friend the other day, and he asked me where I found the time to read all the various blog articles that I read at any given time. I told him that it was part of my job to be in the know and to share useful information. He said that he sometimes couldn’t find the time. I challenged him back by asking, “Will it really improve your business, reading all those feeds?”

We read on autopilot at times. We read because consumption is part of what the web gives us in nonstop streams. We can find something to consume endlessly and never hit a wall. Sure, one site might not produce information fast enough for us, so we’ll subscribe to hundreds of sites, plus what our friends share with us, plus what Twitter shares with us, etc.

But for most of us, staying current on several dozen (or several hundred) news feeds isn’t our job. It’s a way to feel current, but it doesn’t always positively impact our decisions and plans.

How addicted are you to checking for NEW on the web? And what if you “fasted” for a few days, so that you only checked on Mondays and Thursdays or similar? What would that do to your other productive needs?

I had a call the other day with Mario Sundar and two other LinkedIn employees (Wasn’t sure I had permission to name you both). We were talking about my recent post about LinkedIn and sharing. Here’s why Mario is a trust agent: he saw my post, and marshaled his company to take some kind of action to hear more about my thoughts, and see if there was any action that could be taken to improve the experience.

You could say, “Well, Duh. You’re a top blogger in the social media space. Of course he’s going to listen to you.” The picture I put up with this post is from three or so years ago. I was a total nobody. Mario hung out with me because he liked how I wrote. Why? Because he’s a man of the people. LinkedIn knows that it’s in Mario’s blood to be “One of Us.” He’s that kind of person.

I don’t get this kind of response from any of the other big social media platforms. No one at Facebook knows I’m alive. The guys at Twitter are nice, but it’s not like I have a chit-chat going on with any of them. Hell, when I want to talk about Twitter, I talk to @Ed. He’s more of a “face” for Twitter than most of their employees.

How Trust Agents Empower Business Benefits

What did Mario do for LinkedIn by listening to my thoughts about the service, and/or bringing in the appropriate team members to help me? He made me love the brand more. That love results in this post. It results in more conversations about how a company is doing it right when I’m on stage in front of thousands of people (tens of thousands if I talk about it over a year). He built more positive brand awareness via my channels than any ad will ever build.

Awareness is a good benefit.

Mario built further loyalty. I am deep in LinkedIn looking for more ways that I think it could be improved, but by doing so, I’m also using it more. When I invite people to connect with me at speeches, I just give them my contact form and my LinkedIn account info these days. Why? Because now that the new LinkedIn Contacts section works so much better (easier to sort), I’m using it far more often when thinking about business.

Loyalty is priceless.

Mario also gets free consulting from someone with 11 years in the business, because he paid me the courtesy of listening to my advice. He didn’t offer to do every little thing I asked. He didn’t sell any part of his company down the river. He just listened and showed me that he was interested in my feedback.

Friendship is better than a retainer.

Should Your Company Be Developing Trust Agents?

Well, it sure doesn’t scale. But why wouldn’t you try to build a better relationship with your buyers and existing customers? Why wouldn’t you prove that you can leverage the powers of the social web into more business? Why not prove that relationship-based sales trumps transaction-based sales?

How Do You Do It?

Call me biased, but I’d start with reading Trust Agents. But beyond that? Just keep looking for the studies and implementation stories of people who are doing amazing work in this space. New ones come out every day.

And thanks, Mario. I’m a fan of LinkedIn, and will continue to push for people to keep LinkedIn clean and to write LinkedIn recommendations that sell.

I’m on the hunt for a new car. Rather, I’ve pretty much made up my mind on what car I want, after a conversation with Kat that went something like this:

Me: I want a new Camaro.
Kat: So get a Camaro.
Me: People will say it’s a midlife crisis mobile.
Kat: The only people who say that are guys whose wife won’t let them have one.
Me: I should buy something grown-up like a Cadillac.
Kat: Why?
Me: …
Kat: Go get a Camaro.

So, I go on the web. First, I have to say that the Kelley Blue Book site is pretty darned useful and good. Lots of people also recommend Edmunds.com. Beyond that? I ran into car dealership bad design hell. The moment you go to the local dealer page, things go haywire.

I’m looking around for new and slightly less new cars, and falling into quagmire content management systems that grind, choke, and sputter out. They all use 10-point-or-less font sizes (which is fine for me, but in thinking about 40+ buyers makes me wonder how they’re actually able to read the details). They aren’t especially dynamic.

And then what’s worst is that they don’t do a lot to try and get me into their store. That’s the worst part. Because if you’re spending money making a website, and you’re hoping I blow $40K on a car with you, wouldn’t you want to make it ridiculously easy for me to connect with your sellers?

Oh, and a quick free clue. Free of charge. LOTS of your buyers will be accessing your site via a mobile device. Make it REALLY easy for me to get what I need from the mobile web.

Wow. Web designers and marketing professionals: go pitch your local dealerships. I’m blown away by all the options you’ll have for sales, if you can top what they’ve got now.

While I was on vacation a few weeks back, there were as many as four families sitting around the table at our rented place by the lake. Granted, we all knew each other from the net, so we’re not exactly a “normal” sample. But what I noticed every morning when I joined the fray (I was a relative late riser at 7:30AM compared to everyone else who had some interest in watching the sun rise), was that they all logged into Facebook to see the pulse of their friends and family. Facebook was second right after email (which is the world’s first priority for screentime). Families run on Facebook.

In the little New Hampshire town 10 minutes from the lake place we rented, I stopped into the drug store to pick up a prescription for Kat. The woman at the cash register (about 40) was talking to another coworker who was about to leave. She said, “Okay, I’ll Facebook you later, if we decide to go out.” Not, “I’ll call.” She’d “facebook” her later. The verb.

I’m not a very big fan of Facebook. I have an account. I am near the upper limit of friends (have been over it 4 or 5 times, but culled another 500 the other day because they think there should be a limit on my connections), but I also have a private account, where I friended only my family. In that account, I can see the pulse of things going on in their lives. I can see photos from their events, can see news of people’s health, all those things we used to send letters to convey. I get it, at least in that context.

For marketing? I’m still not there yet. Still feeling it out. Still trying to divine the formula.

But I totally get that families run on Facebook.

You?

I love this new Levi campaign. If you can’t see the video embedded below, click here to go to my site. Essentially, what I love about it, is that it’s the story of rebirth, or the seeds that might get us to think about rebirth, with regards to cities, to economies, to matters of finding a new identity.

Watch this video first, the commercial.

The girl voice narrating says this: People think there aren’t frontiers anymore. They can’t see how frontiers are all around us.

I love that. It’s a thought worth taking away, no matter what else you do or don’t take from the post. Put that one in your pocket for later.

Braddock, Pennsyvania

But this one’s the meat:

From this website, we learn that Levi Strauss & Co invested in Braddock, in the community center, in the public library, and in an urban farm. They are putting dollars into a community that’s down on its luck. To me, this cause-meets-advertising model is where it’s at. They’ve put some dollars into the community and have blended that with stories about people getting to work. As they sell work clothes, this is a good connection to make.

What do you think?

Might Not All Be Roses

The story of Braddock, Pennsylvania, is a bit in question, according to this site, so like with any advertisement, there’s a little work for us to do: are the folks at Levi helping, and if so, are they overplaying what they’re doing? That’s what the site mentioned in this link talks about.

In my estimation, there are probably a lot of emotions around this kind of project. There are probably many versions of what happened, and I’m sure there are many people from Braddock who won’t give Levi Strauss & Co much credit for it. We can never please the world, and we can always do more. That’s part of life all the way around.

But What About You?

How do you see this effort working? Did you notice all the social media integration? Does it conjure up the desire to share the story, because it’s the story of many places where we live? Or do you have other thoughts about it?

People think there aren’t frontiers anymore. They can’t see how frontiers are all around us.

I don’t read much fiction any more, and frankly, it’s weird to explain when or why a fiction book slips into my sights. But I caught a glimpse of Justin Cronin’s The Passage (amazon affiliate link), and knew I wanted to read it. I’m very glad I did, and I can recommend it, should you be in the mood for a late summer page turner.

The Passage is probably easiest described as The Stand meets 28 Days Later meets Daybreakers (that vampire flick with Ethan Hawke that very few people saw). It starts off rather fast-paced and rushes right into the premise. I shot a quick video review of my take on The Passage. Because I’d read it on my Kindle reader, I didn’t have a book to wave in your face. Forgive me.

You’d think that if it took them only 30 or so pages to get to the meat of what’s going to happen, and if the book is over 700 pages long, that something’s going to drag.

Not for me. I missed sleep over this book. I kept finding myself up at 2AM, reading rapidly to get to the next part, and I would then realize I had to pee, at night, in the dark, after having devoured many pages of a book where bad things happen in the dark. That’s how good it was.

A painter had many admirers. They not only liked his work, but they felt a kinship with the man, himself. To that end, the painter thought about how he could involve his audience in his work in some little way.

One day, the painter installed a little window in his studio, so that his admirers could come watch him from the hallway outside. He didn’t install glass, so that they could comment to him while he worked. Soon enough, the painter found that he enjoyed talking back and forth with the people who’d gathered at the window. He’d lay down his brush, wipe the excess paint from his fingertips, and take a moment to talk with the people who’d gathered there.

After some time, the painter started his day by talking with the growing crowd that had gathered at his little window. He’d chat amiably about the day before, about what part of his work he’d tackle today, and about whatever was on the minds of the people. Sometimes, these talks would last until nearly lunch, and the painter would find his brushes stiff and packed with dried paint. He’d spend a little while more talking with the people while soaking his brushes to loosen the paint.

Some days, he’d set not a single new stroke down atop another on the canvas. But he’d talk with his crowd.

When the end of the month came, the landlord stood amongst his friends at the window, demanding the next month’s rent. But the painter had sold nothing. He’d created nothing new. There was nothing to pay the landlord.

His friends came to the rescue. This warmed his heart. He felt that his experiences through the window had saved him, and proved the value of community.

But this was a single, solitary transaction. It was never to be repeated. Friends rarely seek the role of benefactor, least of all admirers who could only barely be considered “friends” in the sense that one might require for such a moment in time.

And the morning after his friends had paid his way, he sat back at his canvas, he primed his brushes and stirred his pots of paint, and he set to work. The window remained open. He made the occasional comment. He expressed warmth and regards to those who gathered, but he stuck to his work, and saved his community experiences for those times in between those where he focused on his work.

So, my painter friends: tell me about your window.

Photo credit prakhar

Look at this:

You see that LinkedIn will let me share with people within the system. What’s missing? Oh right: sharing with off-LinkedIn platforms.

But here’s the thing: if I share the stuff I like into Twitter or Facebook or my blog, then I’ll be adding LINKBACKS to LinkedIn, which will encourage traffic, enhance Google Juice, and better emulate that which made the web worth it.

By sharing only within LinkedIn, what’s that buying me?

Please don’t copy Facebook. Please share out into the wilder world. It’s more funnerer that way.

Over the last several days, my Twitter has flooded with people asking me to help them vote up their worthwhile charity on the Chase Community Giving campaign project on Facebook. In every case, the charity is something that deserves support (at least the ones I’ve seen). In every case, they’re great people doing worthwhile things.

The problems with using social channels heavily for things like vote-raising events like this is that it floods one’s channel with that kind of promotion. That’s problem 1.

The secondary problem is that if you’re someone with a larger following, you have to manage how many of these competitions you’re going to promote, because one begets another begets misgivings about which charities one supports and which charities one doesn’t.

By pushing a heavy campaign through something like Twitter to get votes for one’s Facebook, there’s a problem with muddying that particular stream. Everyone thinks “it’s just one tweet,” but they don’t see the other side of all the requests, and/or the companies pushing these types of vote-grabbing campaigns don’t realize the digital littering this kind of method gets.

I wish every vote cost $5, and that the $5 went into a pool for the winners. Hell, I wish every tweet requesting votes came with some kind of donation aspect to it. Then we’d raise money on the way to raising money.

I love using social media for nonprofit work. I do it all the time. But I try to be very responsible in how I use my channels and I try not to create digital litter campaigns. I’ve learned from past experiences that no one appreciates the fallout.

Thoughts? Disagreements?

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I’m not much of a user of the current location-based social applications, things like Foursquare or Gowalla. When I started thinking about why, the answers were mostly business-related. If I point out where I am, it might give something away (if I’m in Memphis, am I with FedEx? If I’m in St. Louis, am I visiting Build-A-Bear?). If I point out where I am, it means you might want to meet (which is sometimes great, and sometimes not entirely possible). I just haven’t found the business value of telling everyone where I am.

I don’t want to be the mayor of things in Foursquare. I want to be the mayor of things in real life. In my little town, when I walk into my restaurant of choice, they know me from my frequency. They give me excellent service. They let me order off the menu. That’s much more fun than being the “mayor.”

Now, the missing ingredient? If there were context. I’d gladly tell everyone in LinkedIn where I am. Why? Because there’s at least a glimmer of possibility that we’ll have a business reason to connect instead of a serendipitous social reason. (Don’t get me wrong: serendipity is awesome. I’m just not always keen on decloaking for social-only reasons.)

So for now, feel free to go map yourself. Me? I’ll just let people know when it seems appropriate.

What’s your take?

Photo credit Mumu X