And Another Thing (Anti-Social Media, Part Two)

March 8th, 2011

Stephen Covey, in the updated forward of his groundbreaking book, The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, tells a story of pleasurable subway trip gone terribly wrong. One weekend morning, the riders were reading, talking quietly and genuinely enjoying the public transportation. The peace, however, was short-lived when a man with two kids boarded the train. The kids were out of control, yelling, jumping, playing and going so far as to knock newspapers out of people’s hands. Needless to say, the mood changed and Covey was annoyed. He asked the man to do something about his kids and the man told Covey that the kids’ mother had passed away no more than an hour earlier.

As I was walking on the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica listening to the local street performers, I overheard someone say, “Wow, she really sucks.” I was with my family, so I repressed the urge to turn on my heels and get in the kid’s face. If I had, however, I wanted to say something like, “Who the f*ck are you to say ANYTHING about her abilities? She’s putting her heart and soul into chasing her dreams and is baring her soul by performing in public. She probably practices hours on end and continues to work incredibly hard to master her craft. She probably works three jobs in order to go after her passions. What are you doing? Oh, right…you have the undeniable talent going through life one-handed, as your other hand is dedicated to holding up your pants. I stand corrected.”

My experience, while not nearly as dramatic, and Stephen Covey’s are similar in that opinions and perceptions were formed and reactions were made without full knowledge of the situation. Covey probably felt like an ass when he asked the grieving husband to get his kids under control, and had I actually reacted the way I wanted to, the kid (or I) may have felt equally stupid. I didn’t react, however, because I didn’t know that kid’s situation. Perhaps his brother died trying to sing that very song and ripping on her was his way to deal with his pain. Maybe he was there every single day watching the performers and dealing with his own grief with his negative critiques. Yes, it’s a stretch, but it’s not impossible. Besides, I don’t know if any of my assumptions about the singer were true.

As I mentioned in my last post, social media provides a platform from which all of us have the opportunity to form opinions and perceptions…and give voice to our reactions – just like Covey did on his subway ride. I just wish it could all be done in a more compassionate way. Instead of me wanting to rip the kid, I should want to ask him if he’s okay? Is everything cool with his family? I just want to make sure, I’d tell him, because his negative response to the singer gave me cause for concern. Covey could have done the same. 

I admit it, my own response to what I’m calling anti-social media is based on what I perceived as a personal attack. Recently, a member of the advertising community took it upon himself to rip on the “aha moment” campaign that we have worked incredibly hard to create, develop, launch and maintain. I’ve hesitated to write about it because by doing so I’m giving more life to his opinion than it would otherwise have. But the truth is his comments continue to boil my blood, not because he ripped us – everyone is entitled to their opinions – but because he did so without knowing…well, anything. He took it upon himself to declare our efforts a failure without so much as breaking off a call to find out what we thought.

Had he called me and explained his thesis that the campaign was a failure, I might have asked him this: Do you know what our success metrics are? Can you prove we failed because of the hundreds of hours of due diligence and discovery you’ve done? Or are you basing this opinion on nothing more than…well, nothing?

If he had taken the time to do what any seasoned, credible journalist does and actually fact checked, we would have been able to show him that the campaign, was (and is), in fact, a major success. While some may argue an eye for an eye gives me the right to turn the spotlight on his agency’s creative, and although I’ve formed some of my own opinions about the work shown on his website, I wasn’t part of the discovery; I don’t know the success metrics for his efforts. And, as a result, I don’t feel comfortable commenting.

Historically, I stay away from critiquing anyone’s creative efforts. (Though, as I’m perfectly willing to do – I fall on my own sword and admit that I’m not infallible, here.) I might argue with theories (e.g. I’m not a big believer in any exposure is good exposure, but if that’s what the client agrees to – more power to you), but I’m not going to ever say, “Wow, that spot sucks.” There are some spots that I don’t necessarily understand and I sometimes think, “I would have loved a chance to come up with some ideas for this campaign.” But, does it bring me pleasure to rip someone else’s work? Not really. (And, say it with me, I don’t know what the success metrics are supposed to be.) There are, after all, quite a few people who need to approve creative work (particularly in advertising). The person who ripped the “aha moment” campaign is basically suggesting that everyone involved in the effort is stupid – on both the client and agency side.

I know that much of the criticism most people unveil is rooted in something much deeper than the surface. In fact, Covey quotes Thoreau, “For every thousand hacking at the leaves of evil, there is one striking at the root.” In other words and in its rawest terms, most of the shit we complain about isn’t actually about what we’re complaining about. Those are just leaves. It’s the roots that have us really upset. Sure, you don’t like our campaign, but what’s the real problem? Look in the mirror and figure that out.

I know that I’ll continue to have my buttons pushed by (anti) social media and I know that people will continue to react from a place of ignorance, but I think I’m done ignoring this ignorance. It’s time to speak up and speak out.

Anti-Social Media

March 2nd, 2011

Social Media is awesome in that it gives a voice to so many people who might not otherwise have one. Facebook and Twitter, for example, played a key role in the social uprisings/changes that occurred in Egypt and are happening the world over. The pictures, words and feelings that might otherwise be crushed by oppressive regimes are finding audiences the world over. And it’s important.

The drawback, of course, to all of these open and free opportunities to be heard is the tendency we seem to have developed to criticize, or worse, we seem to have become a society that loves to root for failure before achievement. Or perhaps it’s just that this “new media” has provided a more public forum to those who live to bitch. (No, I’m not talking about the demise of dictatorships. I’m talking about cheering for the failures of good people.) Much of this seems to be fueled by pundits who make their living stirring up the masses. As a result, it seems we’re being trained to take a sides – on everything. It’s more like Anti-Social Media. (Yes, I understand the irony that I seem to be criticizing with this post. I get it.)

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m hypersensitive to some criticism. I’m the guy that wants to defend friends, strangers and even myself against Tweets, FB posts, blogs or anything else that belittles the good works we’re all trying to do. And that’s often all it is – we’re just trying to do our very best. But, the truth is that I’m not looking to defend just because there are times I feel attacked. I want to defend because of the judgments that are made without full use of the facts. I want to scream from the rooftops, “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” In “agency” terms, when we start any kind of effort on behalf of any client, we do extensive discovery. We strive to learn everything – from the target demographics, to the brand to the message to the people to…everything.

The reason social media becomes dangerously anti-social, however, is that it’s so damn immediate and it (mostly) excludes such discovery. Instead, of discovering the who, what, when, where and how, people are now so quick to jump and rip on something or someone without even knowing the background. It seems like we’re all but giddy to tag something as #EPICFAIL without even knowing what success was supposed to be.

Let’s pick any hot, recent topic: Did James Franco’s OSCAR hosting effort seem a bit – unOSCARworthy? Perhaps. But, that’s no easy gig. Who the hell am I to even say? But the truth is that in today’s anti-social communications world, NOBODY can do ANYTHING that will be universally loved and applauded. No chance. In fact, I’m guessing the best anyone can ever hope for is “most” people liking whatever effort is being made. Because we’re so engrossed in taking sides these days, chances are half the people dig it and half the people hate it. The hope is a few more like it (but we might not ever know because those that “hate” are far more vocal than those who “like”).

Or even Charlie Sheen. I fall on my sword here, as I posted a couple of Tweets about how he was imploding. But, on the other hand, maybe he’s the most authentic person on the planet and instead of hiding his feelings, he’s actually speaking his mind as clearly as he can. More power to him in that case. Just because he doesn’t sound like the rest of us, we immediately peg him as crazy. (Though, on the surface, I don’t necessarily agree with him throwing everyone under the bus, but admittedly, and some of his statements seem to be more than a bit misleading or half-truths. I don’t know all the details.)

Okay, so maybe the OSCARS and Charlie Sheen are bad examples (at least to most!), but how about the reporter who had a migraine in the midst of her GRAMMY Award red carpet report? She experienced a serious medical issue, but before we knew what had happened, she was subjected to thousands of comments and millions upon millions of impressions that poked fun at her. These comments were rude. They were mean. Social media provides the opportunity for instant judgments. Maybe we should take a step back.

We’re not naïve enough to think that “everyone can just get along,” but a world filled with positive social media efforts and love (or more appropriately, perhaps, “likes”) is more likely to be a grateful, positive place. Everyone’s a critic. I just wish it didn’t have to be that way.

Bacon, Avocado, Lettuce, Tomato

January 22nd, 2011

There’s a restaurant in Berkeley called Zut! Good, simple food. Fresh ingredients. Friendly, knowledgeable staff. Great environment. And the best bacon, avocado, lettuce and tomato sandwich on the planet. They call it The BALT.

I admit it: I crave this sandwich. In the days leading up to any visit to Zut!, I think about this sandwich. I can’t wait to eat this sandwich. When I get to the restaurant, it’s all I can do to tell whomever I’m with to “hurry up and figure out what you want,” because I want my damn BALT! (Even the bread is so perfectly toasted it crunches in such a way that the sound of eating it adds to the overall flavor.)

How is it possible that a BLT (with A) can be so remarkable? After all, when it comes right down to it, we’re just talking about a BLT, right? Is there something to learn from Zut!’s BALT? Yes, I’m wondering if there’s a life lesson in a sandwich. Kosher, vegetarian and other issues aside, this sandwich is so good, and eating it is such a spiritual experience, that it makes me think about life’s big questions.

Most of us have had a BLT or a BALT at one point or another. And, sure, a generic BALT is a nice sandwich, but it’s just that – a freaking bacon, lettuce, avocado and tomato sandwich. But, Zut! didn’t think of theirs as just another BALT. They wanted more from theirs. They expected more from themselves. And instead of just creating another bacon, avocado, lettuce and tomato sandwich, Zut! produced something better. Zut! wouldn’t settle on even what might be its most simple menu item and serve something ordinary.

So the lesson is simply this:

We can and should live our lives like the surprisingly amazing BALT. We should spend time considering what’s really possible in our lives. We should imagine how (what appears to sometimes just feel like) the day-to-day grind can be uncommonly astonishing. And we should work to make each part of our lives – from the bacon to the bread – extraordinary. By doing so, we can build something pretty damn special and oftentimes, like the BALT, unexpectedly rewarding.

Some Perspective About Perspective

January 14th, 2011

I’ve long said that perspective is easy to find and difficult to keep. Recently, it dawned on me why: Perspective has become an excuse not to find solutions for our problems. We often just sweep our challenges under the perspective rug instead of cleaning them up. Just because we’re grateful for what we have doesn’t mean we have perspective.

I was talking to a friend of mine and he was complaining about a problem he was having at work. It was the usual kind of situation we’ve all be in at one time or another; his boss is a tool (to cut to the chase). He explained how his boss belittles him in front of the rest of his team because (he thinks) his boss is threatened by him. At the conclusion of his rant, however, my friend said, “But I shouldn’t bitch. I have my health and I think about what happened in Arizona and it gives me great perspective.”

We’re both dads. And, like all parents, our hearts break when we hear about any tragedies involving young kids. But I called him out on his “great perspective.” I told him that he can and should still bitch. His problems aren’t less important because of what happened in Arizona. They are still his challenges to deal with. Instead of dealing with them, however, he was going to just wish them away because his family was safe and sound? I call bullshit.

And that’s why we lose perspective so easily. It’s because we never really find it in the first place. What we “find” is a mirage. It’s a picture of a situation we perceive as worse than our own, which makes us feel like our problems pale in comparison and therefore don’t deserve the attention. What we’ve found isn’t perspective, but instead is an excuse not to deal with our challenges.

Bluntly: Finding perspective means taking care of your shit.

If we really want to “find perspective” in tragedy, then realize your problems and challenges are easily (or even not-so-easily) solved and solve them (or take steps to). Like I told my friend, “Talk to HR. The shootings in Arizona won’t make your boss a good guy. If you REALLY want to take something away from that tragedy, realize that you can’t live in fear of your boss and you need to do something about it. Take steps to fix it.” That’s finding real perspective. Perspective should be a tool…not a crutch.

There’s nothing wrong with whining about the broken appliances in the garage, or being annoyed with a kid who simply won’t do her homework. Those are the very real day-to-day challenges that gain importance (personally) with each passing day. Every time you pass those appliances or have to fight with your kid – the problem grows. It’s real and it’s frustrating.

If you want to find perspective (in tragedy or otherwise) – take steps to find solutions. That’s where perspective really lives.

2011: The Year of Letting Go

December 21st, 2010

I tend to get introspective during the Holidays. It’s natural. The end of a year invites reflection both about the time gone by and what’s to come. The truth is that this annual reflection can be a bit daunting, as I tend to spend way too much time in my head anyway. Adding more focused intensity to my day-to-day (over) thought-process is enough to make my head explode (not to mention what it does to those around me!).

The end of 2010 feels different, however. Instead of focusing on and analyzing everything (and, I should note that this focus doesn’t always only include what’s happened in the last year, but can include all kinds of events, people, etc., from years and years before), it has become clear that it’s simply time to let go.

There is so much crap muddled in my head that my ability to simply make the right decisions sometimes gets marginalized. There are a number of people who I believe have wronged me – mostly professionally – and I’ve let their actions weigh heavily on whether or not I can feel proud of the achievements that I have been fortunate enough to be part of. I can’t begin to explain how dramatically (and often) spite has dictated my own actions. And, frankly, spite is not a very good friend. It’s a first cousin of hate, or more simply, as my 5-year old would tell me, “It’s on the dark side.”

Shining the light inward, as well, there are also those (too many, perhaps), whom I have “wronged” in some way. Professionally and personally. The truth is that these people and what I may have done (or have perceived to have done) to them are also a big part of my annual mental burden. And it goes way, way back. I may still beat myself up for personal, hurtful mistakes I made two, three, five years ago. Or 10. Instead of spite driving the feelings, it’s guilt, which toes the line between the light and dark sides. Guilt is rooted in good (sometimes), I think, as we feel badly for actions and wish that we had done better. That’s good, in a way. But the result is very, very dark.

I know I’m not alone in this. I know many of us have had professional experiences that have left us filled with anger. We’ve all had personal hurts that have left us feeling unable to cope. Or, we’ve hurt someone and we take the bad feelings with us for years and years. Enough with the spite. Enough with the guilt. Enough with all the judgment that fills so much of our being. It’s time to just let go. We all have baggage. But, we let that baggage interrupt so much good. We hang on to that baggage so tightly that we can’t even see that we’ve lost all feeling in our fingers. Or worse. In our hearts and souls.

As the New Year rings in, I’m not making any resolutions about getting my finances in order or getting in shape. Instead, I think it’s time to take a far more sweeping approach and…let go. Let go of any damage that I’ve done. And, let go of whatever damage I think has been done to me (which…in retrospect…is probably nothing and certainly not worth all the attention I’ve given it). I’ve probably done more damage worrying about these old events than the events themselves originally did.

Spite, guilt, judgment and fear simply keep us from living the most fulfilled life. They keep us from exploring, trying, daring and even loving. So often, they keep us from doing what we want to do. While spite, in particular, seems like a motivator, it’s really just the opposite. It doesn’t provide a spark for potential greatness, it really actually creates a pool filled with blame and excuses.

Not that athletes are the world’s greatest role models these days, but I always remember the guys who aren’t drafted as highly as they expected. When they’re asked if they will use that as motivation, the very best ones say, “No. I’m happy to be where I am and my job now is just to be the best I can be.” No spite. Let the chips fall and lets go play. They let go immediately.

I came to this realization that it was time to let go in the midst of a particularly intense session on the rowing machine. I find that working out is the best time for reflection. My best ideas come while running, rowing, walking, or hiking. What was amazing about this discovery to let go is that my workout sucked. And, as soon as I thought, “It’s time to let go,” I had the most intense workout that I can remember. It was so loose. Free. Because “letting go” is all about the light side. It’s not related to hate; it’s all about love…and possibility.

So, as the year comes to a close – I offer this to those whom I have kept close to me so that I could prove something to you, doing things “in spite of you:” Goodbye. It’s time for you to go. I genuinely wish you the best of luck. And to those to whom I have done the same: I’m sorry. Genuinely. But I also need to say goodbye to you. I can’t worry anymore. I need to unpack!

I wish you all a very Happy New Year. Enjoy 2011: The Year of Letting Go.