Month: April 2017

The Double Edge of Virality

Virality is in.

What was once 15 Minutes of Fame is now something far more timeless.

Ever since the early days of YouTube, making it big on the Internet has meant instant recognition. Today, it’s an obsession.

We can’t help ourselves. We want to be known, to be popular. It only takes one lasting visual —one that’s accessible by billions of people in an instant — for us to achieve that goal.

So, we trip over ourselves to star in creative moments. We do outlandish and embarrassing things on camera to build our global name. We master the art of the Meme and the GIF — two terms only geeks knew of 15 years ago — in order to plaster our face on them in head-turning ways.

Since virality is our golden ticket to instant stardom, sacrificing our dignity for an eternity in the sun seems worthwhile.

But it cuts both ways. Are we really ready to live with that double edge?

I’m not talking about the consequences of being eternally known as the person who screwed up an exercise ball trick. Or as one of the soldiers who gave a monkey a loaded AK-47. (For the love of God, do not try this. Ever.)

Those infamous videos are the result of poor decisions. As far as I’m concerned, the people who humiliated themselves in them can reap what they sow.

No, I’m talking about the Pandora’s Box our viral obsession unleashes.

You see, our continual quest to stoke our ego has turned virality into an untamed beast. We can now go viral at any time, even when we’re not looking to. And if we’re caught in a moment of misfortune with cameras rolling, we could end up wearing that unwanted humiliation like a scarlet letter for the rest of our lives.

Consider Dr. David Dao. If you don’t recognize that name, you’re part of the problem. Dr. Dao is the man you saw being yanked out of his seat and violently dragged off of a United Airlines plane so that other extra airline employees could take his seat. You saw it because another passenger posted a harrowing video of the ordeal on Twitter, a video that immediately went viral.

This incident led to universal outrage. United’s stock prices took a beating, and they stand to lose hundreds of millions of dollars in future business because of their tarnished reputation. The longstanding procedure of overbooking flights — by both United and its rival airlines — has also come into question.

But, do you know what wasn’t discussed? How all of this would affect Dr. Dao.

Sure, there were the musings of how much money he would stand to gain from an upcoming lawsuit against United Airlines. There was the press conference, where Dao’s lawyer claimed Dao was more terrified as he was being dragged off that flight in Chicago than he was when he fled Saigon in 1975. There was some journalistic muckraking in regards to his troubled past.

What there wasn’t was compassion for the man’s predicament as a victim of virality.

Now, maybe I’m more empathetic than most, but I feel that’s not right. No amount of money from United’s coffers will ever reconcile Dr. Dao’s unwanted moment of fame. He will be known for the rest of the life as the bloodied man being dragged down the aisle of a plane by airport police as passengers watch in horror.

His chances of making a more dignified name for himself are ruined.

Dr. Dao most assuredly didn’t want any of this. He just wanted to make it back to Louisville and get on with his life.

Thanks to a callous bout of misfortune, a smartphone video camera and a societal thirst for virality, he will never have that chance.

That’s a damned shame.

So, let this be a lesson. One that teaches us to be cognizant of the cost of our viral obsession. One that illustrates the point that virality can not only improve lives, but also ruin them.

For while it’s easier than ever for us to connect and build a name for ourselves in the era we live in, we must understand that this rising tide does not lift all boats.

Proceed with caution.

The Space We Create

All around me, things are changing.

The Dallas-Fort Worth area is expanding rapidly, and the sights and sounds a mile or so up the road from me bear witness to that transformation.

Heavy equipment is clearing the land, leveling the dirt and setting up roads and street lights. Soon, the frameworks of dozens of homes will go up. And before you know it, what was once a field where wildflowers bloomed and cattle grazed will be a shiny, new neighborhood.

I’ve become a bit immune to all of this. Four years ago, I could take a short drive up the highway and see plenty of these pastures. Now, those spaces are filled with strip malls, megastores, restaurants, entertainment venues and homes.

Heck, my supermarket was once a field covered in mesquite brush. I think about that every time I pull into the parking lot to load up on groceries.

It’s as if we flipped a switch. What was once God’s green earth has become a place essential to our lives, a place where memories are made.

Those new neighborhoods? Families will make their lives there, and children will grow up there. That area will mean everything to those who call it home.

Those new stores and strip malls? They’ll become woven into our routines, the way that supermarket has become part of mine.

Those entertainment centers and restaurants? They’re where good times will be had, romances will be grown and new chapters among friends and families will be written.

Yes, a simple construction boom can result in a multitude of stories — many happy ones, some sad ones and even a few tragic ones. All in a setting that appeared out of thin air.

This is a testament to societal growth. But though these changes serve to benefit us, it’s best that we don’t forget what came before.

For while we identify with the structures that frame our memories — our childhood home, our favorite restaurant — we must remember that all of it is an illusion.

At one point, the land we now inhabit was nothing more than that. The structures we’ve created came from the dirt — the same dirt we will return to when our time is done.

Now, it’s true that much of the space we’ve created predates our existence. But in the moments where it doesn’t, we owe it to ourselves to recognize all that is lost in the transformation between the natural order and the human order.

We must recognize our impact, both for better and for worse. And we must keep our achievements in proper context.

For the space create may help us shape our own stories. But the ground we build upon tells an eternal story all its own — one far greater than the scope of anything we’ve created.

We’d be fools not to give nature proper due. So, let’s look beyond the lens of our own ingenuity and appreciate the presence of something far greater.

The ground we live on is sacred. Respect it.

Holding Back

There’s this thing that Seth Godin does nearly every time he delivers a keynote.

At some point, he’ll ask the everyone in the audience to raise their right hand, as high as they can.

When everyone has complied, he asks the following:

“Now raise it higher.”

Invariably, most of the audience will lift their arm another inch or so in the air. This leads Godin to muse, “Mmm, what’s that about?”

Of course, that’s the point. The exercise serves as visual proof of our propensity to hold a little bit back.

But while Godin goes on to explain how this thinking is a remnant of industrialized society — where we’re taught to leave a bit in reserve in the event someone asks us for more — I think our tentative tendencies go even further.

I think we hold a bit back as a means of self-preservation.

You see, for as much as we idolize those who “go all out,” we’re inherently fearful of the potential dangers that are unlocked by a full effort.

Sure, I could run as fast and as hard as I could, all the time, but then I might blow out my Achilles tendon. And if that happens, how will I get down the stairs? How will I get to work? How will I drive to the supermarket to pick up groceries?

Better to play it safe by holding back.

And this is not just a physical phenomenon. We hold a little back when formulating ideas or supporting causes, all because of the chance we might fail. What we champion might not work or be fully accepted — and if that happens, we better have an exit strategy if we want any chance of saving face.

So yes, holding back is a crucial construct for acceptance and protection. It’s as essential as the governor in a car or the blowout preventer on an oil rig; it shields us from the dangers of flying too close to the sun.

But while there might be valid reasons for avoiding full throttle, must we hold back so much? Protecting ourselves from grave danger is one thing. Insulating ourselves from any sign of disappointment is another.

While we might not like it when things don’t go our way, we must be willing to take some chances. We must summon the courage to give a little more, to devote ourselves something that might not work out.

We shouldn’t be reckless, of course. But we shouldn’t short-circuit our potential on account of our fears either.

After all, life is defined by experiences. And shielding ourselves in a bubble is not living.

So, let’s not permit “What if” block us from exploring “What is.” Let’s open our hearts and our minds to the world.

It’s time to stop holding back.

The Great Contradiction

Nothing is ever as it seems.

This statement serves as gospel at a magic show, in the CIA or during a poker tournament. The illusion is part of the game. A necessary element to achieve the objective.

But while we accept shades of gray in these isolated environments, we fail to consider the greater impact of this phenomenon. Life is full of contradictions that we must not only navigate, but also learn from.

None of us are immune to contradiction. Heck, my advice is full of it.

Consider this: I’ve shared messages of selfless improvements in this space, and then gone and spouted off about the benefits of exercise. Messages like these run against the grain, as exercise is one of the more selfish improvements out there.

Or is it?

You see, no one else besides you directly benefits from exercise. Your body stands to get stronger. Your health and stamina stand to improve. Your chances of living a longer life increase.

But that added time and improved outlook, those open the door to indirect benefits. To more opportunities to connect with others and make an impact.

When you look at it this way, exercise can be classified as a selfish activity that sets a foundation for selfless results.

And this concept of contradiction runs even deeper in our daily lives. Our trust, our love, our attention all have limits — limits directly tied to reciprocity. What’s in it for us is a real concern as we navigate how to assist others, and how to leave the world better than we found it.

Now, I realize that unpeeling this particular onion can be unsettling. It’s not in our DNA to question human nature, and an inward focus has been key to our survival for millennia. After all, there’s a reason why Look Out for Number One has been a rallying cry that’s stood the test of time.

That said, it’s crucial that we get comfortable with this setup in order to build off it. For in a sharing economy, contradictions are opportunities to iterate. They’re opportunities to take an inward-focused concept and apply them in a way the does greater good.

So, we must look beyond black and white. We must consider the silver linings our choices provide in this strange, contradictory world.

When there are none, we should move on. But otherwise, we should feel obligated to act.

For sometimes, what seems like a worthless choice can actually do a world of good.