Tag: trends

The Web

It started with Beanie Babies.

A friend of mine was obsessed with them. And he showed me his nascent collection when I visited.

You have to get some, he exclaimed.

Soon enough, I had a miniature plush dog named Bones. My sister had a red plush dog named Rover.

But naturally, we wanted to be as cool as our friends. We wanted more Beanie Babies.

t us the Beanie Baby guide – a book covering all the stuffed animals in circulation, and all the limited-edition options we’d missed.

At the start of the book was a disclaimer.

The collection continues to change. Go to the Ty website for a more detailed list.

And thus began my first cannonball into the waters of the Internet.

There were no smartphones back in those days. There were no Google Chrome browsers. There wasn’t even a broadband connection.

To get online, I needed to log into the America Online app on our home computer. This process would tie up our landline, blocking phone calls to the house. And it would cause a bunch of odd sounds to come from the modem next to the computer.

Once connected, I’d need to navigate to the web browser — and then enter the Ty website. The page would load over the course of several minutes, with images loading line by line for several more minutes after that.

A click to a deeper webpage – in this case, the complete Beanie Baby collection list – would start the process over. All told, I was on the web for a half hour or so before I found what I was looking for.

But eventually I got there. And I once I did, I spent several minutes – and ink cartridges —printing out the entire list of Beanie Babies. That way, I could pore through it on my own time.

The Internet was just a digital guidebook to me back then. No more, no less.

As I grew up, my relationship with the web shifted a bit.

We got broadband in our family home, and I got my own computer in my bedroom.

After I finished my homework each evening, I’d spend hours at my desk browsing.

I’d read sports columns on ESPN’s website. I’d set my fantasy baseball or football lineup. I’d chat with my friends on AOL’s Instant Messenger (better known as AIM).

But as I moved off to college, my reliance on the web dwindled.

I still hopped on to keep up with sports news, and to update my social media profile. But I now had text messaging on my flip phone, allowing me to communicate with friends on the go. And with my life centered on a college campus, I valued in-person connections over endless online browsing anyway.

The web was back to being a convenient novelty. But that was all about to change.

I sat in the lobby of the CBS Miami news station, dressed in my finest suit.

My palms were sweating as the bright Florida sunshine filtered into the room. I needed this interview to go well.

You see, I’d decided what I wanted to do with my life after my college graduation. I wanted to make a living as a TV news producer.

I’d taken most of the requisite classes. I’d volunteered on the campus TV station’s sports and news broadcasts.

But I didn’t have any true local news experience on my resume.

This internship – in the last semester of my last year of school – would be my final chance at filling that gap. I’d do whatever was needed to get brought on board.

Soon enough, I was in a conference room with Dave Game. He was older, a bit heavy-set, and came off as a bit blunt.

How much do you know about Internet news, he asked.

I replied that I’d looked at the CNN and Fox News websites before, as well that of ESPN. But that I tended to watch local news on television. This was why I wanted to be a producer after all.

I watched intently as Game nodded.

That’s all well and good, he said. But trust me. Most of the viewers of our station are not like you. They’re doing something else while the news is on. Or they’re busy and miss the broadcast entirely.

They still want to get caught up on the news, but on their own time. My department brings that to them.

He went on to explain how the web department achieved that mission. They revised news scripts for easier reading on the web. They took the associated clips from the newscast and added them to the on-demand video feed. And sometimes, they added pertinent local stories that didn’t make the local broadcast.

If you take this internship, you’ll get a hand in all that, Game told me. It might not seem relevant to you. But trust me. News stations are hiring for these skills. You’ll stand out.

His words proved prophetic.

I took the internship, gaining a mastery on Internet news reporting. When I landed a job as a news producer at a TV station in West Texas, I brought those protocols to my new station.

I’d often be in the newsroom until midnight ensuring that all articles and video clips from the day’s newscast made the website. I told myself that the viewers that missed the 10 PM newscast needed me. And I powered through exhaustion to get the web content uploaded.

The Internet was now my passion. And it would soon become my livelihood.

I sat in a modest office in a suburb of Dallas, wearing the same suit I’d once sported in Miami.

Across the table from me, the man I hoped would become my boss perused my resume.

I see you have some experience writing for the web, he stated. How much do you know about blogging?

I stated that I didn’t have much experience with that forum. But I added that I was a quick study.

That’s good, the man stated. This role is for digital marketing, which is not news production. But content marketing is the way of the future, and I think you might have the online writing experience we need.

I landed the job, and my second career was off and running.

That first marketing role revolved around websites. Specifically, the half-dozen websites of the home remodeling companies my employer took on as clients.

A web designer built those sites. But I did everything else – filling in the product pages, posting blog articles, and helping ensure the sites ranked on Google.

After a layoff, I landed with a different company that provided websites to insurance agents at scale. I started that role with 20 agency websites under my purview. Eventually, that number ballooned to 120.

The Internet had gone from something I accessed for Beanie Baby lists to the technology that paid my salary. I was bullish on its potential.

Still, I could see the buzzards circling.

The smartphone had been around for more than a half-decade by the time I started optimizing websites. And the mobile experience was improving by leaps and bounds.

Content marketing and search optimization relied on consumers perusing Google results and clicking through to websites. With mobile apps entering the fray, there was now a new way to find information.

Soon, social media channels would turn into commercial marketplaces. And artificial intelligence would enter the fray.

The web was still powerful, and my job still drove revenue. But the returns were dwindling. It was time to pivot.

So, after earning a Master’s degree in Business Administration and weathering a global pandemic, I took a new role in product marketing. And I left my website-heavy focus in the rearview.

I still browse the web to catch up on the news now and then. But less often than I used to.

There are many reasons for this shift. For one thing, I have less free time than I once did. For another, the events of the world have grown increasingly contentious.

But the biggest reason is the paywall.

Indeed, many websites now charge money for access to their information. And given my other concerns, I have no desire to open my wallet for this unlimited access.

This shift to paywalls was inevitable. Prompts to get website readers to buy related items have fallen flat as new channels have emerged for purchases. Advertising follows audiences, so those dollars have also shifted elsewhere.

Websites simply aren’t as revolutionary as they once were. They still matter, but they hardly command the lion’s share of attention.

I’ve even seen this in my own company. My product marketing position oversees the website and digital marketing products I worked on for years. I promote them, but not as vigorously as the other products under my purview.

The product pricing is too paltry for me to evangelize those solutions. And I know the insurance agents I market to care more about my company’s higher-dollar offerings.

Add it all up, and those who still rely on the web for a living are left with few options. Charge loyal viewers for access or be left withering on the vine.

It breaks my heart to see this. I grew up on the web. I built my career on the web. I still use the web to share this column with you each week, dear reader. (With no paywall, I might add.)

Still, I understand it all. The web had a good run at the top of the mountain. And it will remain in the picture for the foreseeable future.

But the next big thing is already here. And so is the thing after that.

It would be foolish not to chase after them.

Constants and Variables

His name was Glauber Contessoto.

Sporting wildly matted hair and a thick beard, he stood out from the crowd. Mostly because of his nickname – The Dogecoin Millionaire.

Contessoto, you see, had gone to the extreme with his investing strategy. He had stopped focusing on stocks, bonds, and savings to grow wealth. And he’d put his money into Dogecoin instead.

It was an odd strategy.

Dogecoin, you see, had started as a parody of the emerging Cryptocurrency trend. It was a tender sporting the image of a snarky Shiba Inu.

Much like hippies trading in beads, Dogecoin was not meant to be taken seriously by a wide audience. It was mostly a meme.

But Conessoto didn’t care. He was inspired by the potential of Cryptocurrency. And he went all.

His timing could not have been better. Contessoto’s $250,000 investment grew fourfold in roughly 70 days, making him an overnight millionaire.

This would have been a good time to cash out. To stash the winnings in a nest egg or reinvest them in traditional markets.

But Contessoto didn’t do that. He doubled down on his bet on Dogecoin. And he actively encouraged other investors to follow suit.

What followed next was all too predictable. Cryptocurrency markets saw a correction, and the value of Dogecoin started to plummet. The fall wasn’t quite as steep as the rise, but the tender ultimately lost 90% of its value.

It was enough to make a Dogecoin Millionaire suddenly worth only $100,000. Contessoto’s strategy had most certainly not paid off.

When I was a teenager, I’d often head to the convenience store down the street from school. I’d reach into my wallet for some allowance money, trading that cash for a newspaper and a bottle of Coca-Cola. And I’d stuff those items in my backpack.

I didn’t ride the bus in those days. So, when the last class of the day was over, I’d park myself somewhere in the lobby. I’d pull the brick-like cell phone out of my backpack, raise the antenna and dial my mother.

I’m ready for a ride home, I’d exclaim. Then, I’d put the phone back in my bag and pull out the newspaper and Coca-Cola. By the time my mother arrived, I’d read most of the articles and finished all of the soda.

These days, the waiting game is far less prevalent. I have my own vocation, my own transportation, my own living quarters.

And yet, I do occasionally find myself sitting in the lobby – waiting for a doctor’s appointment or to board a flight. Just like the old days, warding off boredom is my responsibility.

But instead of reaching into a bulky backpack for a newspaper and a bottle of soda, I now reach for my pocket. My mobile phone now fits there with ease. And it can do so much more than dial numbers.

Indeed, I can read news articles, schedule a dinner order, check the weather forecast, and even watch the ballgame – all from my phone screen. And if I need to buy something, I can do it with a tap of the device as well.

My smartphone is now one of the most essential accessories I have. Much of my daily life routes through its screen. And because of that, I always ensure it’s well protected, well maintained, and well charged.

This quantum leap in functionality hit the market in a flash. Apple released its first iPhone while I was still technically a teenager, and it contained many of the same capabilities back then as it does now.

I was only a handful of years removed from holding court in the school lobby back then. I probably could have ditched the newspaper for my phone screen.

But I didn’t.

You see, much like others, I was amazed by what Steve Jobs presented. But I was also disoriented by it.

What changes would I need to make to my daily habits with this new technology in hand? Which rituals would stay, and which would be usurped? How would I measure my own progress in the new normal?

These were tough questions without ready-made answers. So, I waited three years to get my first iPhone. And it took me three more years to cede my entertainment and commerce needs to its mighty screen.

Solve for X.

Those three words were prevalent in algebra class.

I’d long been accustomed to moving in straight lines with my studies. To memorize these facts, to read those chapters, to divide this by that.

Now, I was being asked to solve a mystery. To use the principles of arithmetic to determine what number the letter X represented.

I was annoyed at first. Why was I being asked to go through all this rigamarole? What purpose did it serve?

Perhaps sensing this frustration, my teacher gathered the class.

Algebra, the teacher stated, was not just about solving for x. It was about what X and the numbers around it stood for.

X represented a variable. Something that could be altered as circumstances shifted.

But the numbers around it? Those were constants. No matter what value X held, they would stay the same.

Deductive reasoning relied on both factors, my teacher explained. Change was an ongoing, volatile element of our world. But we could best understand its effects by holding something constant as we sought to isolate the variables.

This description continues to resonate today. In fact, it illustrates my slow adoption of the smartphone ecosystem.

You see, the iPhone might have been able to combine three pieces of technology – and one newspaper – from my arsenal instantly. But it would be a journey to get me there.

I’d need to weigh the changes against the constants to keep from getting lost. So, instead of trying everything at once, I’d adopt features one at a time.

So, my music listening habits would be the first to change, followed by my shopping habits, and my news reading ones. Such sequencing would allow me to systematically address each constant. To try each adaption on for size, and only proceed ahead when comfortable.

Moseying down the pool steps took longer than a cannonball off the diving board would have. But it served me well.

There’s a lot of clamoring these days about disruptive innovation, hot trends, and emergent opportunities. Futurists get plaudits. Nascent solutions get buzz. And figures like The Dogecoin Millionaire get rich.

It can seem as if leaning into the next big craze is the best way forward. As if changing all the variables at once is our only true path.

It’s not.

There is value in expanding our horizons, to be sure. But we’re more likely to maximize that value if we keep some constants in place along the journey.

This is the pattern of change we’re most comfortable with. It’s the pace of change that most fits our natural rhythms. And it’s the approach to change that best helps us hedge against risk.

This approach might not yield us new status, riches, or acclaim. But it will keep us from losing our ability to reason along the way.

And that is certainly a gift worth maintaining.

So next time you’re feeling the pressure to dive in, take a moment to consider the constants. And govern yourself accordingly.

The Year of Disconnect

Another journey around the sun is nearly complete.

While I have made my feelings known regarding our collective reaction to the innocuous changing of a calendar, the fact remains that many of us are quite reflective at this time of year.

With that in mind, I’ve taken a look back at what’s happened in the past 12 months, and what we can gather from it. While life is generally a mix of routine and random events that makes such an activity trivial, I quickly came to realize that this year has had a common, yet disturbing theme.

2016 has been the Year of Disconnect.

The sad irony of this statement cuts deep. We now live in a world where African tribal elders can access the Internet from the palm of their hand. It’s a world built for sharing and instantaneous collaboration. But at a time when technology has allowed us to connect more effectively than ever before, all we seem to want to do is disengage.

Whether we’re talking about the divisive U.S. election, the Brexit vote, deteriorating race relations in America or the seemingly endless parade of celebrity deaths, so much of 2016 seems to have been about the fracture of something once communal. It seems to have been about the loss of trust, decency and respect. About doubt and uncomfortable questions.

This is not the world I want. I’ve devoted my life to building communication, trust and connection because I believe those principles can make the world a better place. Humans are capable of both amazing and horrifying feats. The difference between the two so often lies in how well we can build connections with each other based on trust.

The steps we’ve taken away from connection in recent months have been discouraging, but all is not lost. If we can take heed of the direction we’re heading and make the right adjustments, we can steer ourselves back on course.

For me, this means removing hate from my heart, and from my vocabulary. It means preaching unity, even with those I vehemently disagree with. It means building connections upon empathy, and urging others to do the same.

For others, the tactics to rebuild what’s broken might be different. After all, we are all unique, and each of us has our own tools to build with. But if we can all work toward reinvigorating a culture of connection, we will get there.

Great things are ahead of us. But we must eschew the patterns we’ve championed in the Year of Disconnect in order to achieve them. Let us begin.

Avoiding the Mob

I am no trendsetter.

It took me 4 years to get my first iPhone. I still don’t willingly take selfies. And the next Uber ride I take will be my first.

Yes, I’m old school — a fact that makes my life difficult when I’m trying to buy Nike sneakers that don’t look like a Smurf vomited all over them or a t-shirt that doesn’t belong on Jersey Shore. I choose text messaging over Snapchat, cable over cord-cutting and the gym over a Gluten-free diet.

Why do I live according to the way it was, instead of the way it is? It ain’t for the money; if I’d cut out cable, I might have actually saved me quite a few bucks. It ain’t in honor of Scrooge; it’s too warm to be going around yelling “Bah, Humbug.”

No, it’s because I want to avoid the mob.

Not the Corleone family. The throngs of people losing their minds over the next big trend.

Trendhopping is the national pastime of Millennials — a group I grudgingly am lumped in with by age association alone. It’s how we ended up with Snapchat, Tinder and nonsensical analogies like “Netflix and Chill” (c’mon y’all, it’s barely got anything to do with either one).

Now, trendiness is nothing new. It’s how culture has moved forward over the years (or, in some cases, backward). But it’s a whole new ballgame today. The Internet now allows trends to go viral almost instantaneously, with a vocal Millennial core ready and willing to aggressively usher society into compliance with it.

Look at the recent Pokemon Go craze. In a matter of days, it went from being something outside the realm of our wildest imagination to an activity seemingly everyone was doing.

Much like Evangelicals, Pokemon Go fans boisterously extolled the virtues of the game (“Now the Pokemon craze can cross the generation gap!” “Now we have an excuse to be active and play outside again!.”) while drowning out any concerns raised by the few not playing (including a massive drain on phone battery life and the negative repercussions of continually burying one’s head in a screen while in a public forum).

As a marketer, I find Pokemon Go appealing, even though I’ve never played any form of Pokemon. The combination of a universally accessible product, generation-gapping nostalgia and instant superfans was a home run for Nintendo.

That said, I find mob mentality around the game to be gravely concerning. For even though a fired up fan base obsessed over the next big thing might see no harm in trying to spread the word to the masses like religious zealots, this type of aggressive peer pressure threatens our diversity of thoughts, actions and beliefs. It makes our society homogeneous, and not far removed from our enemies.

“Preposterous!” these evangelical fans might say. “For the platforms, games and technologies we’re pushing are for good, not for evil.”

But the notions of good and evil are subjective. Most God-fearing people have a good grasp as to which actions belong to each quality, but that perspective can be easily manipulated. And if twisted ideals are indoctrinated into a zealous mob of supporters, unspeakable horrors can commence.

Now, I’m not suggesting that the rise of trends like Pokemon Go will turn America into another Axis of Evil, but I can see some unsettling parallels. The continuous rally to get people to join in the craze because “it’s what everyone’s doing” and the lack of regard given to conscientious objectors within the game’s considerably large path are frighteningly similar to the behaviors of authoritarian societies.

I bring this up because the issues the mob of Pokemon Go supporters drown out are actually quite significant — particularly since the game is played in the realm of the real world. There are already multiple reports of people gathering in public parks at dusk to “go hunting,” kids walking through busy neighborhood streets looking for Pokemon and teenagers blindly following their phones into private property — all ill-advised, dangerous ideas. I’ve venheard of an armed robbery facilitated by the game, as well as a serious car-pedestrian crash.

Yet, even in the face of such significant imperfections, supporters of the Pokemon Go trend are all too willing to sweep these issues under the rug — which only serves to lead countless other players into the path of danger. The mob mentality strikes again.

This behavior must end.

We must respect the voices of those who spend their days avoiding the mob. Whether we’re discussing politics, sports or Pokemon Go, we must leave a place for opposing viewpoints. Dissent is not insubordination in a democracy; if anything, it builds tools that can vastly improve the cause the majority is trumpeting. If Pokemon Go fanatics had listened to dissent, we wouldn’t have people falling off ledges trying to “Catch Em All.” The game would be better, and far safer.

So hop on that latest trend. Play Pokemon Go. Buy that new smartphone. Watch the show everyone’s talking about.

But be respectful of dissent. Don’t join the mob.

The Constants In Change

Things ain’t what they used to be.

These days, it seems as if our world is changing at the speed of light. Fifteen years ago, the Internet was still a shiny new toy; today that toy is in our pockets, on our wrists and even accessible in Gabon. The way we travel and live is being reimagined by Uber, urbanization…and soon, self-driving cars. How we live, what we eat, where we shop, who we interact with (and when we make those interactions) — it’s all being revolutionized.

This is far from the first time that a cultural shift has transformed society. The renaissance, the dawn of capitalism, the inventions of the telephone, railroad and car — these have all led to seismic shifts of thought. But something feels different this time, arrogantly different. And frankly, it’s a bit frightening.

You see, the trail towards our Technocultural Revolution was paved by those who didn’t just break the rules of conventional thought, but instead blew those rules to bits. Tech giants Apple, Microsoft and Facebook were created by college dropouts — and opinionated college dropouts at that — who weren’t going to let the rules of the past interfere with their visions of the future.

As a result of this thinking, Apple, Facebook and Microsoft — along with companies such as Google and Amazon, which were actually founded by college graduates — took the world by fire, redefining norms not only for technology, but also corporate society. (Look no further than the proliferation of startups to see my point in technicolor.) This is all fine and good on a basic level, but the imprint these companies have left on our culture is a double-edged sword.

Too often today, there is a prevailing attitude that the past is wrong. As a new generation of adults settles into urban apartments — and eschews the car, cable TV and other amenities for smartphones with access to Netflix and Snapchat — they quickly wage war on the world they’re leaving behind. While suburbia might be inefficient, gas guzzlers might be bad for the environment, and red meat and gluten-rich might not be the healthiest dietary choices, this ain’t exactly the Jedi/Sith showdown our now-dominant culture is making things out to be. As a suburbanite with an SUV and a hankering for a home-cooked steak every now and then, I can attest that the old ways can work just fine. And countless people were able to meet, fall in love and get married long before the advent of Tinder.

This ultra-defiant attitude young adults display toward the norms of yesterday is obnoxious on its owns. But as it spreads to other sectors — such as commerce and politics — it becomes extremely dangerous. In the midst of the race to reinvent culture, the rising leaders of today would be wise to remember the past — even if only to avoid repeating it.

Take a look at what’s happening right now. Many young adults might not care that oil prices and Wall Street are in a tailspin — after all, their life choices have led them away from a dependence on both. But recessions affect everyone, irreparably damaging both lifestyles and futures. “Outsider” Presidential candidates (on both sides of the aisle) threatening to bulldoze and redefine our federal government might be seen as the saviors of a “broken” Washington, but let us not forget that this was exactly the scenario that led the the rise of Nazi Germany. (Think that’s too far off-base? We already have one extremely popular candidate threatening to remove Muslims and Hispanics from our nation.)

It’s naïve, selfish and shortsighted to think that throwing out the past in favor of the future will lead to the world singing Kumbaya around a campfire. The world simply doesn’t work that way. Instead, it’s important to have some constants in the process of change, as all that which came before us could help us better define what comes after us.

As we move forward, our collective boat should navigate the crests of change with the swells of constants. This way, we all may adapt and thrive, instead of capsize and drown.