‘I’m too much with myself.
I wanna be someone else.’
Lyrics to ‘My Drug Buddy’, by Evan Dando
Have you heard about the site about.me? Have you signed up? It’s a brilliantly basic idea – put together a simple, nicely designed page all about yourself, with links to your various online presences (Twitter, LinkedIn, Flickr etc). You can see my page (a work in progress) here.
About.me appeals to your inner narcissist. The format of your page invites (indeed, requires) you to use a whopping ‘hero’ image of yourself as a background. (You really need a professional shot for best results.) As the name suggests, it really is all about you. A shrine to the self.
For people in or around digital media, particularly freelances and consultants, this sort of rampant self-promotion seems to have become the norm. Investing significant time and money into your online branding, which still seems faintly self-indulgent to me, is completely natural to younger generations. It’s become part of ‘marketing yourself’ and ‘developing a personal brand’.
When I arrived at university, a fellow fresher confidently proclaimed that ‘everyone’ called him Cinderella, or Cinders for short. (He was into heavy rock and had a Brian May hairstyle.) A few weeks later, his brother visited. Turned out he’d never heard the nickname before. Cinders, whose real name was Phil or Alan or something, had realised that different contexts offer the perfect chance to refresh your personal brand.
The digital world is just the same. It lets you define or refine your own character, creating a sort of semi-fictionalised version of yourself for public consumption.
Better than reality
When I hook up with people I’ve met on Twitter, I’m sometimes struck by the differences between their social-media persona and their actual character. Specifically, it seems that some people downplay their melancholic or cynical sides on Twitter, much as you would at a party or social gathering. Others seem to go out of their way to be more in-your-face than they really are, perhaps as means of self-protection.
I asked my Twitter followers if there were any differences between their online and offline personae, and received a range of answers (not all of them serious, naturally):
@regtubby many years of difference but beginning to see convergence. I doubt they’ll ever be the same. The real me rarely appears online.
@AndyDBryant Try to keep it the same, although that’s contradictory given I willingly hide behind a cartoon character profile pic :/
@wordetc I think before I tweet. Unfortunately the same can’t be said for when I speak!
@timcaynes my online personality gets out more
@eph_bee it used to be, especially as a teen… the advent of twitter changed that a lot – much more similar now.
@shakirah_dawud I keep certain things back as a professional. No more than I would in office, tho, so I guess I’m about the same all round.
@norwichmag We definitely swear less when tweeting, which is a good habit to get into.
@NexusWords Not different, just narrowed. Filtering ensures all is business-friendly, but I think keeping my humour (albeit PG) is important!@Mr603 Not discernibly. I’m snarky, sarcastic and faux-authoritative offline too. Although I spend less time courting potential links
Papering over the cracks
Can online persona compensate for character flaws?
It’s certainly possible to build a business even if you lack confidence in some areas – witness my own well-documented aversion to networking. I’ve been amazed by the insecurities held by some of my clients, even after they’ve made millions. Online presences afford the opportunity to paper over such cracks and present a flawless personal image to the world.
Leading copywriter Mike Reed (@reedwords) shared sentiments very close to my own:
After 17 years in the business I’m just starting to get to grips with the idea of introducing myself to people at events.
I’m naturally a shy person, although I’ve grown out of the absolutely painful shyness I had as a youngster/teenager. But I am good with words, given the time to think them through.
This is why I love email – unlike the phone, one can organise and refine one’s thoughts before communicating them. Likewise, online I can come across as far more confident/nonchalant/snappy than I ever am in person, because I have a facility for written language.
I’m likely to be a bit mouthier online than I am in person, because I’m not faced with a real human being who I’m concerned about offending.
People sometimes bring up things I’ve written online, and I almost cringe at how bold I was… But this is good – it pushes me into being more confident in the flesh, into having the courage of my convictions and speaking up.
Mike paints a picture of a medium with very different rules from face-to-face interaction – but one that opens up some new opportunities and ways of being. Which can only be good.
A little Tweet infamy
Film-maker and marketing pro Matthew Carrozo (@carrozo), who I think could fairly be described as a ‘Twitter personality’, also sent me some interesting perspectives.
[My Twitter persona] is very much an extension of who I am, but far more of a personal caricature than who I “really” am.
I can tell stories, rise above my station and be very verbose or very cutting. It’s a desire to share what I’m already thinking… with a greater digital hive mind… It’s also a desire to gain attention and adulation from strangers. That’s the artist in me.
Twitter in particular is a stage for performance… Some post under pseudonyms to say all sorts of ludicrous, libellous and lame things, like a comedian doing an act “in character”, which gives all sorts of freedoms… Others are obsessed with “personal branding” and struggle to gain headway with happy-go-lucky, sycophantic and self-censored content in attempt to please everyone, which of course appeals to no one.
All the people I admire and respect in the public eye step out of line to make comments that go against the status quo… fascinating people say weird, wonderful and offensive things that make us think a little differently about long-held assumptions. To stand out, to be counted in the age of the individual, you do have to say things that stand out.
Matthew’s view of Twitter is a forum where bland, me-too content won’t deliver any outcomes – perhaps not even the humble ambition to be liked. To succeed, at whatever level, we have to amp it up a bit.
I can certainly relate to what he’s saying. Since I began using Twitter, I’ve started to look at a lot of my experience through the lens of 140-character updates – asking myself, in very many situations, ‘could I tweet about this?’ But I only do so if I can make the event funny or memorable somehow – that is, if I can make it worthy of my online self.
I haven’t deliberately set out to create a false online persona. But it’s kind of happened anyway. Because I enjoy writing, blogging and coding, I’ve developed this site way beyond what’s really required for a sole trader. It’s become a monster. (The only possible justification is SEO.)
Before Christmas I was contacted by a major – and I do mean major – multinational brand, seeking tone of voice training. Unfortunately, I’ve never really done any genuine tone of voice work – all I’ve done is write a few blog posts about my ideas on tone of voice. And that wasn’t a one-off – I’m often contacted by people who think ABC is a 50-person company.
The reality, as my real-world acquaintances know, is rather more humble: one rather tired guy, pushing 40, receding hair, typing away in a spare room. With a green carpet. With a hole in it. (Sorry for spoiling your mental image of me as a thrusting, dynamic young webpreneur.)
It’s flattering that people think I’m bigger and better than I am, but it isn’t really a whole lot of use. I’ll never be able to convert big-name prospects – not for a few years yet, anyway. In strict business terms, dealing with such enquiries is a complete waste of time, and rather depressing to boot. So is there really any point in inflating your online brand if it makes you look ‘too good’, or better than reality?
Me, myself and I
It seems there are lots of reasons why people make their online personae different from their real selves. For some, it’s just about professional courtesy and a ‘work’ tone of voice. For others, it’s about being someone online that they perhaps can’t be in person. And some feel that an exaggerated or provocative stance is essential to cut through the noise.
For my part, I’m becoming a little uneasy about the way the ‘online me’ is developing. Sometimes I think he might be hogging too much of my attention; soaking up precious cognitive resource. Sometimes I worry that he’s too self-regarding, too mercenary, too cynical. Sometimes I despair that he’s just not funny, creative or popular enough. And some days, I just don’t like him that much. Perhaps we need a little time apart…