In my view, these sorts of tweak reflect social sites’ implicit bias towards increase and accumulation: more followers, more content, more activity. Arguably, just giving such prominence to follower/followed numbers encourages the ‘bigger is better’ mindset of quantification and comparison. In the world of Twitter, we’re always gaining, always growing, always getting more.

More ≠ better

However, from a user experience viewpoint, growth is not necessarily improvement. It can just as easily mean dilution, or fragmentation. Building a quality Twitter feed is as much about filtering and rejecting as it is about adding and exploring.

Nothing stays the same for long, particularly in digital. Personally, I want my Twitter feed to be more like a ‘current faves’ playlist than a monolithic, ever-growing collection of every CD I’ve ever heard.

When it added the lists feature, Twitter seemed to be conceding that many people’s feeds had become too large and unwieldy to be useful without some sort of filtering or categorisation. Yet the overall focus is still on ‘more’ rather than ‘better’ (let alone ‘less’).

Negative news

A notification of who someone else has followed is of limited interest really. All it indicates is that someone is trying out someone’s feed – so by definition, it’s far from being a recommendation based on full knowledge. In a way, ‘negative’ news – notifications of other people’s unfollows or blocks – would be far more useful (as would an ‘#unfollowfriday’ hashtag).

This sort of social ebb and flow is part of life. We meet people, join groups, hang out, and see how things go. Sometimes we stay together, and sometimes we drift apart. With research showing that most people have only five really good friends, it’s clear that we need to let go of the less-valuable relationships to devote our attention to the ones that matter. Severing a tie that helps neither party isn’t ‘negative’ – quite the opposite, in fact.

Argument amplification

Also, hearing about ‘negative’ events would appeal to our very human desire for gossip, disagreement and conflict – both observing others, and participating ourselves. Social sites are curiously prudish about the ‘dark’ side of their experiences, preferring to pretend that we are all happily following and retweeting each other with never a cross word spoken. But, again, argument and anger are part of our lives – so why shouldn’t they be a part of Twitter?

Now, some people would rightly argue that the dark side of social media has been all too apparent on occasion, with people jumping on hater bandwagons without thinking. (I documented one such occasion in this post.) But maybe people would think twice if sites had built-in mechanics to highlight their more ‘negative’ actions. And, at the end of the day, a website is just a medium – people write the Tweets.

Digital insulation

The ultimate step would be providing news of our own ‘dislikes’ – the people who’d decided to unfollow or block us. Some people in my feed seemed unsure about this, and I can see how it might be upsetting.

But the reality is that some people like us, others don’t. Some people stick with us, and others drift away. While there’s no need to obsess over our ex-friends (or outright enemies), it’s equally unhealthy to shut them out of our worldview completely, just because a digital platform allows it. In the real world, we’d probably still have to deal with them on some level – seeing them down the pub, or hearing people talk about them. Why should the digital world be so different? Is it really healthy to want sunshine all the time?

A balanced view of the world takes in decline as well as growth, dark as well as light and, yes, death as well as life. The social sites, and our experience of them, should reflect that.

It wasted our time

I’m not saying social media delivers no benefit. Fun can be had, opinions shared, friendships formed, contacts made, business won. But most social media is like the first pint out of the barrel: 95% froth. For every useful or gratifying transaction, we have to wade through acres of footling irrelevance – other people’s, and our own.

There seems to be a conspiracy of silence about this in business circles. No one talks about how many hours they’ve sunk into social media, as if those thousands of Tweets and replies somehow didn’t take hours to think up and type.

I can only presume that the employers of some of my Twitter friends deployed a similar doublethink when they drafted their social media policy. Or maybe they’ve decided that legislating against social is like Canute ordering back the waves. Either way, I guess they’ve decided to disregard the many hours that their people spend on marginally relevant Tweeting in work time.

The truth is that social media is a formidable time-sink, delivering questionable returns on the hours we put in. Just ask yourself: does your social media time seem well spent? Do you feel you’re investing your time, or frittering it away?

It spoilt us

Social media brings the rolling, never-ending format of modern current-affairs TV to written media, presenting us with a stream of links to fascinating posts and pages from which we can pick and choose.

Sadly, as Thomas Paine noted, ‘that which we obtain too easily, we esteem too lightly’. When it comes to it, none of those writings are actually quite interesting enough to read to the end, or perhaps even click on in the first place.

When you look at our passive, lazy consumption of digital media, the term ‘feed’ seems completely apt. The more delicacies are laid on our table, the less grateful we become.

It humiliated us

Social media pulled a major bait-and-switch on us. First it kidded us that we were worthwhile. Then it rubbed our faces in our own inadequacy.

The very format of social sites, based around personal ‘updates’, made us feel that every detail of our lives was worth sharing. Social media gave us a new layer of self-consciousness: the restless search for something we can share.

Before long, we were casting about for things to post or Tweet that would make us look interesting or cool. But when we posted, we quickly saw that there was always someone cooler and more interesting out there.

I used to think I was quite funny. Now I’m getting ground down by the way Twitter has the perfect smartass comeback for absolutely every life situation, news story and cultural event. In the same way, dauntingly intelligent comments on news sites are eroding my ability to form opinions on current events. Forced onto a global stage, the ego withers like an old sprig of parsley.

It made us needy

Phil suddenly realised there was no wi-fi at the hotel. How would everyone find out what he thought about The Apprentice?

Humans are naturally social animals, and have always craved the affection, recognition and respect of peer groups. But social media straps a rocket to that instinct – and not in a good way. It allows us to build networks far larger than anything we could maintain in the real world, and cram far more interactions into our daily lives than would otherwise be physically possible.

This has two results. One is dilution of experience, as the ‘currency’ of interaction is debased. As Umair Haque argues in this brilliant article, social media is characterised by ‘thin relationships’ conducted via ‘low-quality connections – linkages that are unlikely to yield meaningful, lasting relationships’.

The other result is addiction. As our interactions are watered down, we need more of them to get the same hit. Social media use becomes a psychological crutch, just like using nicotine, alcohol or caffeine. Checking our @ replies, counting followers or retweets, checking Facebook updates – all easily become compulsions. And all the more so because they’re so easy and convenient to carry out – with a smartphone, the means of addiction is always to hand.

The acquisition and comparison of numbers and totals (followers, friends, RTs) adds an extra edge of digital materialism. Who’s got the most?

Most users would admit to some level of addiction to social media. Recently, Ofcom found that 60% of teenagers admit to being ‘highly addicted’ to their smartphones, primarily due to Facebook use. And we’re still talking about services that offer only the most basic means of interaction – posting messages, replying, sharing and tagging photos. Tomorrow’s social media will be to Twitter and Facebook as heroin is to cannabis.

It wound us up

Social media gets us all steamed up by exposing us to two kinds of opinions: those we like, and those we don’t.

Confirmation bias means we tend to build networks of people we agree with – single-issue Facebook pages being a prime example. Frequenting such networks validates and entrenches our opinions, as we see the same views expressed over and over again.

In some contexts, extreme views are inflamed as people incite each other to go one step further and say the unsayable. We saw this most recently with the response to the UK riots, as Twitter users whipped up each others’ desire to see brute force used against citizens, more to gain revenge rather than to restore order. At heart, the mass hysteria of the commenters wasn’t so different from that of the rioters – it just wasn’t expressed physically.

If we do find an opinion we disagree with, chances are we will have the opportunity to respond to it online, which draws many of us into that blind, righteous anger that characterises so many online comments and reactions. The more we read, the more extreme our views get – the phenomenon known as attitude polarisation, which forms the basis for Godwin’s law.

Discussion and disagreement are part of life. But the nature of social media – anonymous, hard to stand out – turns the volume up to 11 on everything. Instead of chatting with a few friends round a pub table, we’re deluged with an infinite digital cascade of industrial-strength opinion. Unable to digest it, we’re left with an unhealthy residue of acid emotions – coupled with a weird alienating distance from our digital interlocutors.

It shattered our attention

Zen teaches that concentrated mindfulness of the here and now is the way to enlightenment. Truth is not somewhere else, but can be found in the sights, sounds and people that are present, right now.

Social media delivers the exact opposite, diffusing and fragmenting our attention over a multitude of ‘somewhere elses’.

The next time you walk out on a beautiful sunny morning, check out how many people are scurrying along hunched over their phones. Or observe the couples having lunch, each with a phone on hand for that side order of interaction to complete their meal. What did we do before we had these crutches? Did we just walk when we were walking, and talk when we were talking, and think when we were thinking?

It hardly matters, because there’s no going back. We’re never alone – and even when we’re with someone, we’re always with someone else too.

The idea of getting a second helping of social is apt, because digital media has become rather like food for us. It’s not hard for us to get as much as we need, or find whatever we want. It’s about choosing what, when and how much is healthy for us to consume.

It’s not too late. Social media is still young. But pretty soon, we’re going to need to stop obsessing over what all the great things we could do, and start thinking about the better things we should.

Believe in better

actually mean? I’m not really sure, but to make sure I wasn’t being deliberately obtuse, I asked my Twitter feed what they thought. Here are some of the answers (not all serious, natch):

• Tim Rich (@66000mph) reflects both their desire to be seen as innovators (we’re NOT the BBC) and the way technology is changing TV. Vague though.
• Dan Adams (@danadamstweets) just a paraphrase of ‘expect more’ but with some alliteration thrown in for good measure?
• Zakaullah Khan (@balinor) Sounds campaignable, but incomplete… Believe in better programming, believe in better content, etc


I can't believe it's not better

• Rob Wright (@Copywrighting) It – sincerely – says to me is ‘we’re not great right now, but stick with us, ‘cos (trust us) we will get it together for you’
• Stella Eleftheriades (@stellamedia) I always want to say believe in batter #cakeonthebrain seriously tho gives idea of going extra mile, more personalised service?
• Alasdair Murray (@Alconcalcia) Got no idea what ‘Believe in better’ actually means. Who, if anyone, believes in worse? The coalition perhaps.
• Andrew Nattan (@Mr603) It means you have to close your eyes and believe really hard to think it’s worth paying for over Freeview.
• Lydia Nicholas (@LydNicholas): Externally: TV should be better, if you believe this, make an act of faith and pay for it. (so paying is a brave stand for quality). Internally- there is a more efficient, TV business & organisational model than those inspired by BBC.
• Kevin W (@CreativeCopyKC) Believe in Better? Sounds like they’re pitching improved quality (both HD picture and higher quality programming)
• Ash_Humby (@AshHumby) For me Believe In Better is Sky’s attempt to sum up the Sky experience, in a similar way to BBC iplayers Making The Unmissable Unmissable.
• Peter Baruffati (@peterbaruffati) What you are viewing may be bad, but don’t lose hope.

The range of answers confirms that, while it may or may not be effective, the slogan is certainly ambiguous. In my view, the meaning is unclear because the language is deliberately unfamiliar and clunky.

Finding clunky

A similar effect is achieved with Bupa’s current slogan:

Helping you find healthy

I didn’t ask for views on this one because I think the meaning is clearer, but it’s still been twisted slightly out of shape with unorthodox language. (In passing, note that Bupa are using the clichéd ‘we understand/that’s why’ ploy that I highlighted in this post – perhaps to redress the balance?)

Both this and the Sky slogan create a jarring effect by using adjectives as nouns, which is disorientating. We believe in fairies or democracy, but not ‘better’. We need help finding our car keys or a way forward, but not ‘healthy’.

‘Better’ and ‘healthy’ are positioned as nebulous metaphysical states that we can aspire to; the diffuse language creates (or tries to create) the impression that there’s something special or amazing about watching telly or buying health insurance.

And this is, of course, part of the seemingly endless trend for brands to be more soft and friendly, sucking up to customers and wheedling their way into their lives at every turn. Social media’s got a lot to answer for.

Awkwarder than yesterday

Another example is put forward by copywriter Kevin Mills, in his post Stumbling over copy. He cites an outdoor campaign by Fitness First featuring the line ‘Our members are fitter than yesterday’.

As Kevin notes, this is a very unfamiliar phrase. To me, it sounds like it might have been translated from French. Again, this leaves the reader slightly disconcerted and uncertain, just as they might be if a non-native English speaker came up and asked the way to the station of trains. The meaning is clear, but it’s been expressed strangely – which means the impression that stays with you is strangeness, rather than the benefit of being fitter.

Unspoken words

As they stand, these three phrases are classic cases of things that get written, but would never be spoken aloud:

• ‘I’m going to get a Sky dish because I believe in better.’
• ‘My BUPA doctor’s really helping me find healthy.’
• ‘I’ve started going to Fitness First, and now I’m fitter than yesterday.’

However, these brands aren’t going for a Ronseal-style vernacular vibe. Instead, they’re aiming for differentiation through language – using unusual construction to imply that they themselves are exceptional.

Does it work? Does the unusual slogan stick in the mind – and does that lead to a sale?

In his post, Kevin suggests that using an unexpected or unusual phrase could make an ad more memorable. I think much depends on whether it gets ‘filed’ in the zone of the reader’s mind you want it to – whether it goes in a mental category marked ‘curiosities’ rather than ‘things to buy’ or ‘things to find out more about’. My worry would be that an unusual construction would just be deleted from the reader’s consciousness because it didn’t fit the rhythm and tone of their internal monologue.

Do different

It would be easy enough to discover, with A/B testing, which slogan produced a stronger response. However, with the Sky and BUPA examples given above, I’m not sure that a desire to be understood, or even to drive sales, is centre stage. We’re in the realm of brand-building here, where the overall impression is more important than the immediate real-world result. (With Fitness First, there’s a strong suspicion that the effect is the result of carelessness rather than strategy, as Kevin notes. Of course, a campaign might still be good by accident.)

The Sky slogan, interestingly, was explicitly oriented towards internal marketing as well as external – generating an ethos and vibe within the organisation as well as outside it. It’s Sky’s own staff who are exhorted to ‘believe in better’ too.

However, I think there’s another important audience: other marketers. Whenever a campaign has a flavour of wilful differentiation, there’s always the suspicion that the client has got a bit bored of their own marketing, perhaps even embarrassed by it, and wants something out there they can really feel proud of. Something clever, edgy and modern. And what better way to signal your superior intelligence than with words that no-one’s ever spoken, or even thought before?

This type of shit won’t hit the top ten
But we won’t bend – we won’t switch off, pretend
Rebel MC, lyrics to ‘The Governments Fail’, 1992

I love this couplet, which guarantees the outcome it describes. Acknowledging that his revolutionary stance and street-tuff sounds will never find a broad audience, the Rebel defiantly turns his music’s marginality into a virtue. ‘Those who have ears to hear, let them hear,’ is the implicit message.

It's like Public Enemy, but with dreads. And not quite as good

By quoting these words, I’ve taken a similar approach. My peoples will see them as confirmation of my edgy, urban flow. Playa hatas, on the other hand, will probably regard the mild profanity as uncalled-for, gauche and a little embarrassing. Either way, the tactic will probably get a reaction. It is, quite literally, divisive – drawing a line between those who are drawn to my tone and message and those who aren’t.

Who cares?

This kind of tone is all about knowing who cares about your message, and who doesn’t, and targeting your tone of voice accordingly.

The corollary is that you have to be able to define these two groups with reasonable accuracy. For some products, that’s easy. For example, consider the slogan used by children’s medicine Calpol:

If you’ve got kids, you’ll understand

Cosily alluding to a tacitly shared experience for parents, it’s unbearably smug and mimsy for everyone else. But that doesn’t matter, because the product has zero appeal to anyone but fretful mums and dads.

Similarly, check out this slogan from Konectbus, one of our local bus operators:

Sunday is a day of rest shopping

I think this must be borderline offensive to committed Christians, since it essentially rubbishes one of the Ten Commandments. (Imagine a similar tactic with Allahu Akbar: ‘God is great – and so are our travelcards!’) But since the faithful won’t be heading for Chapelfield for a pair of Levi’s and a flat white on a Sunday, Konect has obviously decided they’re not worth fretting over. (However, these Venn circles aren’t completely separate – Christians might be keen shoppers on other days.)

Finally, UK readers may recall the infamous slogan used for Pot Noodle:

The slag of all snacks

The TV spots using this phrase were banned in 2002 when 310 complaints were received by the ITC. Even though the number represented a tiny minority of viewers, the ad still got pulled, and had to be reworked with the far weaker phrase ‘sounds dirty, and it is’. This inspired slogan, which surely got a big smile and strong recollection from anyone likely to buy the product, was too divisive for its own good.

All these slogans focus on converting their most likely prospects, which is always a good idea. There’s really no point targeting people who will never be interested, regardless of what you tell them. So don’t kid yourself (or let your client kid themselves) that you can magically expand the product’s appeal with your words.

Diluting the message

In other product categories, where absolutely anyone could be a target, the message has to have a more universal appeal – which is how we end up with slogans like ‘I’m lovin’ it’, where the meaning has been spread so thin that it has absolutely no depth.

However, catering to an audience segment that isn’t actually that important to your brand can quickly drawn you into deep water. In the online arena, the most embarrassing manifestation of this was Gap’s self-abasement in response to the reception for its new logo, which I documented in this post. Hypnotised by social-media flaming like a rabbit in the headlights, Gap completely forgot who its customers were, and where it actually sold its products, leading the firm to bottle its carefully considered strategy to refresh a tired high-street brand.

Trenchant Tweeters

Social media is another area where a highly idiosyncratic tone of voice can reap dividends. On Twitter, for example, you’ll find a host of marketers putting out a bland, me-too stream of news items and retweets from their peers, casting the net wide in the hope of attracting a broad audience.

But the ‘please like me’ tactic is self-defeating, because it offers no differentiation. Often, it’s those Twitter personalities who offer trenchant opinion, industrial-strength language and combative interaction who attract big, loyal followings.

Grumpy old trolls

On blogs, too, you’ll often find writers stirring up strong opinion in order to position themselves as leaders rather than followers – often becoming ludicrously grumpy or confrontational in the process. Sometimes, this is the expression of a genuinely held opinion, aimed at a sympathetic audience who will understand. At other times it’s pure trolling, throwing the content cat into the commenting pigeons with the aim of maximum impact (and SEO benefit).

Opinionated writers can also boost exposure by appearing as ‘fish out of water’ guests, offering a sharp contrast with the prevailing tone of the host site or publication. For example, have a look at Christopher Montgomery’s pieces for the Guardian. For readers weaned on well-meaning but interminable liberal hand-wringing, his mix of perfidious Cameron-bashing and unrepentant Thatcherism feels excitingly spicy and forbidden – repulsive and compulsive all at the same time. Putting his opinions on the Guardian is like putting Mentos into Diet Coke – a sure-fire recipe for frothing indignation.

Value over appeal

Unless you’re actively seeking a contrary reaction, choosing the right tone of voice is all about generating maximum value – as opposed to maximum appeal. You’re looking to cultivate interest and loyalty from a specific group, which usually means being yourself without going out of your way to offend. At the same time, though, it’s always worth bearing in mind that your target audience may prefer to hear things in a way that others really don’t like. Get the balance right and you can make lots of friends by making a few enemies.

Having indexed everything ever written, Google has taken the logical next step and introduced Google Life, its technology for scanning our thoughts, memories and dreams.

‘Google is great for finding out who played bass in Showaddywaddy, how many pounds there are in a monkey or Inspector Morse’s first name,’ notes Mark Snips of Google. ‘But, until recently, it was no help with finding your car key, remembering the name of your niece or putting a name to that restaurant in Madrid you really liked.’

Now, people who find Bing by Googling ‘bing’ can bring the same staggering laziness to their own thought processes.

‘Many Google users are frustrated that they can’t Google the contents of their homes, lives or brains,’ says Mark. ‘They don’t see why they should have to memorise personal facts when they haven’t had to remember anything about the real world for over ten years. And that’s the next frontier of development for us.’

Telepath poles

Some observers feared that the mind-scraping indexation process might be intrusive, or even painful. In fact, no surgery or physical intervention is required.

Instead, Google will be installing 100m-high antennae at intervals of 10–20m in all residential areas. The poles emit a muted hum, a cheery green glow and a low level of non-fatal radiation. Each one bears a humorous variation on the Google logo. The company hopes that the so-called ‘mind-masts’ will occupy the same place in the UK national psyche as old village signs, or red telephone boxes.

‘Brain-spidering’ occurs once an hour and is detectable only by a slight tingling sensation around the base of the skull. Users may also experience some hallucinatory phenomena, anecdotally compared to the sense of life flashing before one’s eyes. ‘It’s really no worse than an acid flashback, or a mild psychotic episode,’ says Mark Snips.

Share your thoughts

Having been scanned, the raw mental data is transmitted to Google’s processing centre. ‘Obviously, we need a way to separate the wheat from the chaff,’ says Mark. ‘For example, although Twitter users might disagree, you probably don’t need an online record of every shave, cup of tea or visit to the loo you’ve ever had. But at the same time, some of those everyday experiences might have sentimental value. So we’ve developed a proprietary algorithm to rank memories based on how many times they’ve been recalled, and with what emotional intensity.’

A Google 'mind-mast' in a residential area

Once prioritised and encoded, your favourite holidays, proudest work achievements and most exciting romantic encounters can all be viewed online. Users can comment on and rate your memories and dreams, or share them through social-media networks.

Mind contents are made public by default, although users can opt to restrict access through a simple system of 57 privacy options. ‘In 2010, Facebook showed that people don’t really care how their most intimate secrets are being shared with billions of strangers,’ observes Mark. ‘And that means we can leverage these mental assets commercially, through a range of channels.’

Taste the future

To kickstart the development of so-called ‘head-apps’, Google plans to make brainscan data available via an API. ‘Once your brain’s IP address is paired with that of your browsing device, the potential is incredible,’ enthuses Mark Snips. ‘For example, a takeaway ordering site like Just-Eat would be able to offer you a menu tailored to your past eating patterns, current mood and available gastric capacity – even if you’d never visited the site before. It’s a real game-changer, bringing the functionality of the Nutrimatic Drinks Dispenser within the reach of every website.’

However, interpreting the raw data is likely to prove challenging. ‘It can be a problem filtering out all those thoughts that aren’t relevant to the task at hand,’ admits Mark. ‘But even that opens up immense potential for interruptive marketing attuned to what people are really thinking about. The owners of adult and shoe-retailing sites are very excited.’

Fantasies and hopes about the future are also indexed, so women going on dates can Google their suitor and discover exactly how he’s hoping the night will end. ‘You can also liven up boring meetings by checking what your colleagues are thinking about you on your iPhone,’ Mark explains. ‘It brings a whole new edge to performance appraisals.’

Infernal desire machines

However, past thoughts can only offer so much insight. The next stage of Google Life development is Data-driven Desire Prediction, or DDP. ‘Using thiotimoline batteries hooked up to our servers, we can now deliver search results before the user has even decided what they need at a conscious level,’ reveals Mark. ‘Holiday tickets, DVDs and new clothes will simply arrive, unbidden, at the exact second you first realise you want them. And with the installation of a special code snippet in your brain, you can even learn the exact time and circumstances of your own death – then post it on Facebook.

‘It’s a truly inspiring vision of the future,’ reflects Mark. ‘Nothing, anywhere, will be just your own – ever again.’

Top bloggers are forever calling out their audience, and I don’t see why you lot should get off lightly. So man up, knuckle down and get to grips with your own crushing inadequacy. You just bought yourself a can of whup-ass!

You don’t work hard enough

Feeling tired? Boo hoo. Stressful day? Wub wub wub. Entire family killed in air crash? Talk to the hand. You managed to whip up a recipe for under-achievement with just one ingredient: your own overriding laziness.

Meet Henry, the only guy who sucks harder than you

Those ten-hour days you’re so proud of? Newsflash: the other guy’s been putting them in too. And getting back on the horse in the evening for another ten hours. And pulling down another ten before breakfast.

That’s what it takes to get to the top of the heap. So ask yourself a question. Where do you want to be in five years’ time? And if the answer’s ‘having a nice sit down, drinking tea’, you need take a look at yourself. A long, hard look.

You’re doing social media wrong

Earth to Twitter user, hello? Is this a broadcast medium? Did I show interest in your dull-as-ditchwater product launch? You’re not placing an ad in the Sleepytown Chronicle, Grandad. Join the conversation!

Oh, I know the tale. You sell haemorrhoid cream, and no-one wants to admit they even know your brand, let alone ‘like’ it on Facebook. It’s time you woke up to the new marketing reality. Forge relationships, create two-way dialogue and engage your audience – before your competitors do!

Oh, and please stop spamming hashtags and retweeting yourself. You’re ruining Twitter for the rest of us. The ones who get it.

Your website’s rubbish

It may have taken you months and months of careful deliberation and painstaking work, but that doesn’t mean it’s gonna convert jack.

Your landing page sucks. Make it longer. Then test it rigorously. Then make it shorter. Then read 500 sure-fire ways to turbocharge your conversion rate. Then test again. If you want to make money while you sleep, you’d better start worrying while you’re awake.

I guess you’re wondering why no-one cares about your blog? Why you don’t get any comments? I know, I know. It’s hard to get your head round. Let me make it as simple and clear as I can. No-one reads or comments your blog because it’s so completely rubbish. Feel better?

It’s time to wake up and smell the content. And by ‘content’, I mean something remotely original and informative, not your derivative, candy-assed mumbling about some product or service. Why don’t you set yourself 101 blogging goals to achieve?

One last thing. Did someone not get the memo about list posts? Pantywaist!

You’re too negative

Yes, you are. You’re always moaning, making lame excuses for your own lameitude. ‘I got fired.’ ‘My wife left me for my secretary.’ ‘All my limbs were amputated by mistake.’

Guess what? I. Don’t. Care. If you’re not being positive, each and every day, you’re bringing negative energy into my life. And I don’t tolerate that.

You haven’t got enough money

I don’t care if you have somewhere to live, enough to eat and adequate leisure time. If you’re reading this post, you clearly don’t have enough money.

As a serial loser, I guess you think that your pathetic earning capacity is down to ‘the economy’, rather than your own weakness.

Well, let me ask you this. Who created the recession? The government? The banks? People who were already rich driving up asset values through property speculation, supported by irresponsible lending?

Wrong. It was you. Now get out of my face and achieve something!

• Thanks to Andy Nattan (@Mr603) for the links.

A droll little sentiment perhaps, and no less satirical for being true. It wasn’t even that original, having much in common with an earlier tweet by Kevin Mills (@bravenewmalden). My concern for Egypt’s future, though certainly sincere, sadly did not originate before the blanket news coverage of the recent protests. And, like many others, I’d have been hard-pressed to name the country’s president a month ago. (I probably could have managed its capital city.)

Having got that off my chest, I went off to have my lunch. Little did I suspect that, by the time I returned, that little Tweet would prove so resonant as to gather around 50 retweets. One of them was from UK comedian Sue Perkins (@sueperkins), who has 75,000 followers, which seems to have put the whole thing into overdrive:

A few people had actually commented on the tweet, but there were so many more messages quoting it that I could hardly find them. I realised I was getting an insight into how the @ mentions of people like Stephen Fry and Kanye West must look, all the time.

I couldn’t really believe what I was seeing. Then I got a message from TrendsUK, informing me that @tomcopy was now trending in the United Kingdom:

Sure enough, when I clicked through to the site, there I was, sitting proudly atop the trends list – a ‘breaking’ trend, no less:

At this point, a dizzy sense of unreality descended. Just as the revolutionary spirit had swept through the streets of Cairo, so my dryly ironic comment on it was taking the UK by storm. Soon, everyone would know my name. I’d be recognised on the street – indeed, leaving the house might well be impossible, with so many adoring fans pressed desperately against the windows. A millionaire several times over, I’d be looked up to in awe as a cultural arbiter of formidable prescience and power. Women would want me; men would want to be me.

In fact, all that was happening was that a few people were pressing a button on a computer screen because they liked a gag. But it still felt weird that this little tweet had taken on an independent life of its own, pinging around the world from one personal network to another. Was it part of me, or had it broken free somehow?

I expect you’re wondering what a Twitter celebrity does with his Saturdays. Well, the answer is that he goes into the garden to clear up some fox poo and bounce on a trampoline with his daughter. Yes, incredible as it seems, my family’s ignorance of Twitter meant I could sustain this double life for the whole afternoon. And besides, I try to stay grounded. The street is what made me who I am, and I try to stay in touch with it; it gives me power.

When I came back in, I found that the Tweet was still gathering retweets (including one from US comedian Tom Green, @tomgreenlive), and had passed the 100 mark, becoming  a Top Tweet on a search for ‘Mubarak’:

But by 5pm, the mentions seemed to be drying up. A solitary tear crept down my cheek, then fell, forgotten, like yesterday’s trending topics. But I’ll always treasure the memory of my brief season in the sun. And one day, some day, I’ll be back…

‘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’.

Remake yourself

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.

About.me had yet to be invented, so Narcissus made do with his garden pond

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.

Pointless inflation

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…

For sole traders like me, it’s a chance to muddle up our brands and our personalities even further. For multinationals, it’s another playground where they can deploy colossal marketing spend to bolster their already formidable advantage.

And for some of those in between, it’s all a bit perplexing. What is this exactly? Why are we doing it? And who are we talking to? But peer pressure is a powerful thing, so they gamely get with the programme and Twitter up. I just wonder what they’re really thinking…

9am. I notice that, as usual, I’ve received a number of friendly direct messages from people I followed yesterday. They arrive so quickly that I sometimes wonder if the people have some sort of servant to do their Tweeting for them. Nevertheless, I dutifully reply to each one, saying that I’m looking forward to their Tweets too. Social media’s all about reciprocity!

10am. In summer, the sun comes round the house next door and shines on my monitor, so I close the blind. Sometimes the noise of the birds singing gets on my nerves too, but my double-glazing keeps it out.

11am. This is the time when I catch up with all the blog posts and articles I’ve been told to read. And there’s so much great content out there! Sometimes I’m not sure if I need to read another ‘how to’ guide for social media, but I plough on anyway. You never know, there might be something new in one of them today.

12pm. I grab some lunch. Normally, my choice is prompted by an image someone else has uploaded of what they’re eating. It saves me thinking for myself. If I can’t get hold of it – for instance, because they’re eating in an achingly trendy Soho noodle bar – I just munch a slice of bread while staring at the image on the screen. It’s just as satisfying.

1pm. The afternoon hours are my time for making money online. What? You didn’t know it was possible? Well, it is. Just go to Twitter and you’ll soon see. I’ve already signed up for hundreds of MLM schemes, affiliate marketing programmes and wealth-generation systems, and I’ve bought so many e-books I’m going to need TWO iPads, one for each eye. And I’m pretty sure that once all these systems start kicking in, I’m going to be seriously rich.

4pm. A quick trip to the shops for bread, milk and Optrex, during which I make sure to Tweet my location. I’ve been burgled three times this year, but it’s a small price to pay for everyone knowing where I am.

5pm. Time to RT a few good Tweets and answer some questions people have posted, like you’re supposed to on social media. Got to take care of your circle! Sometimes, friends call round for me about this time, but most of them have got fed up with me Tweeting on my phone during conversations, so they don’t bother.

9pm. Towards the middle of the evening, I can get a bit down in the dumps. Sometimes it just seems like everyone else on Twitter is wealthier, wittier, more interesting, more passionate about their work and more… well, social than I’ll ever be. Maybe if I had a few more followers, things would be better? But there’s no room for doubt or anxiety on Twitter – it’s just smiles and positivity all the way. So I force a , Tweet ‘goodnight’ to my Tweeples and get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be another long day…