7am. I wake up, turn on my mobile and check in at Twitter for my daily dose of inspirational quotes, motivational thoughts and self-improvement wisdom. Very soon I’m feeling supercharged for another day of relentless material wealth-seeking, with a kooky New Age veneer. Sometimes I wish I could just sit down for a while, but no-one on Twitter seems to take it easy…

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…

As you can see, I’ve got a ‘follow me’ button in my navigation, so Twitter is one click away from every page on this site. And that means that visitors’ experience of my online presence might include a sharp variation in tone. Depending on my mood and willingness to Tweet at any particular point in time, a potential client might step from my carefully crafted corporate content to a confession of Cheddars addiction, a sarky comment on last night’s TV or (if they’re lucky) a throwaway observation about search marketing or online copywriting.

When I’m comparing my unique visitor stats to the number of leads I get through the site, this thought gives me pause. Are visitors put off by my Twitter content, or perhaps even this blog? And more broadly, does social media – even when done exactly as the gurus suggest – invariably enhance reputation?

Talking to strangers

Everyone understands that different online media require different tones (I’ve covered it in this post). For most businesses, Tweeting in the same voice as you use on your corporate site would be absolutely deadly, resulting in a desperately dry, po-faced and self-centred feed. While competitors were asking their customers what they did on Friday night, you’d be Tweeting about your dull-as-ditchwater product launch. You’d have no followers, no profile and no ROI.

Does careless talk cost reputation?

However, what works for friends and followers might look strange to newcomers. A prospect clicking through to my Twitter profile will see my last Tweet prominently displayed in 28pt type. If that Tweet is frivolous, or even offensive (a subjective judgement, after all), it surely won’t make a good impression. At the very least, the positive ‘he has a personality’ points could easily be offset by a ‘not very professional’ penalty.

I serve clients from all over the world. What would a visitor from Russia or El Salvador make of a conversation about liking cheesy biscuits, on Monday morning, from someone who presents themselves as a professional? In fact, what would a UK visitor who just didn’t know much about Twitter think of it?

For me, casual Tweets are the online equivalent of having the radio on in the background when you answer the phone. Some people just aren’t going to like it. That’s why, when I remember, I’ll try and make sure that I leave the feed with something relatively sensible or useful at the top, like a retweet from @econsultancy. Sure, it’s inauthentic, but it feels safer.

Unseen damage

I often point out to clients that a poor website can do serious harm to their reputation without them necessarily being aware of it. A site riddled with ancient content, inconsistent formatting and spelling errors won’t have the phone ringing off the hook with complaints. Instead, visitors will come, form a negative impression and leave – almost certainly without comment. If they judge by appearances – and why shouldn’t they? – you’ll simply never hear from them.

When I view some firms’ websites, I’m astonished at the substandard content they leave online for years on end, apparently oblivious to the impression it’s giving. If I work with such firms, it often transpires that they are aware of the problem, and plan to sort it out. But with no negative feedback from the prospects that got away, there’s no sense of a ‘burning platform’ to force them to act.

Reputation bomb

With that in mind, consider a Twitter feed that’s easily accessible from the home page, or actually visible on it (as it should be, according to the received wisdom). It could easily be a reputation bomb primed to explode.

If you’re an active Tweeter who combines business and pleasure in one account (as most sole traders and SMEs do), you’re Tweeting stuff you’d never dream of publishing at your main site (humour, politics, personal life etc) on an hourly basis. And if you don’t mix in some personal stuff, your feed will be too dry. Who’s to say a fantastic prospect might not click into your feed at a time when it shows something catastrophically trivial?

I’m relatively paranoid about Twitter. I aim for friendliness, humour and relevancy and set myself strict rules: no politics, no swearing, no arguing, no boasting about work, no chat about clients. (The one evening I did Tweet about politics, I lost a follower for every Tweet I posted.) But many Tweeters don’t police themselves in this way, giving their language, feelings and reactions free rein. I respect that – after all, I’ve argued before that we should market honestly and be ourselves in social media. But some Tweets are so pointed that they elicit a sharp intake of breath as you read them. Does the author really want those words online?

Broadcasting trivia

We’ve all seen the alarmist, ill-informed articles in mainstream media about the perils of Facebook, when in fact it’s easy enough to restrict access to your page (or at least it was, until the privacy options started to look like this). Twitter, as most people choose to use it, exposes your posted content far more widely.

Each Tweet lives forever at its own URL, and Google now searches Twitter in real time, more efficiently than ever before. And it might not index the Tweets you want it to. For example, my highest-ranking Tweet on a search for my name (mercifully on page 2) is this effort (presumably because of its keyword density for ‘Tom’):

Not offensive, but hardly inspiring, and undeniably trivial. On balance, probably not a URL I’d want a prospective client to see. And it could have been worse.

But it doesn’t end there. You can opt to have your Tweets syndicated to third-party sites. One such is LinkedIn, surely the most pin-striped and buttoned-down of all the networking sites. It’s a place where serious job-hunting and reputation-building is the order of the day (along, it seems, with an ever-increasing volume of discussion spam). But depending on when a potential client or employer visits, your carefully edited CV could be gatecrashed by the most hasty, drunken, offensive Tweet you’ve ever Tweeted. That’s why I haven’t, er, linked in my Twitter profile to the site.

Imaginary walls

In my experience, although most people’s Twitter accounts are unprotected, in practice they still Tweet as if their accounts were somehow private – everything is ‘between friends’ in terms of both content and tone. Others go further, treating Twitter like a confessional, or even a diary – despite having thousands of followers. Certainly, many Tweets clearly originate with the urge to unburden rather than the need to communicate.

You might regard your Twitter account as more ‘personal’ than your business content, with a clear division between the corporate and social worlds, but in reality the distinction may be largely in your head (and not in your client’s).

This can apply to other types of social-media content as well. Many of my blog posts, for example, are primarily of interest to other copywriters, marketers or media professionals, and not really aimed at general business readers (i.e. my potential customers). Sometimes, the resulting comment discussion will stray into areas, such as pricing, where an honest response isn’t something I’d really want my clients to read. So, as with Twitter, I have to think carefully about everyone who might be reading, rather than imagining there’s some kind of invisible wall between my main site and the blog. It’s important to remember that anyone could be reading anything, at any time.

What do you think? Should we worry about the reputational risk of social media, or have we entered a new, more relaxed age where saying something online is no different from saying it in the pub?

• Thanks to Sarah Turner of Turner Ink for the conversation that inspired this post.

I’m always amused by the savage beatdowns that are meted out to firms who are perceived to have failed in social media (see this page on Nestlé and Facebook for a recent example). What do people expect? At the end of the day, it’s one person doing the Tweeting or the wall-writing. They’re at work, not relaxing at home, and they’re obliged to ‘be the brand’ online. It can’t be easy. And if you push them far enough, they’re bound to snap.

Personally, I welcome it. At least we know they’re human. What’s the alternative? Everyone loves to flame the failures, but would we really be happier with a smoothly oiled PR machine, trotting out relentlessly positive, shallow responses to critical tweets, like a politician?

Although social media has a diverse user base, there’s a recognisable ‘SM personality’ that seems to predominate: young (or young at heart); generally positive; informal; chirpy (bordering on facetious); marketing and new media literate. When people berate companies for having the ‘wrong’ social media voice, they usually mean that the company in question has taken a tone that’s too far from this norm. But if your firm’s true ‘personality’ doesn’t conform, should you affect a different tone of voice to fit in?

Many firms have struggled to find their voice in social media. Some have rather stiffly adopted it as a purely ‘push’ channel, conducting a monologue rather than a dialogue. Some, like Habitat, have been hauled over the coals for underhand techniques. And some, like ASOS, are blessed with enough photogenic, web-savvy, Twitter-literate staff to give them all usernames and let them loose (see @ASOS_Amy, @ASOS_Nat and others).

A while ago, I blogged on the topic of honesty in marketing: the idea that by promoting a message that accurately reflects what the organisation is really like, we can be more congruent, more confident and (I believe) more effective in terms of reaching new customers. So why shouldn’t firms’ negative character traits come through in their social media? It may not fit the rigid stereotype of ‘engagement’, but perhaps it’s more honest in the deepest sense.

Feeling pleased with yourself? Want to tell someone? Well, Twitter always listens. But shameless self-promotion might not endear you to your followers. So use these five proven techniques to burnish your rep without burning your bridges.

• Creeting. Creeting, or ‘creepy tweeting’, means retweeting a high-profile Twitterer so you can bask in their reflected glory. So what if you didn’t really understand (or even read) that abstruse piece on A/B testing, canonical URLs or Facebook user profiling? Retweet it anyway, you’ll look incredibly clever and might get a mention from someone with 100,000 followers.
• Busyness. Want to show how indispensable you are, or how many clients you’ve got? Simply disguise your boast as a moan about workload, information overwhelm or client pressure. Don’t worry, everyone will get the message: only the talented are as busy as this.
• Proxy boasting. Sometimes others say the things we think, but can never say. So if your offspring, colleague or client has paid you a glowing but perceptive compliment, get it on Twitter. It’s reputational gold and, after all, you’re only quoting.
• Egocentic gratitude. If you’ve been RTd or #FFd by multiple Tweeters, make sure you thank them all in one monster tweet. It makes you look incredibly popular and, if you’re thanking RTers, you’ll probably drum up extra interest in your past Tweets. (And yes, I do this all the time.)
• Reflected enthusiasm. No-one really needs to know that you’re loving Alain de Botton’s latest whimsical fluff, or how much your guests adored your summer berry sabayon. But cultured interests make you look fantastic, so Tweet away. Your all-night Steven Seagal marathon, fuelled by Stella and Wotsits*, you can keep quiet about.

* US/Canada readers, please substitute ‘Coors and Cheetos’

Yesterday, I held a party on Twitter to celebrate reaching 2000 followers. Many of my fellow copywriters and creatives turned up – as well as a few gatecrashers who were in a position to Tweet about Watney’s Party Seven, vol-au-vents and ‘bifters’ (whatever they are) at 3pm on a Tuesday. Thanks to everyone who turned up.

Oh, my head. Where's the Alka-Seltzer?

It was great fun and it also gave me a chance to try out Tweetdoc, which allows you to document Twitter events (or just a set of Tweets mentioning a given topic) by capturing Twitter searches in a PDF document. The PDFs are nicely formatted, with all the participants’ avatars shown on the first page and a neat list of all the Tweets (in forward or reverse chronological order). You can view or download the PDF for #tomsparty here.

And for those who couldn’t make it, my apologies – I’ll think more carefully about the timing and give a lot more advance notice next time. But I think it’ll be a few months before I hit 3k…

• This is a guest post from Louis Venter of search marketing specialists Mediavision as part of Be My Guest month.

In my opinion, one of the key areas of concern within SEO circles is the enormous amount of SEO fodder that is being pumped into the internet to influence search rankings.

This doesn’t seem to be stopping either, with new services being launched to “rewrite” vast amounts of articles and distribute them online becoming almost mainstream.

At SES London recently the content was described as “not Pulitzer-prize winning”. I would go as far to say that a great deal of it is complete and utter crap that does nothing to build a client’s brand or reputation.

Now while I don’t believe that all of these articles currently hold the same value within Google’s algorithm, I do think their search quality team will attempt to address this problem as quickly as they can. The main question, though, is how.

My gut feeling is that they will use a social footprint to establish whether or not to count the link love to the destination website. They already have deals with Twitter and Facebook to crawl their posts in near-real time, and with these two platforms being two of the primary sources of content sharing at the moment it gives Google a fairly accurate picture.

Google will obviously have to address Twitter spam, which seems to be rife at the best of times. Given their early attempts at real-time search, they clearly don’t have a handle on how to measure social influence accurately, but these are early days after all.

Which brings me round to Buzz. Despite the obvious privacy issues, Google has placed a lot of resource into Buzz and this shows their hand a great deal in my opinion. I would not be at all surprised if Buzz was aimed at delivering a social footprint for the search quality algorithm. One obvious use for this data would be to separate the signal from the noise in online PR.

What should SEOs be doing to counter this?

Well, firstly, the rules of PR haven’t changed. Write great informative pieces of content that will attract links on their own. Make sure that these pieces of content are easily shareable and Tweetable and promote the content in the same way as you would promote your client’s site. Understand that everything you do is online PR and not just writing. The PR aspect of that is key.

If you manage to do this successfully, and Google do manage to clear out the noise, you will be sitting very pretty indeed.

Yesterday, I was approached by startup content mill Copify and invited to register as a copywriter. I decided not to, since the rates being offered (2p–4p per word) didn’t really stack up for someone with my experience (15 years).

Out of interest, I sought the opinions of my copywriter friends on Twitter, including @Mr603, @turnerink, @NoSloppyCopy, @shelovestowrite, @PenHire, @sarahcopywriter and others. Turned out a heated debate was already raging, with copywriters’ opinions ranging from the doubtful to the derisive, and many focusing on the fees.

Of course, we can’t really argue that any price agreed in a free market is ‘too low’ or ‘too high’. If both parties agree to make a deal, a deal is made. However, we can question whether the transaction represents good value – for buyer as well as seller.

I have no axe to grind with Copify or the other (mainly US) content mills out there, such as Examiner, Suite101, Associated Content, eHow, and DemandStudio. They’ve seen a gap in the market and they’re filling it. Good luck to them. However, I feel I should point out exactly what copywriting clients won’t be getting when they go down this road…

1.    Ability. Sounds painfully obvious, but there’s such a thing as writing skill, and people have varying levels of it. If you’re a UK white-collar professional using a content mill, you could be delegating your copywriting to someone with abilities only as good as (or worse than) your own. So what have you really gained?

2.    Experience. 2p a word does not stretch to a seasoned copywriter. But why should you pay for experience? All I can say is that the ‘broad but shallow’ knowledge picked up during my career has served my clients very well. Ideas from clients in other industries. Print techniques that work online, and vice versa. Ideas on ecommerce, SEO, social media and more. Ideas on improving value propositions. Ways to save time – and money. It all adds up – and you get a professional manner, calm demeanour and sense of humour thrown in.

3.    The right price. If you need to spend more, you should spend it. If my plasterer discovers rising damp, I want him to tell me, not just cover it up. Let’s say I’m working on a fixed-price job for a content mill. The client has directed me towards out-of-date sources. Halfway through, I realise this, but have no incentive to raise it since there’s no way to renegotiate the fee. So I just cut and run, having fulfilled the letter of the contract. The content is inaccurate, and some valuable learning is lost.

4.    Enough time. Closely allied to cost is the need for adequate time. Many copywriting projects throw up unforeseen issues. ‘The subject is more complicated than we thought.’ ‘There’s more to say.’ ‘Our structure needs work.’ ‘We need to rethink terminology.’ ‘Our industry jargon won’t work for SEO.’ ‘We’ve identified a new market segment.’ The professional copywriter works with the client to address these problems – with a time implication, yes, but what’s the point in rushing to the wrong destination?

5.    Reassurance. So you’ve chosen to use a content mill. Presumably you’re completely confident about factual accuracy, grammar and spelling, copyright and fair use, trade marks, US/UK language conventions, Google penalties, duplicate content and the legal implications of publication. If not, why not work with a professional whose reputation is on the line with every single job?

6.    Flexibility. Inspired by The E-Myth Revisited, I once dreamt of creating a one-size-fits-all ‘system’ for handling writing and design projects. I soon gave up. No one needed it, or wanted it. Marketing should be a bespoke suit, not a T-shirt from Asda. Savvy clients appreciate that service and expertise pay for themselves.

7.    Rapport. Clients who tender copywriting job by job never realise the benefits of working long-term with a copywriter who truly understands them. For them, every step is the first – every piece slightly off the mark, lacking sparkle, bringing nothing extra. They’ll never feel the thrill of receiving text from their regular copywriter that absolutely nails everything they wanted to say, and more – first time. (For a regular client, I recently wrote the president’s introduction to a brochure with no brief. He approved it without change.)

8.    Creativity. The fixed-price deal actively discourages discussion, consideration and indeed active thought. The copywriter’s only hope is to bang that copy out quickly and pray she doesn’t get RSI. She certainly has absolutely no incentive to put forward anything creative, inventive or alternative, even if it could help the client. The risk is just too great that it will be rejected – leading to a rewrite, obliterated profits and aching wrists.

9.    Intelligent SEO. Even basic SEO copywriting is an art – hitting keyword density targets for multiple terms without grammar and sense collapsing completely. But competent SEO copywriters take it to the next level, offering content that actually appeals to humans too. In other words, a landing page that isn’t a bouncing page.

10. Motivation. When prospects ask what I’d charge for ‘an hour’s graft writing fresh copy’ (a genuine quote), they are perhaps puzzled as to why their enquiry fails to excite my interest. The reason is that I prefer to strike a civilised, mutually beneficial deal in an atmosphere of respect, friendship and dignity. With that in place, I’m motivated to give my very best to the project. Without it, you’ll get ‘good enough’, but no more.  

Now, the most likely objection to all this is that it’s completely irrelevant to article marketing, or the creation of banks of SEO pages. I beg to differ. For articles posted at Ezine Articles and similar sites, your best chances of republication (propagating backlinks across multiple domains) come with a compelling, high-quality article. Better to have one killer piece than five embarrassing duds. And for SEO, as I’ve argued, you need your landing pages to convert the reader, not just attract traffic.

I also feel there’s a big cloud hanging over the in-vogue strategy of gaming the search engines by posting huge amounts of nominally relevant content, hoping to boost link velocity and backlink numbers. Google’s business model depends on search results that are relevant and deliver genuine value to users. Historically, it’s never failed to weed out any attempt to reduce quality to a formula, or mere gruntwork. Would you bet against it now?

Earlier today, Stephen Fry (@stephenfry) ‘gave up’ Twitter after his Tweets were described as ‘boring’ by another user (@brumplum). Apparently the criticism came at a bad time, and he felt he’d had enough. But which of us hasn’t felt this way about Twitter at one point or another?

After all, it encourages so many unhealthy mental habits. Follower envy, and the compulsive craving for more followers. A tendency to be always ‘elsewhere’ in our minds, Tweeting strangers instead of listening to – and caring for – the people in our real-world circle. But that’s just in our own heads. What about the social problems of social media?

The Twitter pummelling received by Nick Griffin, leader of the BNP, was both inevitable and vociferous. Trending for several days, the stream of overwhelmingly negative comment gave the impression of thousands of individuals venting a fierce dislike of Griffin and his values.

Yet how many of those Tweeters were expressing original sentiments, and how many were – quite literally – following the trend? Twitter makes it so easy to endorse or amplify views on subjects you might never have considered that deeply before. Even if you’d never heard of Carter-Ruck or Trafigura, you could get involved in a ‘social media movement’. With just a click, you can add your voice to the braying of the mob.

Nobody was that bothered about Griffin’s treatment, since so many people detest his views. But the criticism piled upon poor @brumplum for his ‘boring’ comment was a different matter. People created lists of people they disliked, just so they could include him. It shocked @brumplum himself and embarrassed Fry, prompting both to try and lay the issue to rest.

It’s always been possible to criticise people with impunity online, but nothing puts your insult in their face quite like Twitter. And it’s so easy and quick to do. At least in Lord of the Flies, the boys had to gang up and physically push a rock to kill Piggy. Now, we just push a mouse button, all alone. And since we’ll never meet the people we’re criticising, why not make it incredibly harsh? Maybe get a few more followers that way.

We’re probably not going to stop using social media – not even Stephen Fry. But many of us might need to start thinking about where it’s taking us, or what it’s turning us into.

Positive beliefs are very important. As Henry Ford said, ‘if you think you can, or if you think you can’t, you’re right’. While optimism and belief aren’t everything we need in order to achieve, we’re unlikely to achieve much without them.

No-one who uses Twitter much can be unaware of these ideas. Maybe it’s because of the followers I’ve chosen, or the typical profile of many Twitter users (sole traders, freelancers, consultants, coaches, trainers, marketers), but positivity is very much the order of the day. Most days, my Twitter feed is crammed full of inspiring quotes, motivational sentiments and success stories.

And that’s fine. Better that than doom and gloom. But is this relentlessly upbeat worldview really representative and balanced? Is it true?

From time to time, I’ve noted that some opinions expressed on Twitter are at odds with what I know those Twitterers really think. Clearly, they felt they had to put a positive shine on their sentiments for the world at large. Why?

Into each life some rain must fall

For Buddhists, transience (or ‘impermanence’) is the defining characteristic of our experience. Nothing is permanent or fixed; everything is shifting and changing. The seasons revolve around us; the weather changes from day to day; our moods and perceptions are constantly changing. Our lives are shaped by comings and goings – people, relationships, homes, jobs and situations all come and go as we move through life.

Transience is usually the product of movement or tension between polar opposites: day and night, rising and falling, happiness and sadness, hope and fear, growth and decline, life and death. We label ‘rising’ and ‘growing’ events as ‘good’, while ‘falling’ or ‘declining’ events are ‘bad’. We have a very strong preference for the ‘good’ side, so we try to bring more ‘good’ things into our lives, or hang on to them, and avoid the ‘bad’.

However, if we’re honest, we know both sides of transience are inevitable and, in their different ways, essential. We need rain as well as sun. We can’t be growing, profiting and succeeding every minute of every day. Even death is a part of life; decline or decay prepares the way for renewal.

So we shouldn’t be afraid of acknowledging our doubts, fears and failures in our social-media lives. In my view, it would make the Twittersphere a much richer, more balanced and fulfilling place to be – one that reflects every side of us, not just the parts we think are ‘good’.

Dependent origination in the Buddhist cycle of life

Freelance copywriting (or any freelance work) can be a lonely business. Obviously, you write alone. But you also do your marketing, your finances and your planning alone. Not to mention your worrying – over deadlines, volume of work and pricing. And, of course, nobody understands. No-one else knows what it’s like to deal with criticism, non-payment, timewasting, mind-changing and downright rudeness – alone.

But social media has changed all that. Whereas before I might have known of one or two other copywriters – the ones I’d met through my salaried positions – I now ‘know’ many more, all around the world. I put ‘know’ in quotes because knowing someone through Twitter or a blog is not the same as knowing them for real. But it still feels enough like friendship to dispel much of the loneliness of the long-distance freelancer.

On the face of it, these other freelance copywriters are the competition. And this is true to the extent that freelance work is a zero-sum game (if I win, you lose, and vice versa). There is only one BP annual report, and only one writer can write it. There are only ten positions on page one of Google. There is, perhaps, only so much work and so much money to go round.

But this rather reductive viewpoint is just one way to make sense of the chaos that is the freelance marketplace. And, because we always remember that the map is not the territory, we are free to choose another way of seeing it.

For example, we could choose to believe in abundance: there is plenty to go around, and we can all share it. In this view, everything we do brings something new and unique into the world, with the power to create value and wealth. Work (or life) is not a race or a competition, but a collaborative creation – a never-endng play with an infinite number of actors. (Buddhists will note the parallel with the doctrine of paticcasamuppada, or dependent origination).

Web 2.0 enables us to share so much more – ideas, opportunities, resources and support. Ultimately, perhaps, it can even facilitate ‘co-opetition’, where nominally competing businesses or individuals realise they have more to gain from working together (at least in some areas), consciously shaping their industry rather than letting it emerge as the result of an unbridled, Darwinian free-for-all. This opens the door for achievements such as industry standards, best practice and (sometimes) a tacitly accepted approach to pricing that effectively freezes out undercutters. I wonder how far down that road our use of Twitter might take us.