21st Century Photography: Filters and self-destruction
[This piece originally ran on Medium in the collection 'Best thing I found online today.']
I took an Art History class as an undergraduate at the University of Michigan.
Any student who opts into The History of Photography (which filled absolutely zero graduation requirements) is at least partially motivated by a romantic image—a liberal arts education, discussions of art and beauty and nostalgia, a classroom in an old library or art museum.
To turn a semester into a sentence: the course was nothing like the romanticized fantasy; it was an exercise in memorization—photographer, title, and date—and any discussion at all was simply the professor singling out a scared student attempting to hide behind a Macbook Pro.
I still remember a few powerful photographs from that class. The names escape me; but when I see them, I recognize them.
For the most part, however, memorizing a date and a title for an exam did little to help me process and internalize the works of the world’s most famous photographers.
Knowing thousands of images for a brief instant wasn't enough. The exam ended and the photo disappeared from memory.
This was my first experience with the idea of temporary photography.
I often photographed friends or an activity. I remember frequently thinking, in the instant when the shutter closes: this could be good, this is a moment I’d love to look back on. And right afterwards, when I would review the picture, I’d think about the finished product: I wonder how great this would look in black or white.
Rather than living the moment, I was already trying to determine how I would produce it.
Since college, my interest in photography has grown increasingly digital. I have albums on Facebook and Flickr—montages of past trips and life events. However, for the most part, the pictures I take today are snapshots on my phone—quickly uploaded to Instagram, occasionally sent to friends via text, email, or even SnapChat.
With my iPhone’s camera powerful and readily accessible, and a community to quickly share the resulting images, I began taking more pictures.
These photos race across social feeds and were rapidly consumed (or missed, or glanced over) by my friends and family. Although I keep some to be printed or saved, I take many more photos now and they seem to disappear even more quickly—just like those that I crammed into my memory for my final History of Photography exam.
A second experience with the idea of temporary photography.
As a generalization, people love memories.
We’re nostalgic for our first loves—a kiss, a dance, a snow-day, the birth of a child.
People also love the idea of simplicity—specifically, of longing for a more simple time. Every generation pines for the past.
We try to capture this longing for nostalgia through filtered photographs and carefully planned images and posts.
The filters themselves do not create nostalgia—filters are just an editing tool—it’s the act of spending a moment in the present constructing an artificial past that’s led us here. This is about the community and quantity of eyes instantly on our pictures rather than the influence of sepia-toned filters.
However, as we take more and more pictures like this, those images feel increasingly common—and in that, valued less.
These photos might feel temporary—quickly disappearing from various social media feeds—but they are not. The are trapped within their frames and cellphones and servers and desktops.
Despite this permanence, photos now have less staying power.
My favorite essays to read are those that I wish I had written.
Pieces that you’d like to quote but realize you can’t because every line is so intuitive and powerful that you’d end up replicating entire pages.
The best of these essays pull together thoughts and ideas from various corners of your life and show you something simple or profound or a conflation of the two that you had never previously put together.
Today, interests from various corners of my life collided in Nathan Jurgenson’s fantastic piece, Pics and It Didn't Happen.
Photography. Technology. Life. Reflection. Predictions.
In an effort to not paste the entire essay here, I’ll leave one passage and encourage you to immediately go and read the rest here.
If everyday photography becomes temporary photography — if more people switch to apps like Snapchat and Poke — photos saved to more permanent locations like Facebook will become correspondingly more scarce and perhaps seem more important. Photographs taken and shared as temporary will impart more meaning to those chosen to be permanent. In the age of digital abundance, photography desperately needs this introduction of intentional and assured mortality, so that some photos can become immortal again.
A continuation of this brief series on content. To the third question...
3) Content is an incredibly abstract term, what does this 'year of content' even look like as a product?
To tackle the final question, I'll post a series of examples. The following is (a short list) of companies/products that have content as a core strength.
Medium -
Here's how co-founder Ev Williams describes the idea behind Medium in one of the site's first posts:
It’s not too late to rethink how online publishing works and build a system optimized for quality, rather than popularity. Where anyone can have a voice but where one has to earn the right to your attention. A system where people work together to make a difference, rather than merely compete for validation and recognition. A world where thought and craftsmanship is rewarded more than knee-jerk reactions.
Truth be told, we’re just starting the journey of figuring out what all that means. We have an amazing team with a ton of relevant experience, but we’ve built just a sliver of what we have in mind. And we know it will be a learning process as we go.
The most simple way to describe Medium for those who haven't seen/read about it is by the way people have parodied it.
What interests me most about Medium (aside from the quality of writing--remarkably high) is its potential.
The team is experimenting and expanding in a way that pushes the limits of what we currently think of as an web-based writing tool and product to aggregate/consume content.
I've often found blogging to be fairly static. Medium's posts are not seen as still pieces in isolation; they are grouped in 'collections'.
Each collection can function as a place for discussion. One can explore multiple viewpoints on a given topic.
This is smart.
As a writing platform, the process is incredibly seamless. Tools and editing software is built into the drafting page and while the features are limited--creating a similar aesthetic across the site--they are simple and incredibly easily accessible.
This is also smart.
I'm excited to continue to be pleasantly surprised as the team roles out new features and redefines how we optimize online publishing.
[Full disclosure: I was invited to contribute writing to Medium's current Beta version. So, I suppose that I have an interest in the site beyond casual observer. Truthfully, this interest is limited to a strong early connection to the product and their Obvious Corp sister site, Branch.]
Made Movement -
Made Movement is a marketing agency dedicated to supporting a resurgence in American manufacturing.
I believe in on-shoring--that manufacturing will return to American soil.
The story here is simple. Made Movement and other companies have proven that consumers will pay for specific, strong content.
Content, in this case, refers to 'high quality' and 'Made-in-America' branded goods and apparel.
Made Movement built a site, The Made Collection, that curates goods and the stories behind them from various American manufacturer.
This fantastic use of content differentiates the collection from ten thousand other ecommerce sites.
I know that many sites and stores have been and will continue to fill similar niches. This case stands out for me for two reasons:
1) I believe manufacturing in America will be an important economic theme in the coming years
2) The Made-in-America aesthetic is centered around the idea that this content is high quality and valuable--two important components in understanding the tangible value of content
Stores that focus on content--on products and the quality, stories, and experiences that define them--are well on their way to becoming the future of ecommerce.
A Drink With -
Chicago's A Drink With is based on a simple premise...
The two founders, Kelly and Hillary, have a drink with Chicago's 'most fascinating entrepreneurs, chefs, celebrities, artists and athletes.'
That drink turns into a feature--part prose, part photography--of the conversation.
Kelly and Hillary do amazing work. They've sat down with individuals from a diverse array of backgrounds and turned a drink into interesting, relatable, and intimate stories.
[Credit: A Drink With]
Over and over again I've heard friends mention their love for A Drink With.
There's not a better compliment in the world for a company or product than having their users/consumers/partners feel an emotional connection with the brand and market it to friends without prompting.
A year ago, people shared Business Insider and Huffington Post click-generating slideshows to friends. These headlines are crafted to grab attention, and the content is often poor.
A Drink With is catching on and spreading because the content is the opposite--incredibly strong. And as an added bonus, the design is clean and attractive--helping signal just how valuable and interesting the features are.
So, why is 2013 the year of content?
Because a year ago we were reading articles in isolation. We struggled to find published material of depth and quality, designed and collected in a way that was visually pleasing and that encouraged consumption and conversation.
Now we have Medium.
And because a year ago, many would have viewed online shopping as an terrible experience, a source of cheaper goods and ugly user interfaces.
Now we have sites like the Made Collection (and countless others) that feel like personalized boutiques. We can find the goods we want and content that provides curated recommendations and stories about those goods.
And because a year ago, I had to click through a slideshow of the 20 most interesting people in some field or another.
Now I read beautiful features on an amazing city and passionate group of people on A Drink with.
Our interest in technology is in the business of technology, and the competition between technology companies and their products. But our belief in technology is the belief in non-incremental change. Not in emergent form factors or paradigm shifts in venture funding, but change in our culture, our politics, our laws, our experiences, and ourselves.
- Tim Carmody in the Verge feature "Memory to myth"
Brilliant.
The concept of non-incremental change is an incredible motivator and force.
It's been written ten thousand times that the world resists change.
Well, I know a lot of very smart people who have risked traditional careers and jobs to pursue a passion for technology. Why is this different? Why is the world fascinated with great entrepreneurs? Why are we really invested in this ecosystem?
The belief in non-incremental change.
High risk, high reward.
We want to work on problems and products and solutions that have the potential to create meaningful change.
Disruption. It's overused and in every tech headline of the past 24 months.
Technology empowers fundamental change and disruption It leads to products and solutions that are 10x or 100x better than what was previously imagined, not just 10%.
There are big problems to be tackled. We haven't even scraped the surface of what's possible in industries like education and health care.
The belief in the possibility of this potential is empowering.
This isn't a new concept. We see this everyday.
When you step on a college campus, new freshman are brimming with excitement--the possibility of people to meet, interesting classes and clubs to join.
The possibilities feel endless, not incremental; and that excitement--the belief in the power of education and the future--is palpable.
We see this when starting a new job or when our favorite team begins a new season. The future feels non-incremental.
We're not thinking of one game or one project, we're immersed in the belief of all that is possible.
And technology? Technology takes this to another level.
The potential for change--change that scales the world and empowers new industries and businesses and ways of thinking and living--is tangible.
In the last decade we've been introduced to new software and hardware (first consumer-focused, and more recently enterprise-based) that changes the way we live and work.
Unlike in the past these changes are cheap, accessible to the masses, and accelerated. One year, hundreds of millions of people are working on PCs...a few years down the road, billions are consuming content on smartphones and tablets.
Pipe dreams become a reality when non-incremental change is made tangible.
The belief in technology is the belief in non-incremental change.
They tellin' me I'm the rapper for these white kids / 'Cause black kids can't possibly like the same shit.
- Childish Gambino in Break (All of the lights)
It's hard to write complex characters for a half hour television show.
Girls, the HBO show created and directed by Lena Dunham, has its fair share of critics. Much was made of the fact that the show's first season featured very little in terms of racial diversity.
The second season introduces us to Sandy (played by Donald Glover): a black, Brooklynite, Republican who is dating the show's lead, Hannah (played by Dunham.)
While Glover was cast before the public criticism, his choice proved interesting. Dunham describes:
We cast Donald because of a love of his work. But having such a conscientious person with so many particular opinions on the topic, it seemed only correct that we should play around together on that.
Donald raps a lot about his relationship to being like a hipster black guy and the fact that he’s been in like a very white comedy scene and a very white like indie music scene — he has that lyric about being the only black guy at the Sufjan Stevens show — so he had a lot to say on the topic.
The casting of Glover (who also goes by Childish Gambino as a rapper/singer) highlights the importance of understanding the nuances that comprise a character's complexity.
It's easy to stereotype the Glover's music ("nerdy rapper for a white audience.") But this would be a huge mistake and generalization. His music reaches a much larger audience.
As an artist, he also can't be illustrated by a particular definition. He's a comedian, writer, musician, and actor. We can stereotype any of those roles, but would be incorrect and ill-advised in doing so.
There's more to a character or person than individual components; but we have stereotypes for a reason.
They're shortcuts for the brain. They make processing a situation far easier. But they're not always correct.
This week I found myself on an email chain discussing Girls
Up for debate was just this topic: the complexity of Dunham's characters.
How real were they? How much nuance can you pack into 30 minutes of HBO television? How do we judge each character and are those judgments valid?
The following is a rough breakdown of the conversation between the group.
I'd like to believe that in a few rapid-fire, quick email exchanges we touched on an interesting subject.
Michael H. writes:
I hope EVERYONE WATCHED THIS SCENE (Sandy and Hannah's break up) ON GIRLS....
Adam L. responds:
...I'm 92% confident that he (Sandy, the Republican) has a copy of Angels in America on his table which makes no sense given that the play's subtitle is "A gay fantasia on national themes.."
M.H.:
Can you further explain why he wouldn't?
When did he once say he was not pro-gay marriage. All he said about his republican beliefs was "it's more complicated than that" WHICH IS AMAZING because she doesn't villainize the republican at all - instead she villainizes herself for being a millennial ball of emotion.
Then, Mathew L. chimes in:
It's interesting because this ties back to exactly what the discussion was during the election. Remember your Facebook status? "If you're voting for Romney consider that you are limited my freedoms as a human being?" ...
By selecting your political party you are voting for a platform of issues and just because your vote INTENDS on being good (ie. supporting gay marriage but voting for a conservative candidate) that doesn't mean shit.
That doesn't mean he COULDN'T have had the book on his coffee table. Or maybe it was placed on purpose to make Lena seem like she had completely overreacted, like you said. HMMM...who knows.
Later in the episode Hannah attempts to rationalize the break up to her friends.
Your rights happened and your rights happened! She claims, pointing to her female best friend and gay roommate.
Ultimately, it doesn't matter what Lena was writing.
As Mathew wrote in his email, we don't really know what the writers' intentions were.
Mystery can remain.
We can be completely wrong in our judgement of Sandy's character.
Maybe it's too much and unrealistic to write a single character that embodies so many distinct stereotypes (the Republican, the Brooklynite, the intellectual, the student, the African American, the gay rights supporter, etc. etc.)
But maybe that's what we are as characters. Certain characteristics can be more apparent than others, but aren't we all really a complex collection of different beliefs and relationships and experiences?
The possibility of that depth--in Sandy as a character, in any written character--is important.
The fact that art and television turned into conversation, that's really what is important.
And if any piece of art causes us to turn conversation into contemplation, if we maintain the self awareness and ability to understand and change our views, that's even more important.
A continuation of this brief series on content. I stated that I would answer three questions, now I feel the need to follow through.
Question #2: How can an organization build a creative culture to foster quality content?
This question reminded me of an essay I read earlier this year from Etsy’s design lead Cap Watkins.
Cap writes about the differences between claiming to be a ‘design-driven company’ and actually having design and designers as a thought partner and integral part of a team.
His writing provides a starting point to understand an answer (and the importance) of building and maintaining the proper culture to embrace quality content in products and as an organization.
Two insights emerge that can help answer my question on content and organziations:
1) Treat content as a priority
The leadership team must make content an integral part of the conversation and/or process.
It’s not enough to say, “we’ll increase traffic or customer interaction through great content.”
Producing and designing this content needs to be a stage gate in any process. It needs to be openly discussed and focused on.
Designer and editors and producers need to be in big strategic conversations, not simply a resource on the side.
It’s too easy to get distracted by other components of the business and not keep content a focus. So make it a priority, put good content in your cultural DNA.
2) Build a diverse team
I’m a huge believer in the value of diverse teams.
Diversity of skill sets, backgrounds, thoughts, and beliefs is fundamentally important to create a strong organization and business.
This is especially true for content creation.
In Cap’s post he discusses the value of designers:
…designers are in a unique position when it comes to holistically understanding products. Whether it’s because there are typically few designers per product or because of something innate to the design process, designers are naturally 10,000-foot-view people. They view every feature they work on and every idea they have as part of a larger whole. They view changes not just through the lens of the present, but also looking into future iterations. They think about version 5.0 while working on version 1.0.
A similar paragraph could be written about editors, engineers, sales folks, etc.
It’s easy to say that you have a diverse culture and work environment. Much harder to consistently prove and maintain it, especially as an organization grows.
Therefore it’s important to set the value of collaboration in stone early.
Insist that the right—diverse—group of thinkers is in the room at the right times.
This will foster an environment of creative collaboration and positively impact the end result.
I once heard Leon Botstein, the President of Bard College, compare books to stairs. “They’ve invented the elevator,” he said, “but sometimes you still walk up.”
I know: a) not such a bold prediction, and b) it's already the 3rd week of January--a bit late for prediction posts.
A few weeks ago I began drafting (mostly in my head) a post on content.
Thinking was helpful but led to more questions rather than a concise thesis.
1) How can I become a better producer of content?
2) How can an organizational construct a culture that facilitation better content production?
3) Content is a super-abstract term, what does this year of content even look like as a product?
In an effort to keep this a reasonable length, I'll attempt to answer each question over the next few days and weeks in a series of three posts. First up...
How can I produce more (and higher quality) content at work and in life?
I've had a blog post by SEOMoz's Andrew Dumont open in a tab for pretty much all of 2013.
He writes a great life-hacking themed entry titled "How I Made a 26-Hour Day."
Andrew describes his solution to optimize his day and production. It is incredibly simple and obvious, as most good ideas are. It boils down to this:
Wake up 2 hours earlier. Push your schedule up, rearrange tasks accordingly.
From Andrew:
Wait a minute, didn’t I just wake up two hours earlier? Well, yes. But I optimized my day, significantly. Along with waking up earlier, I segmented out the thing that caused the greatest distraction, emails and calls. By waking up a few hours earlier and creating more granularity, I avoided the krypotonite of productivity – context switching.
Each time you answer a call or check an email, you lose time.
According to studies, it can take up to 23 minutes and 15 seconds (on average) to get back on task after an interruption. Studies also show that we’re interrupted an average of 6-7 times per hour. On the high-end, that’s over 5 hours that we can lose from context switching in just a two hour period, which doesn’t make any sense, but you get the point.
Mornings are different. Email slows down. Distractions fall away. Productivity increases.
The entire post is well worth a read.
The beauty of Andrew's advice is that this simple solution is applicable to everyone.
The obvious push-back is that if you work in a service-based, client-facing industry you don't always own your own schedule.
By pushing your schedule up earlier you're re-structuring your day to avoid this trap.
When I'm on the road for work, or a project is particularly busy, I try to force a habit and schedule surrounding an early morning workout (insert your own valued task--writing, reading, cooking, etc. here.)
I'm more energized and productive throughout the day, but more importantly, that time is protected. Even in client services.
Fire drills and new 'urgent' asks are inherently unpredictable. They throw off the rhythm of your day and plans.
I don't know what meetings or projects will pop up throughout a busy day. I don't know what my afternoon or evening will look like.
I do know that I can fit in a quick run or workout in the morning.
Mornings are predictable. You own your morning. In aligning your morning to your ideal tasks or to-do's you're reducing distractions and freeing up even more time throughout the day.
This positive result will make you more productive and it will increase the quality of that productivity.
Find a way to optimize your days and weeks.
Structure them around what's important and valuable to you.
One small change will dramatically increase your productivity and (hopefully) happiness.
And in increased productivity--greater free time to think or read or write or brainstorm--will undoubtedly lead to better content in both work and personal lives.
A phenomenal Quora thread/answer came across my Twitter feed* the other day.
The original question...
I am turning 27, and feel I have wasted a lot of time. Is it too late?
Nearly every 'life' conversation I've had with 20-something year old friends recently has turned to the topic of work and careers
However, this isn't a post on the millennial generation.
I can say, without diving too deeply into generational observations and stereotypes, that many of my friends have 'the next step' on their minds.
These are friends who have worked 1 to 2 jobs, for 1 to 5 years post-graduation.
They have different appetites for risk.
They all want to do something important, something that makes them happy.
But they all have hesitations.
This answer does a perfect job of responding to those who are hesitant to jump to the next project, venture, or position.
I wanted to cherry pick a few great lines, but I think the post as a whole deserves a read.
Pay attention to the last three paragraphs on sunk costs. The words couldn't be more spot on:
Too late for what?
If you slept through your 26th birthday, it's too late for you to experience it. It's too late for you to watch "LOST" in its premiere broadcast. (Though, honestly, you didn't miss much.) It's too late for you to fight in the Vietnam War. It's too late for you to go through puberty or attend nursery school. It's too late for you to learn a second language as proficiently as a native speaker. It's probably too late for you to be breastfed.
It's not too late for you to fall in love.
It's not too late for you to have kids.
It's not too late for you to embark on an exciting career or series of careers.
It's not too late for you to read the complete works of Shakespeare; learn how to program computers; learn to dance; travel around the world; go to therapy; become an accomplished cook; sky dive; develop an appreciation for jazz; write a novel; get an advanced degree; save for your old age; read "In Search of Lost Time"; become a Christian, then an atheist, then a Scientologist; break a few bones; learn how to fix a toilet; develop a six-pack ...
Honestly, I'm 47, and I'll say this to you, whippersnapper: you're a fucking kid, so get over yourself. I'm a fucking kid, too. I'm almost twice your age, and I'm just getting started! My dad is in his 80s, and he wrote two books last year.
You don't get to use age as an excuse. Get off your ass!
Also, learn about what economists call "sunk costs." If I give someone $100 on Monday, and he spends $50 on candy, he'll probably regret that purchase on Tuesday. In a way, he'll still think of himself as a guy with $100 -- half of which is wasted.
What he really is is a guy with $50, just as he would be if I'd handed him a fifty-dollar bill. A sunk cost from yesterday should not be part of today's equation. What he should be thinking is this: "What should I do with my $50?"
What you are isn't a person who has wasted 27 years. You are a person who has X number of years ahead of you. What are you going to do with them?
The past is important. Lessons learned propel us forward.
Nothing is more important than the relationships we've made.
But the future is a blank slate.
What will you do with it?
*I believe Christina originally tweeted the link. However, a quick trip to Stanford and Palo Alto this week has left me a bit fatigued social media-wise...and I can't seem to relocate the original link.
Before I could write a cliche "Predictions for 2013" post, it felt necessary to wrap up the previous year.
From a post in 2012:
I was having dinner with a group of friends/colleagues in early January when my friend Sutton told me that her New Year’s resolution was to take a photo a day for the entire year.
She challenged the table to do the same, explaining that even on the most mundane or stressful day this would force you to find something memorable/beautiful/unique/etc. to focus on and capture…even if it was just an object in the office.
I accepted Sutton’s challenge and began documenting my year on Instagram.
Well...the year is over.
In 2012 Instagram blew up, was sold to Facebook, almost sold its users' photos, and remained a strong application to share my photos of the day on.
The following is a quick cut of all of my 365 photos strung together. The full gallery can also be found online (where it looks much better) on Instagram.
Edit:
Summary (if music and 365 Instagrams is too much for you) ->
The majority of my year was spent in Chicago, Toronto, New York, and Ann Arbor (in that order.)
I apparently love sushi, coffee, and some combination of whiskey/beer/wine.
Despite living in a different city, Michael appears in the most photos. This comes as a surprise to...no one. Greg seems to be in second place although I lost count at some point.
I took less photos of food than I feared, more pictures of skylines, and have no fewer than 3 views of the BCG Chicago internal staircase.
A series of multiples: I helped host two events, took at least two selfies (both included a tie,) made it to two Bulls games in the opening week (and none since), watched two Michigan games live, and shared at least two platters of oysters with friends.
Finally, I managed to capture one picture of the exact moment I first heard 'Call Me Maybe.' No word on how many times I pressed repeat that night.
My friend Baylee just wrote a fantastic piece on social entrepreneurship over at Fast Company.
Baylee (who focuses on business development + heads up the grant program at DoSomething—a fantastic organization facilitating social change through youth) provides a series of a tips for success in the social entrepreneurship/enterprise space.
The entire piece is well worth a read, so I encourage you to go check it out now.
Some of her points are social-specific, most are simple and important facilitators of success in any industry.
In particular, I found myself nodding in agreement to her description of impact numbers:
7. Don't measure success in media impressions: Yes, being on Oprah is pretty kick-ass, and who doesn't adore some brand love from a local news station? But when a corporate sponsor or potential funder asks, "What is your impact?" they do not want to hear about how many times you've been retweeted or that you were featured in your college's alumni newsletter. They want impact numbers [emphasis mine].
We live in a world of numbers and data.
90% of the data in the world today has been created in the last two years alone.
This fact suggests that we have more information at our fingertips to generate insight and quantify value and impact then at any other point in history.
We—I—live in a world of instant (and at times superficial) gratification.
I actually get positive utility from the amount of 'likes' received on a photo I post to Instagram. Embarrassing, but true—and I know I'm not alone here.
The point is: it's easy to get distracted by superficial measures of validation or success.
Don't fall into this trap.
Find a measure (or a few measurements) that track true impact.
If you're running an eCommerce site number of users matter, but can't you tell a far more impactful story if you track # of users who purchase on their first trip to the site post-sign up, # of multi-purchase customers, or any number of descriptive and specific measurements?
And shouldn't you aim to tell a story and develop greater insight and strategy with customer data? Your site looks vastly different as a product if those repeat customers that you tracked have high basket totals with few items (your luxury goods are selling well) vs. multiple items at a cheaper price (maybe you're the next Amazon.)
A story of value creation is much more meaningful as a stamp of success than a feature done in your college newspaper showcasing the entrepreneurial spirit of an alumnus who started a company with x number of users.
(Although, undoubtedly, your friends, mother, and grandmother might find the newspaper article to be a particularly proud moment illustrating vast amounts of success.)
If you want to turn your social media presence into something with more value than simple communication with a network of individuals (which is a perfectly legitimate use of a service), don't just measure retweets or likes. Tell your sponsor or investor or the business paying you referral fees how many of your 1000 followers went to a specific site/restaurant/coffee shop after you tweeted a recommendation.
I tweet about a coffee shop in Ann Arbor and two friends favorite my tweet. Nice social utility, but little impact. Jack Dorsey tweets about a coffee shop in Detroit—I'd bet there's material impact, numbers that validate his influence—on that business.
Measuring success and value isn't always easy.
Nothing in life that's worth having comes easy, though. Right, Carnegie-fans?
Push yourself to prove your value.
Find insight, go a level deeper then customer acquisition cost or monthly sign-ups or daily revenue. Find something that blows the sponsor/investor away.
Demonstrate impact. Illustrate meaning and value and insight.
Force yourself and your company to measure the numbers that really count. It will influence your strategy, it will guide you to what actually matters. And ultimately, it will lead to more success and even greater impact.
"Live each day as if it's your last" is not a new or innovative thought.
This mantra--live your life to the fullest--is found in storybooks, movies, songs, and more.
While it's not unique, it is uniquely difficult to implement.
Which brings me to this following essay: "The Fight," written by Dustin Curtis.
The words and phrases are concise, and the theme well-known, but the story important and brilliantly written.
Humans are by default hopeful and optimistic creatures. We usually think about the future as though it will occur for us with absolute certainty, and that makes it hard to imagine death as a motivation for living. But knowing that my friend could potentially never wake up forced me, unexpectedly, to contemplate my personal drive for existence. Why do I do the things I do every day? Am I honestly acting out my dreams and aspirations? What’s my purpose? For a long time, when I was younger, I waited to discover my purpose. It was only very recently that I realized purpose is something you are supposed to create for yourself.
After my own comparatively minor brush with death a few years ago, when I was 22, I pledged to live my life as fully as possible, as though I had nothing to lose. For a few months afterward, I consciously tried to fight against the status quo. It’s so easy to get stuck in the waiting place, putting things off until later, even when those things are vitally important to making your dreams come true. But the truth is that, in order to make progress, you need to physically and mentally fight against the momentum of ordinary events. The default state of any new idea is failure. It’s the execution–the fight against inertia–that matters. You have to remember to go against your instinct, to confront the ordinary, and to put up a fight.
Read the piece in its entirety here.
Dustin concludes with, "Fight. Live your dreams and aspirations now."
Have a wonderful start to the week. Fight against inertia; and do things that truly matter.