Life used to be simpler, didn’t it? We could fix our own cars and milkshakes really had milk in them and content providers could generate revenues from content that people were interested in.
A good writer could publish a book that people would pay for. A band could write a hit song and make money without going on tour. Newspapers could break news (even if it was a day or a week or a month later than the event) and the public would snap it up on a daily basis to remain informed about their community, country and world.
Yes, there were issues of content control and distribution and there was a lack of choice for consumers… but good content seemed to “work” because people paid for information and services and entertainment, and that helped ensure that the pipeline for those things would remain full.
The Internet has brought many changes in our lives and how things work, and it has, essentially, broken this “pay for value” system. Users now log onto the Web with their computer and their browser and they expect to get everything. For free. Google can find it, right? And if it’s behind one of the few bastions of “premium content” (think: ESPN Insider or the Wall Street Journal Professional Edition) a user only needs to know where to look to find the content she wants copied-and-pasted into a free form.
Content providers—from newspapers to music studios to television networks—know that once something is online, it’s everywhere. If Google doesn’t distribute it, something (or someone) else will. Rupert Murdoch has said, “free is too expensive” and reportedly plans to bring News Corporation content behind paywalls, and although I enjoy free stuff as much as the next guy, I can’t say I blame him. Banner ads don’t generate enough revenue to support the infrastructure of major organizations, and without that infrastructure, News Corp can’t make content.
A paywall won’t fix everything, even if it does cut Google off at the knees in terms of piggybacking on the content others provide. The content will still be out there, and content providers will be in a running battle with aggregators to capture the eyes (and wallets) of users. Users who expect to get on their browser and get stuff for free.
News Corp and other content providers technically have another option: create applications that act like browsers but are more locked-down. Take the Wall Street Journal off of the “Web” and only stream information to those who subscribe to it using a special News Corp app. I say it’s “technically” possible because it is unlikely to work since goes against the grain of current personal computer use and trends.
The whole personal computer has gravitated towards browsers as the hub. The traditional World Wide Web is the clearest example, but Microsoft and Google and Facebook and a host of other companies are all about creating applications that supplant conventional desktop applications.
So… are content providers toast? Are users doomed to a universe of state-subsidized and/or user generate content?
Not necessarily.
Look at the iPhone and other app-based smartphones. Users’ expectations there are markedly different than on laptops or desktop computers. Sure, they want to be able to hit up the Web, but they also are willing to purchase and use applications that are alternate data clients… ways to get content outside of a conventional browser.
The iPhone is limited, of course. Not many people are going to want to read the Wall Street Journal from front to back on a 3.5 inch screen.
But what about an Apple Tablet? Or Microsoft Courier? More pixels. Easier for those of us with fat fingers or particularly bad manual dexterity.
It also, even if it has a browser, will not have the “baggage” (from the perspective of content providers) associated with personal computers: that everything is free in a browser if you look hard enough.
Imagine Time, Inc. making a Sports Illustrated app, where a user pays for a year’s worth of content up front, or authorizes a weekly or monthly payment. Without knowing its exact strategy, it seems clear based on this demo that SI is already thinking this way.
For users it might seem a step back. It might seem like the Web except not for free (like the bad ol’ days of AOL). But it might turn out to be a great thing. Content providers that can provide content in a more controlled environment should be more willing to generate and distribute superior content because they will generate revenue from its consumption.
Yes, it might be a great thing. It might be the salvation of media as we know it without disrupting the social media/conversational Web that we have come to know and expect.
It is more and more obvious to businesses and individuals that technology allows for opinions to travel more quickly than ever. Every blog is a potential blessing or curse for a business, and any tweet may take the place of old school Consumer Reports magazine. We all know we can save money and improve our chances of getting a good value by looking to online sources that we trust.
In addition to the widespread and speedy dissemination of information, though, a recent survey points out another factor at work: cyberdisinhibition.
What is “cyberdisinhibition”? It is the reduction of the “public face” that each of us wears in real life. It is the willingness of people to be more extreme—in their opinions, in their (lack of) manners, in their abrasiveness—online. Anonymity and the low barriers to entry to contributing online logically make being especially loud and grouchy more likely; the consequences are fewer and the costs lower to complain (even in an over-the-top fashion) over a digital medium than in person.
What does cyberdisinhibition mean to businesses? It reinforces the need to be aware of how their brand and image is being communicated online. The days of controlling the message entirely are long gone, but an untended complaint (whether thanks to cyberdisinhibitionist forces or not) can snowball out of control quickly. Businesses should be aware of communities (blogs, forums, Twitter users) that use and discuss their products and be willing to communicate about issues.
Nip the problem in the bud before the Customer with the Keyboard starts typing in all caps.
Everyone likes their privacy, right? None of us want people peeking in our windows at home, watching us. Orwell gave us nightmares of the government watching us through our televisions.
As technology has advanced and so many of us have given more and more information (from names and addresses to credit card information), technology has also started to gather information about us that we don’t explicitly offer. Safeway knows when I buy bread but not milk, and they know how much more likely I am to purchase milk when they put bread on sale. Amazon knows enough about my preferences to make recommendations in music and books based on purchases and what I’ve viewed. Google knows what I search for and where I’ve been online.
Of course, I know they know. But do I know how much they know? And does it matter to me if I do?
Google has become not just dominant (in that it’s the search engine used almost 70% of the time) but pervasive. Google ads, powered by Google AdWords, are on seemingly every site. Google Analytics ties into Google AdSense, letting Web sites optimize and monetize. And the visitor sees ads that she actually is interested in, ideally, because of the use of data collected by Google about the user.
If we ignore privacy as a concern, it’s a pretty good deal. A win-win-win for users, content providers and advertisers.
But we like our privacy, right? Are we afraid of what they know, or afraid of not knowing what they know?
Google has to make sure that there’s no huge backlash against its market share, and it has come out with the Google Dashboard, which allows users to monitor settings and see what Google knows about them across its myriad of services (including YouTube, Google Docs, and others).
Is it enough? Is it too much? Will we even care enough to use Google Dashboard?
Two services that I use on a regular basis have been hit with service interruptions this week. T-Mobile has had ongoing problems with Sidekick services, and I’ve been personally affected/afflicted with an inability to use my phone’s browser. I called customer service about 24 hours after it started happening and was greeted with a pre-recorded general “We know it’s happening” message. Fortunately for me, I sit in front of a PC for most of my waking hours, so I can put up with the lack of service, especially since the company is going to be providing me a credit for an entire month’s worth of service.
Facebook, too, has had its problems this week. An unknown number of users have been unable to access their accounts and they’re not pleased by it. Facebook has some 300 million users, and if even one percent of users are locked out, that’s a lot of potential anger.
People put so much of their lives—their contact information, their primary communication mechanism—into Facebook that when it’s suddenly unavailable for an indefinite amount of time for an unknown (or at least uncommunicated-to-users) reason, frustration is natural. And, unlike T-Mobile, Facebook cannot simply refund user fees because (obviously) it’s already free.
Facebook is, at some level, a victim of its own success and its users’ high expectations. If it hopes to maintain its dominant position in the social networking universe, it needs to have plans in place to avoid emotionally isolating its users when technical snags arise.
Reporters do it. Shaq does it. The guy sipping on the $9 beer in the upper deck does it.
These people all attend sporting events, and they report on the game through social media. They Tweet, they take pictures, and they chat and txt in personal and professional capacities.
It seems inevitable, doesn’t it? Technology has become so mobile that people are constantly pushing information, whether they’re on a bus or their wife is in labor. When it comes to sports, though, it gets a bit trickier. Imagery and even some aspects of the reporting are intellectual property (IP), and the owners of that IP have a legal obligation to protect it, or else they risk losing whatever rights they’ve got in the IP.
The NBA is reportedly clamping down its players when it comes to Tweeting, and the NFL did something similar last month. Of course, the NFL (the league where the players wear helmets and they better not show too much personality unless they legally change their name) extended the guidelines to media members, too.
Media members may not, according to the NFL, use Twitter or any other medium to give play-by-play. That seems pretty obvious and fair. But what about the guy with the $9 beer in the upper deck? Can the NFL hope to stop him? Should their IP rights be threatened if they cannot?
It appeared, for a short time, that the Southeastern Conference (SEC) hoped to. After a big negative reaction last month, the SEC explained its new policies, which were primarily aimed at video feeds during games, rather than a Tweet about Tim Tebow‘s throwing motion in the third quarter.
Are these social media guidelines reactionary overreaching? Or are they a first step towards institutional limitations on what is commonly seen as a self-evident right to Tweet?
Imagine a hypothetical Web site that is ready to launch. It looks great, test users love it, the client loves it, and everyone is happy. Everyone, that is, except the SEO expert.
The SEO expert is, after all, responsible for guiding and delivering search engine optimization (SEO). SEO experts provide methods to drive a site up the Google results page, and because what they do often can be quantified quite easily as success or failure, SEO experts can be very specific about what changes are necessary to ensure that the site shows up when people want to find it.
Or, rather, they help ensure that the site shows up when people search for certain things. We’ll get to that why that difference matters in a moment.
An SEO expert might want the page titles changed. No biggie, right? They might want keywords integrated into site copy and image alt tags. Again: that’s cool. So far the great-looking, user-approved, client-adored site is intact, and the “under the hood” SEO adjustments don’t mean any concessions.
But what if the results aren’t good enough? What is the SEO expert to do?
Answer: they want more keywords. They want more and more keywords. They want links and other adjustments to the site that often not only spoil the aesthetic nor the way the client views the site, but the way that users experience it.
The stage has been set, then, for the classic SEO v. UX battle.
User experience (UX) encompasses how the users navigate a site, how they feel about a site, and how key features and messages are delivered. Good UX adds value and, when coupled with content users want, helps define the value of a site.
An argument for compromising UX in the name of SEO is relatively easy to make: if users cannot find the site, they cannot enjoy the experience. By giving a little on the experience front, the thinking goes, traffic will be generated and the site will be better off for being … worse.
In order to challenge this position, I think it’s necessary, first and foremost, to examine what SEO is at its most basic level. It is the manipulation of the difference between the value of a site and what search engines perceive to be the value.
Let’s deconstruct that quickly before we move on. A perfect search engine would know what the user wanted to find and give them the best possible value given that request. It would not be fooled by fake Web sites and it would be able to account for minor user error to point them in the right direction. No search engine is perfect, though, and because of the algorithms and logic used by the software of Google and Microsoft and others, inefficiencies exist: gaps between what the user wants and what the search site delivers. SEO manipulates that inefficiency by knowing (or guessing) at what search sites look for and “gaming the system” for positive results. If that perspective is too cynical for you, gentle reader/conscientious SEO expert, another way of looking at it might be that SEO strives to accurately convey the true value of a site given the search engine’s inability to correctly judge what the user wants when she searches.
SEO, then, is a cosmetic cover-up for the acne-riddled face of search sites.
The early days of search sites saw directories dominate. Microsoft and Yahoo employed teams of worker bees to review sites and classify and rate them, allowing users to have a virtual yellow pages. This didn’t scale, of course, as the number of Web pages exploded. Early attempt at user-updated directories were prone to severe levels of cheating and it was nearly impossible to trust ratings and/or believe that the directory was anything near complete.
The next step was the use of software to supplant directories with search engines. Bots would read pages and see what terms showed up and then spit out results for users on the search pages. Proto-SEO actors would game the system, search sites would adjust, and search engines evolved into what we have today: a reasonably fleshed-out coverage of many parts of the World Wide Web.
The good news is that as technology has improved the gap between search site perception of value and actual value has decreased. The bad news is that the gap is still relatively wide in many cases.
It is in this environment that the hypothetical Web site we’ve created finds itself. Search site placement can be very important, but sacrificing value to users in order to gather users can result in an inferior Web site.
Fortunately, the future might allow the best possible sites to exist with the most possible users. The future might have a superior search approach: one that combines technology with communal eyeballs and collective-approved expert opinion.
Earlier efforts at this sort of thing (by sites like Wikia) have fallen short, but hope is not lost. Zakta seeks to augment its search results by letting users edit, save and share the results for their search terms. A standard Google search for “best HDTVs” might have two pages of questionable or even unusable results—either because of SEO or because of the passage of time and weakness of the search algorithm. On Zakta, the same search may point to a user who has taken the time to build a top 10 list of HDTV review sites and five of his favorite online retailers. Eventually, the same search might result in a half-dozen similar lists, with the searcher able to differentiate between the quality of the lists and/or quality of the list-maker as rated by other users of the search site.
Zakta might not be the next step, but the next step is coming. It’s Wikipedia meets Digg meets Google. It encourages value over gaming and substance over style. And it might signal the end of SEO as we know it.
