Category Archives: Blog

Why this recession is different and unemployment won’t get better soon

This isn’t a very festive post, being the holiday season and all. But being the holiday season, I actually have a few minutes to write it. The topic has been on my mind a lot lately.

Yesterday, I reviewed a number of the year’s “best graphs,” published by The Atlantic. One of the most striking, further inciting this post, was a graph showing how US GDP has effectively recovered from the recession. Shocking, right? Because jobs haven’t. In fact, the US is pumping out a pre-recession GDP with 6.6 million fewer jobs.

That chart supports another that I reviewed recently in The Lean Startup by Eric Ries, showing how manufacturing output in the US actually hasn’t diminished the way some pundits claim. Nor have the jobs all been sent offshore. Rather, factories are outputting more product with fewer people thanks largely to productivity improvements and, critically, automation. In fact, I’ve read that Foxconn, maker or Apple products, plans to start further automating its factories, eliminating jobs from its massive workforce. Capital flows downhill, and eventually flows into computers and robots whose labor is effectively more profitable than even slave labor.

Economists would argue that’s okay, because you need people to make, service and program the computers and robots. But (a) it takes far fewer people to program an iPhone app than manufacture an iPhone and (b) those people need a higher level of education than someone working on a repetitive assembly-line task.

Just compare “new economy” companies like Apple and Google with “old economy” companies like Ford and GM. The former make up to 10 times the profit per employee of the latter, despite having high-priced engineers on their payroll. Put another way, it takes these companies up to 10 times fewer people to produce every dollar of profit. Looking at those numbers, it’s no surprise you have a pre-recession GDP with 6.6 million fewer jobs.

Old economy versus new: "New economy" companies like Apple and Google make up to 10 times more profit per employee than "old economy" companies like GM and Ford (all data from Wolfram|Alpha)

And that trend will only continue. As Marc Andreessen has pointed out, an increasing amount of stuff is becoming software. Everyone from dedicated hardware manufacturers to toy companies are seeing the trend, with do-it-all gadgets like the iPad eating into their physical product business. When 3D printing goes mainstream (I guesstimate around 2013), that trend will only hasten the decline of traditional manufacturing. Combine that with the trend of collaborative consumption, with services like Zip car and AutoShare, and the number of factories and manufacturing jobs will only plummet further.

I’m not sure what this means for the economy and employment, but I’m pretty sure that business-as-usual and government-as-usual is not the answer. The fruits of productivity gains need to be shared more broadly, and more people engaged in the new economy in some capacity, or things like Occupy Wall Street will seem quaint and cute in comparison to the more violent protests of hungry, bored young people (particularly unemployed young men) who have nothing to lose.

Fundamentally, this isn’t your grandparents’ recession. There is a structural change going on here, and 1920s solutions won’t cut it. The cloud of political rhetoric around tax breaks and spending cuts is mostly a distraction. The economy is shifting beneath our feet. The signs are there for anyone to see if they’d simply look.

Calculating the attention tax

How much is a minute of your time worth? If you’re a consultant, you probably have a good idea. If not, you may have never considered the question.

It’s not an easy question to answer. After all, it depends on who’s valuing the time. Each of us will tend to value our own time more than others, since we can’t use other people’s time to extend our lives. Until, of course, we find ourselves in a situation where someone else’s time can save us time, in which case their time becomes valuable in relation to our own. Or perhaps, in the case of a doctor, their time can extend our lives and our time, and therefore a minute of their time could be literally worth years of ours, and we’re willing to pay accordingly.

This isn’t mere angels-on-the-head-of-a-pin musing. In our information-based society, and despite coming out of a recession, our time and attention are becoming increasingly more scarce and valuable than money. After all, even those who unfortunately find themselves unemployed must wade through reams of information online to find the best, most trusted source of recommendations in order to take action and improve their financial situation. In an information-based society, knowledge precedes action. And with the pace at which that knowledge grows, and the increasing ease with which people can publish, filtering that knowledge becomes harder and harder.

All of which leads me to the concept of an attention tax. Just as we now all look at our sales receipts and income statements to gauge the extent of our financial taxation, and use strategies like registered savings plans to reduce our tax burden, so too must we start as a society paying attention to taxes on our attention. How many aspects of our societies are non-optimized for attention, even if they’re optimized for monetary value? In the private sector, for example, telemarketing may raise GDP by employing lots of people, but it decreases our GDA (“Gross Domestic Attention”) by distracting us. And cutting taxes won’t feel so good if it results in a reduced bureaucracy that increases the amount of time and attention we must spend on even the smallest task, having few experts available to help us.

So, now that financial tax season is largely behind us, maybe we can all take a bit of time to think about our attention, and what it’s worth. And for things that are distracting us, maybe we need to find some good tax strategies to minimize unnecessary expenditures.

Image credit: Dave Dugdale,  learningdslrvideo.com

Digital marketing is an ecosystem, not a pet store

Cross-posted from the RightSpot Media blog. You can also read it there: Digital marketing is an ecosystem, not a pet store.

Over the past decade, digital marketing has changed a lot. But one thing has stayed fairly consistent: the extent to which people obsess over tactics at the expense of strategy. More specifically: the extent to which people obsess over the latest hot tactic—search, social, email, local, mobile, whatever—and seek related gurus to show them the way.

It’s hard to change people’s orientation to think strategically, to define a plan with measurable objectives, then implement tactics and analyze the results. To help, I’ve been increasingly referring to a more holistic approach to digital marketing as a “digital ecosystem.” I think the analogy is fit. Here’s why.

In an ecosystem, nothing survives and thrives in isolation. Lions can only be king if they can eat smaller mammals that in turn eat vegetation. And that’s a gross oversimplification, as ecological networks are extremely complex (lions, after all, can also be eaten by vultures when they die).

Digital marketing is similarly complex. Search marketing may drive customers to a landing page where they complete an order. But if those customers have been exposed to a display ad in a premium environment, they will be far more likely to convert, thereby driving down your cost of acquisition. And if your website has a high search ranking, because you filled it with great content, your quality score will be higher, and therefore your cost per click (and, again, cost per acquisition) will be lower still.

I could go on, but I think you get the point: too many people pick a pet tactic and obsess over it. But digital marketing isn’t about having lots of pets in cages. It’s about cultivating an ecosystem of tactics united by a common strategy that delivers measurable results.


Future of digital content is aggregation and curation, not publisher apps

(Update: I turned this into a more comprehensive post about digital publishing trends on the RightSpot Media blog.)

I write this from my iPad (hence no formatting or links), on which I recently installed an amazing app called Zite. It’s kind of like Flipboard, or so I’ve heard; I never installed it because I tend to already fear the deluge of social spam that sites like Facebook now generate.

Zite is different. It’s a “personalized magazine” that brings me information I’m interested in, kind of like Pandora but for readable content. I tell it what articles I like (and assume it also picks up on cues, like what articles I share), and it brings me more of them. And it brings them from quality sources I might never otherwise discover, unlike RSS, which is fairly fixed once you set up your reader.

Working in a digital marketing and publishing business, I can say that this feels significant. Publishers are rushing to get apps out the door, perhaps delayed only by fears of Apple’s subscription cut. But I think it’s unlikely most users will subscribe to dozens or hundreds of apps on their iPad, taking up all that space, and cluttering their life. I think it’s far more likely that tablets will be dominated by the growing number of aggregation and curation apps.

What does that mean for publishers? It means a different model than the standard approach to advertising. I think it means more content sponsorship, where an advertiser pays to sponsor a subject area and has their brand associated with content on that subject (but doesn’t influence the content, at least not any more than existing forms of advertising). Mashable does this well, and is a model to follow.

I think it also means other forms of compensation, such as that offered by Readability (thanks to Pramesh for the correction), which is distributing subscription revenue to the creators of content that users save to that platform.

Will this “save” journalism as we know it? Hard to say. Who would have ever guessed that we could crowdsource an encyclopedia from latent talent and spare time? I do feel, however, that publishers are better off investing in low-cost sponsorship experiments than high-cost app-development experiments. More generally, I think this is a safe strategy to follow: create great content, find a related sponsor, embed their sponsorship in your content (in a way that respects editorial integrity), and distribute your content as widely as possible, to every app and website you can think of. Including Zite.

Why Google spam conflict of interest is (mostly) unfounded and misses the real threat

For a few weeks now, Google has been attacked (and did some attacking) over search results and spam. One of the claims in all of this is that Google has no incentive to clean up spammy search results, if those search results are for sites running Google AdSense, for which Google makes money when people click the ads.

To anyone who’s actually run AdSense ads, attempted search arbitrage (getting clicks on Google for less than you make from them on AdSense), or generally been involved in digital advertising and publishing, this criticism rings hollow. Not because Google is morally absolved because it strives to “not be evil.” But simply because:

  • Google pays publishers a percent (reportedly 68%) of every click generated from AdSense
  • Google does not pay this for clicks on ads from its search results
  • Delivering poorer search results to drive AdSense revenues from spammy publishers sites is therefore a very bad long-term business decision

It also misses what’s probably a bigger threat to the open internet: Google turning its search index into a non-spammy but Google-controlled experience. For example, when you conduct a local search for something like “Toronto pizza”, you get what’s largely a Google Places page index. Good for users, perhaps, but results from sites like Yelp receive lower billing. And Google Places is a paid product (although there’s a free version).

So while we should be vigilant about a spammier index, competitors are helping to apply pressure that should keep that largely in check. Meanwhile, we should also remain vigilant about a very clean but totally biased index that gives the appearance of neutrality and openness.

Entrepreneurship is a tool for keeping pace with technological change

The term “technological singularity” or simply “singularity” feels oddly outdated despite evidence that, in fact, we’re clearly in a period of ever-quickening technical developments. I just have to look at my three-year-old obsolete iPhone as an example (in the 1990s, can you imagine, people upgraded their computer on average every six years). “Singularity” probably feels obsolete because we all understand the concept intuitively now, if not the potential implications.

But as an entrepreneur who obsessively follows the world of entrepreneurship, I’m starting to feel a new symptom of the singularity or, at the very least, of the quickening pace of technological development. It is the unprecedented scale with which incubators, venture capitalists, governments and tech companies are launching incubators and funding programs to support the growing number of startups sprouting from ideas and ambition.

Certainly, this makes economic sense, as startups fuel innovation and create jobs, so everyone wants in. But I think there’s something more, because I’ve seen this hype before, working in an incubator in early 2000 during the dot-com boom, and this is different. Now, more, and more diverse, people are developing ideas and bringing them to market. It’s much more democratic and much less centralized. There are many reasons. But subjectively, overall, it feels to me that as a society, we’re both leveraging and coping with rapid technological change by expanding the pool of people who can create the next big thing. Entrepreneurial mechanisms like incubators act like society’s immune system to ensure we can keep pace with our creations.

The “rat race” is really just evolution

When the first proto-cells formed in Earth’s chemical soup, I’m sure they were pretty proud of themselves. “Awesome, I metabolize! I rock.” But over time, as proto-cells competed for resources, and complex cells emerged and gave way to (egads) multicellular organisms, being proto wasn’t good enough. They had to upgrade.

So it is with human affairs. The “rat race” is nothing more or less than an extension of competition for scarce resources, whether it be oil or, increasingly in my industry, people’s time. It’s evolution. Stasis is death.

But change is stressful. And I bet one reason we’re so stressed as a society overall is that we’re forced to evolve at an unprecedented rate, upgrading our skills to keep pace with product lifecycles, like the iPhone’s, on overdrive, and beyond anything biology has seen before.

Yet while too much stress sucks, I’d rather be a stressed amoeba than an obsolete proto-cell.

The paradox of time management

Sure, you want to be more productive. But if you’re like me, you probably also have a utopian vision of productivity nirvana, when you’re working four hours a week (thank you Timothy Ferris), are financially independent, effortlessly enjoy leisure and travel, and write books in your spare time.

The truth? After decades pursuing productivity, reading books, following systems, working with technologies (the latest, OmniFocus, rocks), I’ve come to realize a time management paradox: if you’re ambitious, every time management improvement will only increase the number of things you try to cram into your better-managed time.

So you may get more done. But it won’t lead to a relaxing sigh of clear-headed bliss. For that we don’t need time management. We need time outs.

Is this thing on?

WTF, I haven’t blogged since July 2010? For someone who works in digital marketing, that’s probably bad. I have some good excuses, of course, like the fact that my wife and I had a baby in August. Truth is, however, blogging just seems like so much work compared to, say, tweeting or posting a status update on Facebook.

So I’m stripping things down, and have installed the most minimal, cross-device compliant blog theme I could find. And I’m experimenting with blogging in a simple way, including in plain text straight from my iPad (which, WordPress people, could probably stand an upgrade to keep pace with competitors like Tumblr).

I also want to take some inspiration from Seth Godin and stop feeling compelled to write an essay with every post. Sometimes, three paragraphs suffice. Like now.

The return of reputational capital: Why credibility is once again your best investment

Invest in yourself: Your credit score is probably less important to your long-term economic success than your online reputation (image credit: wynlok)

My little sister is adventurous, generous and, in the best possible way, idealistic. As I write this, she’s volunteering as a counselor at a Palestinian summer camp. So I wasn’t surprised to learn that she recently traveled to Cyprus. Nor that she stayed with a complete stranger she met online through CouchSurfing, a website—make that movement—for finding accommodation and creating a better world “one couch at a time.”

But I was somewhat surprised when I saw pictures of her accommodations. Rather than the dirty hovel you might expect from a service targeting frugal travellers, her room was spacious and immaculate, the fortunate side-effect of staying in the home of an architect’s son. And, exceeding even the common generosity of the CouchSurfing community, her host even offered use of his car, a convertible Mazda Miata perfect for booting around in the Cyprus sun.

It’s the kind of accommodation and transportation that could set you back some cash. Except for one thing: you couldn’t buy it if you tried, because CouchSurfing’s rules expressly prohibit such commercial transactions. So whereas a decent hotel in Cyprus might cost you $100 a night, an architect’s house and a convertible (not to mention meals) are free.

Free, that is, if you have a good reputation, and the right attitude. Because while CouchSurfing doesn’t allow commercial transactions, it does require you to have credibility. If fellow CouchSurfers give you a poor rating, you’re out of luck. Violate core principles, and you’re out of the community completely.

CouchSurfing’s just one example of a growing reputation-based economy. Science fiction writer Cory Doctorow’s “whuffie,” a digitally tracked future currency based on reputation, now seems one of the more prescient predictions in recent years. A confluence of developments including information (and general) abundance, social media growth and transparency, and an increasingly unreliable financial credit system have driven the trend. Make no mistake: your reputation (and, particularly, your digital reputation) is now as important to your economic future as your credit score—if not more so.

From handshakes to credit score—and back

Long ago, in the dark ages before MasterCard, personal integrity was your credit score. We didn’t need elaborate algorithms for calculating your worthiness of a loan. If you had a good reputation, you could borrow from family, friends and the community. If you had a bad reputation, you were marginalized. Your handshake was worth more than gold. And the community’s memory rivalled that of a bank mainframe. People didn’t forget. If your grandfather’s grandfather screwed people, you were born tainted.

But for most of the 20th century, we disconnected personal integrity from credit worthiness. Your credit score was largely determined by things like your equity and, bizarrely, the amount of debt you were already carrying and able to manage. One of my older sisters (not the CouchSurfer; I have three) never claimed one of those ubiquitous student credit cards while at university. When she graduated, despite having a steady job with the government, she struggled to get credit. With no history of debt, she was essentially blacklisted. Meanwhile, the Kenneth Lays and Bernie Ebbers of the world had no trouble accessing capital, despite character flaws that would ultimately lead to their undoing.

What happened? As communities grew and dispersed, our ability to track reputation disintegrated. Doing business with people overseas, for example, it’s hard to know their reputation, particularly if you don’t speak their language or know anyone in their community. Ditto when our communities grew beyond the few hundred people our brains evolved to track. And then there’s the fact that integrity is a tough thing to measure. It’s pretty hard to track how many promises or handshakes people betray.

But it’s fairly straightforward to track people’s financial transactions. So why go through the arduous process of assessing character when you can much more easily track earnings, equity, debt load and repayment history? Hence your credit score became far more important than your reputation, allowing for national and international financial institutions to build obscenely lucrative businesses by extending credit to people they’d never met, and didn’t need to.

But all of that is starting to change.

From Visa to Facebook

Something’s happening now that’s returning us to a more communal, reputation-based economy. The massive growth in goods and services sharing—things like car sharing and couch surfing—is some of the most tangible evidence, as sharing doesn’t work without ways to measure and monitor reputation (as noted by collaborative consumption guru Rachel Botsman). Then there’s the explosion of interest in personal branding, the art of managing your image the way corporations manage theirs. In fact, there are now even entire businesses built to protect your reputation.

As I see it, there are three main trends driving the return of reputational capital:

  1. Reputation helps us curate abundance. In his excellent book Free, Chris Anderson describes how an abundance of information on the internet helped give reputation monetary value. How so? With so much information, what’s scarce is attention. We decide what information to attend based on reputation. (That’s how Google works, for example; sites with many high-quality inbound links have a good reputation in Google’s eyes, hence rise up the search ranks.) When you have a good enough reputation to attract attention, you can monetize that attention with products, services or ads. But information isn’t the only thing that’s abundant these days. In industrialized nations, there is a general abundance of goods and services to meet our needs. We’re overwhelmed. So we determine what goods and services to attend based on reputation.
  2. Transparent social networks allow us to measure and track reputation. And if you don’t think this is important, note that nearly half of employers review job candidates on social networking sites. Of course, bulletin boards, forums and chat rooms have been around awhile. What’s new, as noted by David Kirkpatrick in The Facebook Effect, is the level of transparency we now have with social networks. On Facebook, you use your real name and connect (mostly) to other real people. Ditto with services like LinkedIn. Everything you share there is recorded for posterity, and we’re becoming increasingly comfortable sharing a lot. Now add rating and “liking,” and you have a way of keeping score. You can try to avoid it by abstaining from social networks. But for many industries and jobs, the benefits of social networking—like the ability to use your reputation and network to attract business—outweigh the risks. It’s now much easier to track handshakes, no matter the number, distance or language of your connections.
  3. Our relationship with credit is on the rocks. After the recent financial apocalypse, a lot of people have basement-dwelling credit scores. Hell, a lot of countries have basement-dwelling credit scores. And as much as governments try to stimulate economies with more borrowed cash, it’s doubtful the days of delirious debt spending are coming back. Americans in particular are maxed out, with the US now having the lowest savings rate—recently dipping into negative territory—since the Great Depression. (China’s savings rate, by comparison, is 30% to 40%, which the US has, oddly, tried to partly blame for the recent financial crisis while further spending itself into debt.) With credit no longer a clear marker of borrowing worthiness (especially in places where people have negative home equity due to the financial crisis), reputation has returned in importance.

Unlock wealth with your name

All of this suggests that cultivating a good reputation (and, generally, being a good person) could provide greater return on investment than most financial investment vehicles. For example, sellers on eBay with a good reputation tend to sell items at a higher price. And people who contribute to open source projects, like Linux, can translate their reputation-building contributions into lucrative jobs.

Let’s take a more concrete example. Imagine you put $1,000 today into an impossibly high-interest 12-month investment. Go nuts and imagine 10%, even though the highest guaranteed 12-month investment you’re likely to get with any bank right now is less than 2% in Canada. One year from now, you’d have yourself an extra $100. Which is about the cost of a one-night stay in a Cyprus hotel. Cultivate a reputation on CouchSurfing like my sister, however, and you could get yourself a weekend’s accommodation free, with food and, in at least one case, a car. Which, even just considering a two-night stay, is worth at least twice as much as your unrealistically high 10% interest return. Better yet, you need no principal (unless you want to build your reputation by hosting guests), meaning all you need to invest is your time.

So clearly, your reputation is worth something. Build it up. And try not to max it out.

© 2000-2012 Simon Smith All Rights Reserved