Perfection in "Imperfectionists"

I may be one of the worst English/journalism double majors in the history of academia. My mantra until about a year ago was, “Yes, I study literature and writing, but I hate to read.” So what changed? Somewhere in London, my high school mentality of “if you make me do it I will hate it” disappeared. I discovered the classic texts of my Romantic literature, Shakespeare and American literature classes stuck around for the past few centuries for a reason. Amazingly, when I sat down to tackle the works of Austen, Shelly, Keats, Twain and Shakespeare it didn’t hurt, no tears were shed and I actually enjoyed reading. To be fair, breaking a twenty-year-long abhorrence does not happen overnight, but my mentality was definitely altered. The summer after my return from abroad I read more books by my own accord than I had since I took on the entire Harry Potter series in one month.

I find myself drawn to authors I can relate to: specifically contemporary Jewish authors and journalists turned authors. My favorite is Mitch Albom, as evident from my stained and worn copy of “The Five People You Meet in Heaven.” He is both a Jew and a journalist, so how can I help but love him? I am drawn to his style; it is easy to read, conversational, yet complex and emotional. I always walk away from his books with a mind full of bubbling question and new perspectives. Even though his background is in sports writing, Albom tackles difficult topics such as death and faith. He tackles them in a way that is not preachy but beautiful and always open for interpretation by the reader.

One of my new favorite books and writers comes from another journalist, and I encourage any journalist, anyone who has worked in a news room or even just read a newspaper to pick up a copy. The author is Tom Rachman and his novel is “The Imperfectionists.” I must confess I am about 100 pages shy of finishing the book, because I suffer from the common affliction of college students involving a guilty feeling associated with reading material other than the thousands of pages already assigned for classes. From what I have read so far, all I can say is this book is amazing! One of the best books, if not the best books I have read in a long time. What makes it so special? Not only does he recreate the landscape of the journalism industry for the past forty years spot on, but he takes the deadline crazy, in-your-face news business and makes is personal. The structure of the book is unique in that each chapter tells the story of one member of the staff of an English newspaper based in Rome. In between each chapter are a few pages telling the story of how the newspaper came to be.

There are moments in this book so real and heartwarming they I have to stop mid page to appreciate the genius of the writing. It is so easy for writers of any genre to fall into the trap of following clichés, I am not exempt from this. Stories have been told for centuries, so finding ones that have not been told before is rare. But Rachman brings a level of creativity to his novel that I did not expect, given his journalism background. I don’t think anyone who read this book would be disappointed, but I think it would be even more difficult for a journalist not to appreciate and relate to it.

No one likes change

This is the future of journalism, and it terrifies me and excites me at the same time. I can’t take my eyes off of it, yet it is everything I want journalism to be. I think Dan Gillmor would agree with me.

The recent suicide bombing at Moscow Domodedovo Airport have flooded headlines, TV news stations, social media sites, blogs and vlogs all around the world. This is not surprising – anything involving a potential terrorist attack and mass casualties will get people’s attention, boost ratings and spark discussions. The story is without a doubt newsworthy and of course tragic. I first saw the headline on Monday when it popped up on The Chicago Tribune’s homepage, I heard about it later on TV news stations, but it wasn’t until I stumbled upon some photographs and later a video on YouTube that this story really caught my full and undivided attention.

The photos were of the actual victims, bodies visible through a cloud of dust in the baggage claim. They were images comparable to the graphic ones from 9/11, but still an in-your-face photo that “Big Media,” as Dan Gillmore refers to it in his book “We the Media: Grassroots journalism by the people, for the people,” is often reluctant to expose to the public. The video was taken by a witness on the scene, essentially a victim of the bombing. He or she survived the attack, took out a camera or mobile phone and started recoding the aftermath.

On the same day of the attacks this video was posted on YouTube, and within 24 hours it had over half a million views. The video titled “First witness video moments after Moscow Domodedovo airport bombing,” was posted by Russia Today. According to their channel:

RT is a 24/7 English-language news channel. We are set to show you how any story can be another story altogether. Broadcasting over six continents and 100 countries, our coverage focuses on international headlines, giving an innovative angle set to challenge viewers worldwide.
The channel is government-funded but shapes its editorial policy free from political and commercial influence. Our dedicated team of news professionals unites young talent and household names in the world of broadcast journalism.

Despite their massive resources, large staff and extensive content, this video says more about the attacks than most stories will. Sure I skimmed through the news reports to get the details of the event, and listened to the news anchors for breaking details, but this video did something different. This video put me in that Russian airport, with the chaos and confusion of separating survivors from victims. At the end of the 44 second video all I could do was sit and absorb everything I had seen and heard.

This is the future of journalism Gillmor predict in his book – journalism driven by the people who are a part of it. I think this is great, because for the first time in a long time the world gets to see all of the news, any story they want and in any format. People are using technology not only to their advantage but to further the knowledge of others. At the same time, it also makes me hesitant. Hesitant, because if this is the future of journalism, if the maker of this clip can capture a story on film better than I could in words, where does that leave me?

For one, it reduces my $200,000 education to something I could have picked up off the street, but also makes me question where my future in journalism will lie. I have dabbled in being one of these grassroots journalists, but my initial failure and dislike left a stigma that plagues my desire to rely on the internet as a career.

During the fall semester of my sophomore year, a friend helped me get hired as an editorial intern for a website called Unigo.com. The mission of Unigo was simple, yet one I could easily be passionate about: Provide a place for perspective college students to learn about the schools they were considering from students who were currently attending them. My job included assignment every two weeks, e-mailed to me by my editor at the Ungio headquarters in New York City. The assignments ranged from political trends on campus, environmental initiatives to athletics. They were then posted on the Lehigh University section of the website, along with videos made by my friend, the media intern.

Something about the internship never sat well with me. I loved the opportunity to write more, and it was easy to write about events and people who were all around me, but the whole process seemed so impersonal. All of my interactions with my editor were via e-mail and I had little say in the editorial process besides the actually writing of the articles. These qualms turned out to be a moot point, because my internship was terminated by the end of the semester due to a lack of funding at the company.

Despite my brief exposure to the world of online journalism, I knew I didn’t like it. I missed being able to hold my completed story in my hand, and look over the shoulders of readers and see my name on the page. Also, if the website could not afford to keep on unpaid interns, what hope was there for their paid staff? When anyone can be a journalist, how valuable are professional ones, who maybe have better writing skills, but demand a paycheck in exchange for their work?

The world Gillmor describes in “We the Media,” ruled by bloggers and citizen journalist, is one I do not see myself part of, but instead as a reality I think I will have to come to terms with. Fortunately, the transition is still happening, and print publication still have a place in the lives of readers and lovers of paper like myself, while still allowing the hyper-accessible world of online media to fill the holes in the pages.

Business is anything but usual

Other than being able to sleep through it entirely, the best thing about mornings is being able to wake up to a hot cup of coffee. Unfortunately, the coffee maker in my house has a thick crust lining the pot from the previous owners, so in order for my good morning caffeine I have to venture into the world. Despite its over-commercialization and over-priced brews, I have nothing against Starbucks, because I can go into any one and know exactly what to order, exactly what I will get and I will get it fast. But a real, quality cup of Joe is a treat I have learned not to expect. A small company in Chicago has maintained the art of artisan roasting. Metropolis Coffee Company not only makes amazing coffee but it is making news for their business strategy: emphasizing communication with their customers so they are selling more than just coffee, but an experience, an ambiance and are creating a community both within their stores and around the world with the help of the internet.

Co-owner Tony Dreyfuss and his business partner and father Jeff Dreyfuss opened Metropolis in 2003. It quickly earned recognition from Chicago Magazine that names it the best latte in Chicago and Food and Wine that names it one of the country’s best coffee bars. Located within walking distance to Loyola University, the company has a collection of loyal local patrons, but wanted to expand their clientele to the greater Chicago-land area. AS a result of their anti-advertising mantra, they had to seek out alternative means to spread their message.

“We’d always sworn that we didn’t want to advertise,” said Tony said in an interview for 435digital.com. “It just felt stupid — like bending people’s wills. It didn’t really align with who we are.” This was when Jody Robbins and Rita Fisher, co-owners of Nimble Social Media, came into play. “Jody explained to me that your website is the basic information you want to get across about your company — social media is your personality,” Dreyfus said in the article.

Fisher helped create Metropoliscoffee.com, a website dedicated as much to the coffee as it is to its customers. It includes a blog, connections to their Facebook page and Twitter accounts, photos and other links. The website does not end there. Deryfuss takes the content and feedback very seriously, and all business decisions are based on customer input. When the company recently decided to stop offering dark roast coffee they turned to their followers on the website before those in the store. They announced the change via social media which gave their customers an opportunity to honestly express their feeling about it. The openness of the web provided the owners with unfiltered responses, both positive and negative, to the change.

It is this sort of relationship with customers that “The Cluetrain Manifesto” preaches through the use of the internet. Metropolis is returning to the traditional marketplace that the writers of “The Cluetrain Manifesto” are begging for a return to. Rather than being just faceless, voiceless consumers, the customers of Metropolis’ stores and website have an opportunity to communicate directly with the producers. They can look at a product, pick it up, taste it smell it and then either buy it with a smile and a compliment or throw it back in the makers face with a few harsh words.

It is the kind of model that works well for small businesses who have that family feeling, but the difficulty is translating these practices to big business. “The Cluetrain Manifesto” scorns big business for being trapped in the “business and usual model”: Relying on hierarchies, power struggles, races to the bottom line and bigger profits and hiding policies and facts behind veils of PR and advertising spin. It points out examples of business that have broken free from this mold, companies like Amazon.com, that depend on customer communication to sell products, but other companies who had their start outside the realm of the internet may have a more difficult time stepping away from their PR people and traditional advertising companies.

The basic principles that form the foundation of Metropolis’s social media campaign and “The Cluetrain Manifesto” can be applied to any company using the internet, which at this age of technology dependence is almost every company. The first step is establishing the company’s tone and mission, for Metropolis this is an earthy, almost exotic one mixed with urban chic. The website’s blue, purple and rust color scheme is contrasted by its black and white logo. They know who they are – a natural coffee company in the heart of Chicago, and that is exactly how they present themselves. Every company, big or small, had a purpose – a product or idea they are trying to sell – and making that purpose clear to customers is the first step in honest business.

The straightforward business model is necessary to build trust with customers, and this trust in necessary to facilitate the types of communication the internet supports. As “The Cluetrain Manifesto” explains, silence is the worst approach to dealing with business on the internet, regardless if the business is directly involved with conversation with customers, the customers will still talk. By facilitating conversation though their website, Metropolis remains at the heart of customer service. They know what their customers want, their likes, dislikes and needs. Most importantly, they respond to them and build a repertoire that keeps their customers coming back for seconds. With the resources available to big business, there is no reason that a similar repertoire cannot be established, not every employee needs to be in direct contact with the customers the serve, but the lines of communication need to remain open and honest within companies and with the market.

The most important thing about this new open relationship, like any relationship, is there all no rules to what this communication needs to be, it just needs to be there. It can be serious, or sarcastic or funny. It does not have to be dry and technical; it can be entertaining and clever. The unique voices of the customers and company are able to finally shine thanks to the ease of the internet.

Does any of this sound difficult or outrageous? No, but as “The Cluetrain Manifesto” points out, change is hard. Businesses have been following a particular model for decades, and for most of those decades the model worked. The internet changed everything, and businesses need to adapt or eventually die. It’s time to return to survival of the fittest, and those who refuse to change will become extinct. We must return to the market style of our ancestors, as “The Cluetrain Manifesto” says, and go back to the style of vendors selling their wares directly to the customers on the basis that their product is the best not because their commercials are the most clever or their PR and communication departments are the best at hiding the truth.

A few tips about “The Tipping Point”

Well done Malcolm Gladwell for stringing together over 250 pages of common sense rambling with some supposedly relevant research to create a national bestseller. First of all, I want to praise Gladwell’s writing, because regardless of the content, the book is well written. I would expect nothing less from a staff writer for The New Yorker. I always find it difficult to criticize something that has received so much praise and success. Who am I to say the popular opinion is wrong? I don’t read very much, I have little background in the principles Gladwell is examining and I only read the book once and therefore could only take it in on a surface level. I will do my best to strip down the basic concepts of “The Tipping Point” and point out the flaws in his tips.

“The Tipping Point” explains how phenomena, epidemics and trends explode from simple ideas and everyday sources. The root of these explosions can be traced back to three different kinds of people: Connectors, Mavens and Salesmen and three situational characteristic: The Law of the Few, The Stickiness Factor and The Power of Context. He opens the book with the loveable and memorable story of Hush Puppies, a small shoe company that went mainstream thanks to some indie trendsetters. This anecdote got me hooked, mostly because as a child my next door neighbor worked for Hush Puppies during their explosion into popularity. The droopy eyed dog mascot that could be found all over their house is permanently embedded into my psyche. For nostalgia and simplicity sake, I will continue with this example as I attempt to delegitimize the ideas Gladwell presents as groundbreaking and innovative.

First, I will look at his theory of the Law of the Few and the people that spread epidemics. The idea here is it only requires a small amount of people for an idea to tip, but the types of people that the ideas initially reaches are what is important. In the story of the Hush Puppies tip, Gladwell says a few trendy kids in the East Village and Soho neighborhood of Manhattan started wearing the shoes as part of their alternative fashion sense and the trend spread to designers and then all over the country. By his theory, in order for an idea to tip it needs to be touched by a connector: a naturally social person who knows a lot of people, a maven: an expert in a certain field with credibility, and a salesperson: a particularly persuasive individual. Theoretically, a pair of Hush Puppies could have landed in the hands of any of these types of people, and probably did. Some connector in the East Villiage bought a pair and his abundance of friends saw, one of these friends was a maven in the fashion industry who gave credibility to these shows, and another friend may have been a salesperson able to convince others to buy the shoes as well. Bam, a trend is set. Seems simple, but maybe it’s a little too simple. Gladwell takes the facts of this story and twists them to apply to his theory, while ignoring others. The shoes could have fallen into the hands of any of these people somewhere besides New York and the idea never would have tipped, and Hush Puppies would remain another dying shoe company with a limited market appeal. Or if the Hush Puppies trend still began in New York, but once they fell into the hand of the mainstream designers the public didn’t buy it. Gladwell does a good job of explaining why things that have tipped tipped, but conversely I am sure there a hundreds of trends that could have happened the same way that did not tip. He is exploring the foundation of the indie movement. He is looking at one trend (a brand of shoes) within the larger fashion world that I do not think he understands. He somewhat addresses this issue later when he talks about the idea of coolness in regards to teenage smoking. A cool person is someone that does not follow the norm that takes something old and makes it exciting because it is different. Gladwell presents this idea as new itself, trying to make it or himself cool, but the concept is as old as time. People strive to be different and unique, and the wearers of Hush Puppies were only trying to do that. I see the Hush Puppies trend as nothing more than a fluke.

Gladwell’s next supposedly revolutionary idea is the Stickiness Factor, tweaking the way an idea is present to make it memorable and clearly presented. Um, well, obviously everyone who has an idea wants to share it in a manner that people will remember it! In this chapter he throws a lot of psychology at the reader, a quite sticky trick, but I think it’s just hot air. His case study for this factor is children’s television, which works well because there is a lot of research and the attention span of children is easier to research than adults. Once again, Gladwell takes an idea that proves his theory and applies it, but fails to do the reverse and prove his greater theory can apply to anything else. Going back to the Hush Puppies case study, the stickiness factor here would be similar to the coolness factor. The shoes were presented in a way that made them appealing to the fashion conscientious public. How this idea is any different than what forms the billion-dollar advertising industry is beyond me. I think Gladwell is trying to simplify and idea by ignoring the bigger picture. Advertisers dedicate their lives to study how to package products to make them appealing, but it is not as simple as making it “irresistible” to the public, as Gladwell states. The same concepts that works for the products Gladwell called sticky, such as Hush Puppies, could be applied the same way to a different product and it would not tip. The market and consumers are much more complex than the psychological tidbits Gladwell attempts to force upon them. If he went back to the same stores where the Hush Puppies trend began, he will find dozens of trends that only still exist in that limited market and never tipped. What made Hush Puppies sticky and not a different brand of shoes? On a similar note, Gladwell can look at dozens of trends that tipped for reasons that’s fall outside of his golden rules such as popular fashion designers, for example, or magazines such as Vogue. Trends are created and spread like wildfire after being introduces by one of these sources and psychology has little to do with it. People buy a new Louis Vitton bag because it’s an expensive status symbol, and they model their wardrobe after the spring lineup in Vogue for no other reason than because Vogue says so. Maybe certain products benefit from a stickiness factor, but most of the time it is less formulaic.

The final concept is The Law of Context is probably to most ridiculous and farfetched of the bunch. Once again Gladwell pushes the psychology button too far. He goes on about the Good Samaritan theory and the law of 150, both very interesting psychological concepts, but too widely applied to his underlying idea. The factor that does hold some water is his emphasis on the important of environmental factors and peer pressure. This applies perfectly to my ideas about The Hush Puppies tip. The Hush Puppy trend could only have tipped in Ney York during the mid-1990s, the environment was right for that trends to start end evolve, oh, if only this is what Gladwell means when he writes about environment. Nope, he has to make it much more complicated and less applicable. Gladwell explains that tiny differences in the environment have a greater impact than big changes. The example he uses is the crime epidemic, and how cleaning graffiti and making basic repairs decreased crime in New York City. That’s great and it is probably correct, but once again, is it relevant? The hipster atmosphere that surrounded the Hush Puppies movement may have contributed to the creation of the trend because it brought the trendy people together, but it cannot be credited for producing the trend or even catalyzing it. Despite taking up two chapters of the book I’m still not entirely sure what the Law of Context is. Which, I suppose is the underlying theme of the entire book: a lot of smart sounding writing with little substance. It is well researched, that is undeniable, but poorly executed. I think the problem lies in the fact that the concept was not clearly defined to start, so Gladwell, in his attempt to turn a half baked idea into a book, threw together as many facts as he could that sort of fit, and then sought out case studies that proved his “theories.” I look back to the cover of the book for some direction, “how little things can make a difference.” Yes, Gladwell, they can, of course they can, anyone who has spent any time thinking about life and how events come to be or events that have passed can tell you that, but the important question he failed to answer is how, why and if the little things are any more significant than the big ones.

Altogether, Gladwell’s ideas make an over-complicated how-to guide for sparking some trends and epidemics, but the book as a whole, I feel, fails at being relevant or meaningful. So, yes, well done Mr. Gladwell, if only you had included a chapter on how you got “The Tipping Point” to tip. Maybe then, wannabe authors with actually innovative ideas could get their work into the public eye.