Check out my social feeds lately and it’s like a cricket convention. Aside from the occasional Foursquare check-ins, which are inconsistent at best, there’s not much to see folks. I’m tired of “sharing.” There, I’ve said it. I’m over, finished, done with this second job that has spiraled into chore-dom. With some 1,000 friends/brands, across six different networks, all clamoring for my attention (and me for theirs), it’s an exhausting pursuit just to cut through the noise to get (and give) news anyone gives two hoots about (even with Hootsuite at the ready). Feeling overwhelmed by the whole social scene, I’ve — as the hippies phrased it —“dropped out.”
UNLIKE the freedom movement of the sixties, however, I do NOT feel liberated. I’m the Strategy Director at a digital marketing agency for cryin’ out loud. I can’t DROP OUT, right? I mean, what will my peers, clients and – perhaps more importantly – potential clients think when they go to validate my credentials by assessing my social activity? “She hasn’t posted in 3 weeks?!! Preposterous! How can I trust her to advise US?”
Maybe what’s preposterous are the expectations around my individual social activity. After all, do you ever see Don Draper taking an ad out for himself in The New Yorker? No, you don’t. It never would have happened. And it certainly wouldn’t have happened everyday, multiple times a day.
Of course, the internet has transformed us forever and we can’t look back – not that I even WANT to – but keeping pace with the current proliferation of new social sites and apps is not sustainable. Not for me, you OR your company. Furthermore, if I’m feeling this way – as an early adopter – isn’t that an indicator that the rest will follow? What happens when your tediously cultivated community decides to ‘drop out’? Or, at least, drop somewhere else?
[Excerpt, click on the link to read the rest of this post.]