Moving content from the producer to who's mentioned

One function of the marketing department of many companies is to collect (positive) references to them through various media: clippings and so on. These are valuable, presumably, because it's an authoritative source saying "this is worth paying attention to", and "this is news". It's social proof, as the buzz-word people call it.

Going one step further companies will sometimes pay to have a proper 'reprint' of their article done. This is the article reformatted as its own document and may be framed, or stuck inside a binder somewhere, or, more recently, uploaded to the company's website. The content is moved from the original to something that is now owned and controlled by the company mentioned, even if they don't own the copyright.

The file that's often produced is a pdf file, something that's suitable for printing, and reflects the heritage of the piece: it's a reworked piece of print. Despite Adobe's efforts pdfs just aren't the same as in-line content.

But with traditional content being online, and people becoming used to treating the internet as a big filing cabinet, there's more of a desire for a link to the article, and not a mere 'reprint.' Sometimes the two become confused in their minds, and in the content-producer's too.

There are problems with only having a link though. It assumes the source website will continue to operate in the foreseeable future. It also assumes the article will maintain the same address over time. Both assumptions are suspect, especially from an archival perspective.

As time goes on and presumably more and more content is only online, how can companies get those 'reprints' for the company scrapbook? The link is useful since it maintains the gravitas of authority - as long as it still works. The pdf is useful since it's better positioned for print. And copying the text, images and tagging that information correctly (date, source, etc) is probably important too.

Social Media commentary can not be seen as representative

The recent melding of 'Word of Mouth' with social media communications has some limitations that are only touched upon by commentators.

Word of mouth is now seen to be much more measurable, because online communications are more and more public and can be monitored more closely via rss feeds or Google News Alerts.

Most people do recognize that the demographics of the people who use these tools is skewed towards the young and tech-savvy. Sometimes there are remarks about who actually leaves comments (see Freakonomics blog). But there seems to be an underlying assumption that comments are representative of those who read the piece, or that twitter comments are representative of how the population at large is thinking about a particular subject.

Is this true?

In the newspaper industry there used to be a rule of thumb that for every letter you got expressing a particular point of view there were ten that were never written.

The thinking is erroneous. Certain types of people will write letters, lots of letters. Certain types of people will be drawn to leave comments on blogs: lots and lots of comments. This is well-known to publishers, and becomes an inside joke.

Comments on blogs is called a 'conversation' by the social media types who assume it's useful, and encourage it, much as editors feel that letters are useful too. Recognizing that a lot of that conversation is noise - or worse - they, like print editors, look to ways to enhance quality or allow the best comments to be highlighted.

The Twitter #motrin controversy in November, 2008 shows how skewed using social media as a way of measuring 'word of mouth' can be. A supposedly cute ad for pain relief turned, in theory, into a public relations nightmare. However, the nightmare evaporated within a week. It is no longer mentioned. It is forgotten.

It wasn't really 'word of mouth'. The activity measured was the reaction of a few high-strung people looking for something to freak out about.

No take-away here, I have no conclusions other than: caute!

Free, and not-so-free newspapers on the Skytrain

When the free dailies made their appearance the Skytrain was a rustle of paper.

Everyone, it seemed, picked them up or accepted them from the enthusiastic hawkers dressed in green or orange stationed just outside the entrance.

Not only that, but in contradiction to the accepted truth that print was a dying medium, they were being read.

They were the perfect size and thickness for the morning commute. A quick convenient read before being tossed into the giant yellow and grey bins Translink was forced to set up at stations. The bins were huge, and had to be emptied often.

"I read the headlines and look at the pictures," I overheard one person say to her companion. The celebrity gossip page, from what I see, is the most carefully studied page, the personal lives of thin blondes thousands of miles away meticulously dissected and analyzed.

Fast-forward to the present. The hawkers are still there, cheerfully greeting riders and offering their wares, and people are still accepting them, but not in the same numbers as previously. Instead of a sea of newsprint on the train there's a crowd of people, some of whom are reading or clutching their free copy. I imagine it's a decline that can be expected after the novelty wears off and old habits re-assert themselves.

The papers themselves are thicker, have gone through a few design changes, and have more advertising in them. They've become mainstream and predictable, and part of the daily routine of certain people, which I suppose is what a publisher would want. Now they have more precise demographics.

Have the free dailies changed commuters' reading habits?

Although it's only anecdotal, I think there are fewer Sun and Province papers on the Skytrain since they've started.

The other day I was shocked (yes, shocked!) to see three people reading the Vancouver Sun on the train. I usually average one every other day. The next day it was back to normal, the previous day obviously an outlier that brought the decline of that paper into focus.

Usually there are one or two Provinces. It's a tabloid and so easier to hold, manipulate and read in crowded situations. It's almost always open to the sports section.

Oddly enough, the Toronto-centric Globe and Mail can also usually be spotted awkwardly folded and crimped.

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Why public art galleries are a silly and useless activity. Mostly.

Yuri and I went to an opening at the Vancouver Art Gallery on Friday, February 6. I think it was 2009. I forget the name of the show. It was forgettable, as was most of the stuff that was displayed.

Bear in mind that I do have a history of art-making and and education. I even used to be a member of the VAG, subscribe to Canadian Art (lo these many years ago), and worked for Vanguard Magazine, which had split off from the VAG to become an independent Art Criticism magazine (don't forget to capitalize those words). I was deep into it. I'm not ignorant.

A few keywords, or tags as the kids all call them now, that came out of the experience of watching the gallery's patrons were:

• arrogant
• conceited
• earnest
• foppish
• posturing

Yuri used the word 'assholes', but I feel that's a bit strong. They'd be assholes if they did me wrong. Maybe they did Yuri wrong, but I don't know any of them. To me, they're amusing. And a little sad.

What's sad about the whole enterprise aren't these pretentious artists, their mothers and the cool art lovers, but that all this useless, poorly conceived and not-that-well executed stuff is in an expensive downtown building and is propped up by an institution that has to justify this ridiculous practice.

It is inconceivable that an creation like the Vancouver Art Gallery could ever exist if there wasn't several hundred years of cultural pressure to have one. Like a ballet it's rarely seen but we all know we should have one, shouldn't we?

Because there's no economic or spiritual reason for these exhibitions, the Art Institution (remember the caps!) has to justify it with the only thing left: obfuscation disguised as academic discussion and a high-minded attitude. Acrobatic word-play, appeals to vague sentiments of 'culture' (it goes good with apple pie) and civic pride, plus scientific instruments to measure humidity are the tools it uses to keep from wasting and withering away. Questions about its existence are brushed aside as coming from idiots and the uneducated -- but wait! We have outreach programs and docents leading tours to reach even them!

In the end, however, it ends up looking like a black-tie-optional community fair of crafts, or perhaps the year-end showing of primary-school students' work. Great if your kid's stuff is there, but otherwise pretty boring and dull.