TMI

John Stossel

Too Much Information. We’re not just swimming in it – we’re soaking in it.

I’ve long held the notion that children in the United States would do better in school if they just had the confidence to believe they could in fact understand things. Instead, in my humble opinion, they are psyched out by the overload of data that envelopes us all. And if you can’t possibly keep up with all that stuff that’s already happened, then how can you ever be hip to the now?

I’m going to break this meme up, because I see where TMI is warping our sensibilities at two different levels – macro and micro. As I finish those particular essays, I’ll link across to them.

Micro Inundation

At the micro level, TMI strikes us in two ways: inbound and outbound. Outbound, we obsess about ourselves, and are willing to share anything and everything about us because that’s the only way we can be heard above the din. Additionally, we get so enamored with the endless variety of trees, we not only miss the forest – the forest is burning! We’ve allowed these trivial pursuits to pollute our thinking. If a little information is a good thing, then by all means let’s pile on more! Our worship for detail has diverted our appreciation for small truth, undiluted. We can’t write a short, clear sentence anymore. Inbound, we stream tickers and surround ourselves with a river of news, because it makes us seem in touch with the things we aren’t reading. We feel important because of our proximity to the information, and are tickled that it is available.

Macro Inundation

At the macro level, our institutions are continuing to focus on ever smaller units of time. Significance is placed on the tipping points, and not on the years of leaning and shoving that got us to that equilibrium. Context is all but gone in modern reporting.

Take the Dow Jones and NASDAQ for example. There were people, years ago, who got the daily newspaper just to see what the stocks had done yesterday. Those with significant investments couldn’t wait that long, and had special devices installed that would automate the information in something approximating real time. When computers starting becoming ubiquitous, a younger Michael Bloomberg changed the platform of the ticker, made a billion dollars with his service, and now is able to run for President if he so chooses. Where we used to look at trends and natural flow, we now react and jump to spikes and dips, as if there were any legitimate explanation other than random events and non-linear dynamics.

All I know is that in my former career, if we ever had a 200-300 point drop in the Dow, we’d invariably have a producer waving arms in the air, scrambling us at DefCon 5 across town to find a stockbroker, so we could Generic chart 2tell people what they need to do with their 401-Ks.” I had a suggestion. “How about we tell them to increase their investment percentage. If stock prices are lower, they’ll be in a better position for a rebound.” Naturally, I was usually met with stares, as they looked for someone more “normal” to assign the story to. As you can imagine, I also gave up on trying to pitch the Dollar Cost Average Explainer piece.

It’s not enough that we swim in Too Much Information — both in the forests and in the trees. When all you had was a daily newscast, you had 24 hours to digest an event and place it in context. When there were several newscasts in a day, you had a matter of hours to discern, divine, and divulge the truth. Now the clock never stops, and it’s a matter of pure regurgitation. Since every event now carries the significance and weight of being “Now,” we have no choice but to treat all moments as being equal.

I really like the news philosophy of John Stossel, who feels important news happens slowly:

John Stossel“We do the worst on the slower stories. Most of the important things that happen… are, I think, the slow developments: the development of the computer chip, the way Hewlett-Packard was run, the invention of the birth-control pill, the sexual revolution, changing attitudes. Those things don’t happen today; they happen this month, this year. We do a bad job covering that.”

Lest you think this is a new threat, that quote was first published in April 1997. We’ve always been tempted by the lure of Too Much Information. It’s just that now we have ever more opportunities to drown ourselves in it.

Ode to Stockdale

Perhaps the most famous quote in the modern era of presidential debates is:

“There you go again.”

- Ronald Reagan, to Walter Mondale

The most famous quote in the history of vice-presidential debates?

“Senator, you’re no Jack Kennedy”

- Sen. Lloyd Bentsen, to Sen. Dan Quayle

Ah – but the most relevant quote in the history of VP yawn-fests is:

“Who am I? Why am I here?”

- Adm. James Stockdale

 

I find myself relating a lot to the Admiral about now, because my “contributing blogger” status at Now is Gone is a bit of a stumper. I didn’t write the book. I just answered a few of Geoff’s questions about a project. I’m also not one of those PR 2.0 stalwarts like Brian Solis. I mean, c’mon – his blog is even named PR 2.0! So… Who am I, and Why am I here?

Six months ago, I wasn’t a blip on Livingston’s radar, not enough of a bug to splatter his windshield as he zoomed by. I provided no buzz for the bin. Then he contacted me about using some of my communications work with the Red Cross as a case study in the implementation of new media platforms. That’s what he called it, anyway. I called it ‘problem solving on the cheap.’

Forgive me for over-reaching on the self-deprecation, but I really am a Nobody. But as we discovered over dinner (Geoff picks up a generous tab), I am a Nobody with some different ideas about the future of all these techno-societal innovations. I’m not schooled in PR – took my first job three-and-a-half years ago, and desperately set out to learn as much as I could about PR from the internet. I didn’t know that I was really learning more about ‘online PR’, or whatever it is we call these things these days. I also didn’t know that I was happily splashing around in a muddy, poorly-defined patch of land that sits at the crossroads of several traditional disciplines.

I’ve been told that my blog, Occam’s RazR, is not a PR blog. (No hard feelings.) I know it is not a Marketing blog, nor a MarCom, and definitely not an Advertising blog. I’m glad it is not – because I don’t think I could handle being rejected for the Ad Age Power 150 on so many simultaneous levels.

No – I am the owner of a Communications blog. I talk about pretty much whatever I want, coming from this mindset: stuffing complex truths in simple packages. Sometimes it is just a brief original statement – sometimes a reflection on the power of analogy – sometimes just a parody. But it is communications, and it is the piece of real estate where everyone is headed. The PR people, the Ad people, and the Marketing gurus are all going toward the same point. Not merging, mind you, because they all have different ways of measuring objectives and success. But the lines are blurring, because they are increasingly using the same tools. Ad people put their spots on YouTube hoping to spur sales, while the PR people do the same thing to pump goodwill or tell a story. Marketing people engage social networks to build brand awareness, while PR people do it to build brand relationships.

It’s fun to play in the mud – but I fear it won’t be fun for long if the different disciplines start getting territorial. Now is Gone – and the Lines are now Gone too. At least they are blurry, and they aren’t coming back. The sooner we identify ourselves as “communicators” first and by our objectives second, the better off we’ll be.

Who am I? I’m Ike Pigott, communicator.

Why am I here? Because I’m just as lost as you are. Now is Gone, and we’d better get on the stick because the first one to Tomorrow gets to make the rules.