The totally annoying, often wonderful lack of control you have in the social web
I’m reading Dave Evans new book, Social Media Marketing in an Hour a Day. It’s excellent. Even though I consider myself somewhat knowledgeable in social media, and even do trainings on the topic, there is so much I’m learning. I highly recommend it, for everyone from beginners to intermediate social media folks. I also recommend Allison Fine’s book (“Momentum”) if you want more of the background on the social web.
Here’s a key point Dave makes far more eloquently than I ever have:
“You’ve got to give up control in order to gain a presence in the conversations that matter.”
What he means is, you can’t control the conversation online. And that conversation REALLY matters. To be a part of it, you have to cede control and listen, then participate. And you have to do so honestly. Because disclosing who you are is key to building trust.
I say this all the time, less succinctly, but I’ll admit this is easier said than done. When you experience this lack of control, it is not fun or easy. It’s often irritating. But you have to do as he says, and over time, you’ll appreciate the experience and its value.
I’ll give you a personal example. A few days ago, you may have read my post, The Perils of the Pre-Ask. My point was as a marketer, you should always ask directly for something. You should not just talk about yourself or have “awareness” as your goal—you should always be focused on getting someone to act in some way.
It got picked up in a few places. Peter Panepento of the Chronicle of Philanthropy’s Prospecting Blog interpreted my post this way: that you should always ask people for money. Then a bunch of people understandably assumed this is what I was saying and that I don’t believe in cultivating relationships or asking for something other than money. This killed me, since I’m constantly telling folks NOT to treat donors like ATM machines. It was painful. It was annoying. I wanted to yell at Peter for starting the whole thing (sorry Peter, I’m your fan, but I’m just being honest and holding myself up as a case study.) But I didn’t. Because that would be wrong. He was taking my premise, riffing on it and generating a conversation, and that’s what blogging is about. Kivi picked up Peter’s pickup, adding her own comments, which made me happier.
This is CONVERSATION.
So I went onto Peter’s blog, identifying myself clearly, thanking the commenters, agreeing with some of their key points, and explaining the interpretation of my post was not what I was trying to say. (Sadly, I did this a day late because I’m behind on my day job, so that’s not best practice, but better late than never.)
I also sent Peter an email personally (because I know him) and said thank you for the post—and clarified my point.
Now I’m continuing the conversation here.
That’s social media. I’m a participant, just like anyone else. So “all” I can do is to participate.
The good news, while that being “just” a participant can feel powerless, it’s quite powerful. Honestly and directly and openly being a participant can have a really good outcome. Beth Kanter recently shared another example of this that I experienced. It’s a good read. Actually, everything Beth writes is good. So read her blog regularly if you don’t already.
The moral of the story? Participate, in the good and the bad, openly. It’s powerful stuff. If you listen, you learn. Those folks have much to teach you, and much to share. And while it feels dangerous at times, it’s more dangerous not to participate. As Dave says:
“On the social web, your absence is conspicuous. Failing to participate retards the advancement of trust. In fact, it can increase the likelihood of mistrust.”

I agree with the premise that you cede control by participating in the online conversations. The truth is that the conversations are happening online whether you are a part of them or not. The choice is to engage and make your voice heard or be left out.