Last October, we explored the value of social-networking sites in promoting products and services and developing relationships. The Palo Alto, Calif.-based Facebook had emerged as the front-runner in attracting new demographics, including vast numbers of new users in Europe and Latin America. Facebook was also the darling of the over-25 set, with older users joining the fold daily.
Political candidates and businesses also were signing up in droves, convinced they would need a Facebook presence to reach target markets. Stafford Kendall, co-founder and principal of the local Web site design firm Covalent Logic pointed out, “It’s no longer the playground of 18- and 22-year-olds. People use the medium because that’s where the eyeballs are.”
Seven months later, the numbers have further exploded on the 5-year-old site, but the conversation is not about its popularity among Generation Xers, but about its addictive, time-wasting dark side. The question in the blogosphere seems to be how to balance the site’s utility with its self-indulgence. In other words, is it a place you can reasonably expect to do business, or are users so distracted they can’t possibly see what’s being targeted at them?
I opened an account prior to writing last fall’s piece, and was instantly hit with friend requests from my hometown, college and around Baton Rouge. The smallest category of friends fell into the professional colleague camp and the largest included people from my past—some good friends, and a lot of folks I didn’t know well. I could have declined their friendship, but it seemed such a rude thing to do in this jolly new cybersandbox.
But I should have. Before I knew it, my Facebook world was replete with incongruous types who, like oil and water, appeared daily on the screen in front of me posting rapid-fire comments and plastering up pictures of themselves and their loved ones. Some were hot under the collar about gay-marriage rights being rescinded in California and others were disgusted by President Barack Obama’s election. I found myself logging on a couple of times a day to read their comments and to post my own, spending way more time than I had making sure what I had to say was pithy enough to spark a reaction. But when it was, there was an egomaniacal payoff.
In addition to the conservative-liberal binary in my Facebook world, there was also the polarity of old friends and new bosses. Old friends do things like post pictures of you and your high school boyfriend. Mine were innocent enough, but what professional female wants her 1980s hairdo and Madonna rags trotted out in front her boss, in this case Business Report editor and Facebook friend, JR Ball?
Through the noise, a million inane ads of products I’d never consider buying flashed across my screen. I noted them just to see if Facebook’s alleged ability to predict consumer behavior based on profiles worked. In my case it didn’t, and I gave the site plenty to go on.
On the business-development end, one professional writing opportunity did emerge, but that scant gold nugget was outweighed by what felt like constant frivolity, like crafting my list of favorite books, TV shows, bands and movies, a response that took as much time as writing an article for which I would have been paid. Short on time and lacking self-discipline, I dropped out.
Will I pay a price? Maybe. The medium itself—a multimedia platform in which you can interact, react, weigh in and potentially be persuaded to buy something—is here to stay. It’s one we need to master, like we did e-mail and Googling several years ago, when other naysayers pointed out the inherent uselessness of those vehicles.
Still, the business application of Facebook needs to be carefully considered, particularly for vendors and service-providers attempting to target-market to audiences that are often more interested in catching up with old friends than shopping. It’s too early to get a good read on penetration. Facebook still is seeking its equilibrium, and even if you don’t play, it’s still worth watching.
