sell something, because people really aren’t on Facebook looking to buy. They’re looking to be entertained.
By “entertained” I don’t mean in the traditional sense of television. People on Facebook want to feel connected. In some ways, the experience online is more like live entertainment, akin to being at the theater or in the studio audience of a TV comedy. In addition to the energy you’re taking in from the performer, there’s the unquantifiable connectedness you feel with the audience around you. Facebook is a place, then, not only where you can laugh, wonder or curse at a video or image, but add your own thoughts and share in the thoughts of others immediately, in a kind of collective intelligence.
Yes, I know, it’s hard to say “collective” without thinking of the Borg.
To say simply that content is king when it comes to social media therefore misses half the point. You need content, yes, but it has to reflect the collective sensibilities of the fans, not just the imperatives or tastes of the entertainer. I believe it’s crucial to understand audience aspirations, commonalities and sensitivities, and to deliver the fans what they want. Only then will you have any chance of them giving a rat’s ass about what you have to say.
My Facebook page, you might say then, is basically a place where I post things that my fans like. That sounds simple, but many celebrities and brands have a hard time understanding this. Most people simply don’t care about the 10K race you sponsored. Instead, I’d prefer to put up a picture of a kid running it with prosthetic legs, and make that the focal point of a post.
Few of my posts are truly about me or my opinions. In fact, I’ve found that some fans have taken this principle a bit too far to heart. These fans’ feathers get quite ruffled whenever I happen to post something that relates directly to me, or I should say more specifically, my opinions. There are many examples of this. After the first Presidential debate between Obama and Romney, I posted an image of an armed gang of Muppets, furious that Romney had threatened to cancel Sesame Street , and openly declaring, “Shit just got real.” I found the picture wickedly funny, not only because Elmo, Grover and Cookie Monster were armed with knives, but also because they were paired with such a colorful caption.
I wasn’t prepared for the backlash from Romney supporters, who were more numerous than I’d assumed existed on what is essentially a liberal page. “Why don’t you C-list celebrities keep your opinions to yourselves?” “I liked this page for its humor, not liking it so much now for its politics.” “Shut up and keep to being funny, Mr. Takei. Don’t be so misinformed.”
Apparently, some fans can’t take a joke if it happens to bash their candidate. But being a person who normally wants to find the common ground beneath our many heels, I was bothered by the comments. There was something highly presumptuous about the criticism. They assumed I was not free to post whatever I wanted to on my own page. For starters, they insisted that it was my job to spend my free time making them laugh, with no thought to my own wants or needs.
I felt the rare need this time to respond, not only to make it clear that I took issue with these presumptions, but also because I knew it would only become worse with what I was about to post. You see, I had been approached earlier by the Obama campaign to record a couple of endorsement videos that encouraged Asian Pacific Islanders and LGBT individuals to get out and vote. I knew that a sizeable and vocal portion of my own fan base held different political beliefs than my own, ranging from Independent to Republican to Libertarian. Many were clearly not fans of the President and were eager to see him defeated. By using my fan page as a bully pulpit, even for a few posts, I was certain to see backlash.
And so I put out a simple and rare personal
By “entertained” I don’t mean in the traditional sense of television. People on Facebook want to feel connected. In some ways, the experience online is more like live entertainment, akin to being at the theater or in the studio audience of a TV comedy. In addition to the energy you’re taking in from the performer, there’s the unquantifiable connectedness you feel with the audience around you. Facebook is a place, then, not only where you can laugh, wonder or curse at a video or image, but add your own thoughts and share in the thoughts of others immediately, in a kind of collective intelligence.
Yes, I know, it’s hard to say “collective” without thinking of the Borg.
To say simply that content is king when it comes to social media therefore misses half the point. You need content, yes, but it has to reflect the collective sensibilities of the fans, not just the imperatives or tastes of the entertainer. I believe it’s crucial to understand audience aspirations, commonalities and sensitivities, and to deliver the fans what they want. Only then will you have any chance of them giving a rat’s ass about what you have to say.
My Facebook page, you might say then, is basically a place where I post things that my fans like. That sounds simple, but many celebrities and brands have a hard time understanding this. Most people simply don’t care about the 10K race you sponsored. Instead, I’d prefer to put up a picture of a kid running it with prosthetic legs, and make that the focal point of a post.
Few of my posts are truly about me or my opinions. In fact, I’ve found that some fans have taken this principle a bit too far to heart. These fans’ feathers get quite ruffled whenever I happen to post something that relates directly to me, or I should say more specifically, my opinions. There are many examples of this. After the first Presidential debate between Obama and Romney, I posted an image of an armed gang of Muppets, furious that Romney had threatened to cancel Sesame Street , and openly declaring, “Shit just got real.” I found the picture wickedly funny, not only because Elmo, Grover and Cookie Monster were armed with knives, but also because they were paired with such a colorful caption.
I wasn’t prepared for the backlash from Romney supporters, who were more numerous than I’d assumed existed on what is essentially a liberal page. “Why don’t you C-list celebrities keep your opinions to yourselves?” “I liked this page for its humor, not liking it so much now for its politics.” “Shut up and keep to being funny, Mr. Takei. Don’t be so misinformed.”
Apparently, some fans can’t take a joke if it happens to bash their candidate. But being a person who normally wants to find the common ground beneath our many heels, I was bothered by the comments. There was something highly presumptuous about the criticism. They assumed I was not free to post whatever I wanted to on my own page. For starters, they insisted that it was my job to spend my free time making them laugh, with no thought to my own wants or needs.
I felt the rare need this time to respond, not only to make it clear that I took issue with these presumptions, but also because I knew it would only become worse with what I was about to post. You see, I had been approached earlier by the Obama campaign to record a couple of endorsement videos that encouraged Asian Pacific Islanders and LGBT individuals to get out and vote. I knew that a sizeable and vocal portion of my own fan base held different political beliefs than my own, ranging from Independent to Republican to Libertarian. Many were clearly not fans of the President and were eager to see him defeated. By using my fan page as a bully pulpit, even for a few posts, I was certain to see backlash.
And so I put out a simple and rare personal
Similar Books
