I don’t use Klout (and have no desire to), but I thought this was a brilliant take on it as well as all social media:
When I was growing up, what we knew about each other wasn’t called data. It was called interaction, stories, and information. It came in the form of experience and shared events, gossip and oral history, and reports and report cards. Not every story told about us was unbiased, accurate, or even true. …
I had high hopes for Klout when it started, though I thought they were taking something close to impossible in trying to quantify influence. I was interested to see how they would approach it, hoping they might identify something useful toward sorting the gamers and spambots from the people who were making the social web work. Did I think they would identify true influence? Not really. But I thought they might find a stone of solid respect around engagement activity that was worth looking at. It seemed a big quest, but possible. …
[But] I became more aware that my data, your data, our stories are their product and they seemed to become less aware of the responsibility that might come with a offering product like that. …
In the process of opting out, I was faced with a list of options that asked why. I was looking for one that said “Changes in the algorithm” or “Too many changes.” I found it telling that the only choice I found that might describe my reason was “I don’t like my Klout Score.” That, of course, implies something that could be all about my ego and not in the least about their product.
It seems like there’s a new social network sprouting up every day, and each comes with its own numbers and metrics and ability to share that data to other social networks. And somewhere along the way, we’ve bought into this notion that all those numbers and metrics somehow mean something, that they define who we are, not just to strangers who “follow” us on the Internet but to ourselves. When I look at myself, do I see a devoted husband, follower of Christ, and loving father? Or do I see someone that has X number of Facebook friends, Y number of Twitter followers, and a Klout score of Z?
An app called Path recently relaunched, designed to be a “personal social network” in which you’re supposed to share literally everything (including when you go to sleep and when you wake up) with your most intimate circle of social network contacts. Oh, and it gives you the option to broadcast those entries to Facebook and Twitter as well since everyone else needs to know those things, too, right? And of course, Facebook recently bought check-in-turned-travel network Gowalla in order to enhance its Timeline feature so that users can document their entire lives (going back to when they were born!) on that network. Because apparently everyone on Facebook really needs to know what I was doing when I was 2. Can I just ask a dumb question here?
What the hell is wrong with people?
I’m sorry, but as much as I like Twitter and have learned to tolerate Facebook, I can’t for the life of me figure out why I need to share every single thing that happens in my entire life with the Internet. Or why anyone would care in the first place. First of all, the lady that wrote the article is exactly right: our lives are not data. All those numbers you see everywhere? They mean absolutely nothing. So stop chasing after them.
Secondly, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to share certain experiences with other friends, and I think there’s a lot of value to be found with building connections with people on sites like Twitter. But it’s one thing to share a unique experience and quite another to tweet every frickin’ thing that happens in your life 24/7. I’ve used Foursquare in the past and actually recently considered starting to use it again, but honestly the whole idea creeps me out a little bit. When I was regularly using Gowalla and Foursquare, I did it for the game aspect, the virtual rewards in the form of pins and badges. But I hated the feeling that I was somehow obligated to check in everywhere I went just to keep adding to my numbers. Stop for gas? Check in. Go through the drive-thru? Check in. Go on a date with my wife? Check in. When do I stop posting about my life and actually start living it?
Klout is supposed to measure your online “influence”. In other words, how big your “personal brand” is and therefore how important you are, but frankly it’s just a bunch of crap. Yeah, I want people to like me, and yeah, I love feeling admired and respected for what I do. But those numbers and scores and metrics will never equal respect and admiration. Besides, whatever happened to John 3:30? ”He [Jesus] must become greater; I must become less.” I guess the Klout folks didn’t get that memo.
Again, there’s nothing wrong being on Twitter or Facebook or Foursquare or whatever. But there’s a difference between living life and tweeting about it. And the sooner we draw the distinction, the quicker we can go back to being friends, not just followers.
Previously:
Quitter
Proof that in social networks, smaller is actually better
Who are you following?
Beacon, privacy, and this blog
