Having read through the eBay-Skype PowerPoint justification, I guess I should be ashamed of myself that I didn’t get the deal before. It’s the Cluetrain, baby: If markets are conversations, then enabling the conversation enables the market and eBay is the new market. And if trust is king, then being able to talk to the person who’s trying to sell you something enhances trust and increases value. So I finally get the theory. The practice is another matter….
Posts about open-source
Distribution is not king.
Content is not king.
Conversation is the kingdom.
The war is over and the army that wasn’t even fighting — the army of all of us, the ones who weren’t in charge, the ones without the arms — won. The big guys who owned the big guns still don’t know it. But they lost.
In our media 2.0, web 2.0, post-media, post-scarcity, small-is-the-new-big, open-source, gift-economy world of the empowered and connected individual, the value is no longer in maintaining an exclusive hold on things. The value is no longer in owning content or distribution.
The value is in relationships. The value is in trust.
I’m writing this post — grappling with perhaps the most fundamental truth of my brief blogging career — because I still hear big-media colleagues insisting — or perhaps they’re praying — that content is king, that owning content is where the value is, that equity will still grow from exclusivity.
But no: Content is transient, its value perishable, its chance of success slight. You think your article or book or movie or song or show is worth a fortune and in a blockbuster economy, if you were insanely lucky, you could be right. But now anyone can create content. And thanks to the power of the link — and the trust it carries — anyone can get the world to see it. Is some of this new load of content crap? Sure. Lots of content in the old media world was crap, too. But don’t calculate the proportions. Look instead at the gross volume of quality: There’s simply more good stuff out there than there could be before. And it can be created at incredibly low or no cost.
There is no scarcity of good stuff. And when there is no scarcity, the value of owning a once-scarce commodity diminishes and then disappears. In fact, it’s worse than that: Owning the content factory only means that you have higher costs than the next guy: You own the high-priced talent or infrastructure while your new competitor owns just her own talent and a PC.
Distribution? It was already dethroned — though, again, the old barons of bandwidth don’t know it. Owning the printing press, broadcast tower, cable plant, movie theater, or chain of stores is a cost burden when your competitors and customers can, without friction, effort or cost, bypass your distribution and even your marketing. You thought you “owned the customer.” But all you owned was the bill they didn’t want to pay — that and assets that cost you money. It just doesn’t pay to own the assets anymore. Oh, yes, you can still milk cash from them. But can you get growth?
Over and over, I hear old-industry guys arguing that you have to own these assets because that’s where the equity is, that’s where Wall Street puts the value. But since when was following Wall Street a strategy?
So where is the value now? Is there value now? Of course, there is. The value is — thank you, Cluetrain — in the conversation, in the relationship. The value is in trust.
This is so hard for those of us trained in the old economy to get our heads around. That is why, like an ape on 2001, I keep poking at this obelisk to figure out what it is.
But in this new age, you don’t want to own the content or the pipe that delivers it. You want to participate in what people want to do on their own. You don’t want to extract value. You want to add value. You don’t want to build walls or fences or gardens to keep people from doing what they want to do without you. You want to enable them to do it. You want to join in.
And once you get your head around that, you will see that you can grow so much bigger so much faster with so much less cost and risk.
So don’t own the content. Help people make and find and remake and recommend and save the content they want. Don’t own the distribution. Gain the trust of the people to help them use whatever distribution and medium they like to find what they want.
In these new economics, you want to stand back and interfere and restrict as little as possible. You want to reduce costs to the minimum. You want to join in wherever you are welcome.
So in the content world, it is better help enable and be part of fluid networks of content than it is to create and own content (see: open-source ad networks, specialized search, remixing tools, sharing communities). It is better to find new efficiencies than new blockbusters (see: Lulu.com, the Redhat founder’s new on-demand book publishing enterprise). It is better to gather than create (see: hyperlocal citizens’ media vs. big, old, expensive, exclusionary newsrooms). It is better to share trust than to horde it.
In this model, newspapers have a problem: They want to control information and the means of sharing rather than enabling that sharing. Book publishers are inefficient as hell: They have to guess what the audience wants rather than helping questioners find answerers. Entertainment producers are doomed to support extravagant costs: They have raised the bar to success beyond their own reach. Cable companies and broadcasters are lost: They have no idea how to serve people, only masses. Marketers and their agencies are befuddled: They have evolved into beasts without ears. And — here’s my favorite — AOL has it utterly, completely, spectacularly wrong: It wanted to control content and distribution and controlled nothing at all.
I like to think that I live and work at the intersection of big, old media and small, new unmedia. But I may be wrong. I sometimes wonder whether there is an intersection after all. I hope there is. But I’m still looking for its exact coordinates. I wonder whether they are compatible, because their business models and worldviews and DNA are just so different. It’s hard for somone raised on the value of owning content and owning distribution to let go of exclusivity and instead value openness and participation.
If I have to pick sides, you can guess what side I pick: small, not big; open, not closed; shared, not owned; enabled, not excluded.
Yet once you think about it, this isn’t so new, really: Isn’t journalism supposed to be about building trust (so how did it become so untrusted?)? Aren’t brands supposed to be about communicating trust (so how did so many of them become so untrustworthy?)?
In the end, isn’t the only asset worth owning trust?
Content is not king.
Distribution is not king.
Trust is king in the kingdom of conversation.
Via the Bubble Generation, I came to The Business Experiment, which aims to start the first open-source company, its fate decided by its — we’ll need a new word for this — members. I was going to nay-say the notion that inspiration and passion for a new business idea can come from the often-leveling effect of the wisdom of the crowd. But whatdyaknow, I go to the site and its creator says that’s precisely the lesson he has learned: He wished he has started with an idea (or, I’d say, even a problem to solve) and then turned it over to the community because inspiration and execution are different muscles. This will be well worth following. I also emailed pal Steve Baker, who’s following it here.
What’s so great about guys hacking the Toyota Prius is not just that it shows the potential of fuel economy if only Detroit/Tokyo would get behind it, but also that it shows the power of open-sourcing your product. This guy did the work of a dozen guys in lab coats and it didn’t cost Toyota a thing. If companies would let their customers improve their products, everyone would win. I keep pointing to the mods a blogger proposes on Treonauts. And come to think of it, why does Apple say you void your warranty if you open up one of their boxes; they should reward you for opening up the box and helping them think out of it.
Scoopt wants to represent citizen journalists when they witness and record and event and want to sell their images to big media for big bucks. B&C writes about it today. A reporter from elsewhere asked me about it; his story didn’t appear when I thought it would, so here’s what I said about the notion of Scoopt.
I’m not sure this will work because I think we are seeing a culture shift in the ethics of news, from the proprietary to the shared, from closed to open.
I am all for citizen journalists making a buck (having made a few as a journalist myself). But…
I wonder whether there’s a conflict between the inherently open and immediate world of citizens’ media and the closed, exclusive-addicted world of big media: Will citizen journalists decide not to share what they see so they can sell an exclusive to a paper or TV show? If they share their material online first, doesn’t that lower the value of what they’re selling to media, because it’s no longer exclusive.
But then one needs to wonder whether the age of the exclusive is over, now that we live in a world where every witness can be a reporter. That affects not only the citizen journalist — because while you’re trying to negotiate a high price for your images, the next guy with the camera phone is ready to sell his — but also the professional journalist, who now finds that his eyewitnesses are his competitors. The internet is a scarcity killer: Online, there is always somebody else who can tell the story, somebody else who can publish the story.
Note that in the London bombings, the Guardian, the BBC, and other outlets asked for people to send them images — free — and they did. Many of these became iconic images of the event. Now if people hold back those images in hopes of selling them, they lose their immediacy and thus some of their value.
I think that in major news events, the ethic of the web will prevail: People will share what they know.
One place where money will be spent by big media is for pictures of celebrities taken by citizen paparazzi. A good shot of a kanoodling couple of stars on the beach will always be a scoop worth paying for.