Rant: Why are the Social Media "Experts" So Bad At It?

Those mystified by America’s love of "Jersey Shore" and inability to resist the constipated moans of Nickelback’s Chad Kroeger rest their fate upon one simple notion: popularity is not proof of quality.

When it comes to the world of "social media" and the experts that dominate it, that same message rings true.

Make no mistake—these "experts" are extremely savvy when it comes to accumulating followers, and they are very adept at connecting the brands and celebrities they represent to a mass audience. As far as the current notion of digital strategy is concerned, they probably deserve the heaps of praise and tens of thousands of dollars they receive.

But because the present framework of social media is so notably flawed, excelling at the status quo version of digital strategy is often a sign that the expert is not playing to the true strengths of the communication channel. He is excelling by being inherently bad at social.

To share or not to share

When we discuss the notion of "Liking" a brand, we typically focus on two potential motivations: publicly demonstrating one’s allegiance to the brand and/or identifying value in the content the brand shares.

One would think the same logic would ring true for individuals on Twitter, and in the case of celebrities, it absolutely does. Obvious pop culture icons like Justin Bieber and Katy Perry have millions and millions of followers, while comedians like Michael Ian Black, while not as popular as major A-list celebrities, amass followers due to their propensity for Tweeting witty one-liners.

Unfortunately, such elements of appeal are largely absent from the digital strategy community.

Some social experts might technically possess "name value" among Internet diehards, but rarely are they actual celebrities for whom executives proudly trumpet their fandom. More realistically, they are trading on the value of their wisdom, insights and experiences.

Given that construct, it would therefore seem intuitive for such strategists to post thoughts and advice for those looking to better satisfy their customers. They could draw on their unique skill for digitizing a brand to share best practices for using social, comment on new ad campaigns, discuss positive and negative customer experiences and even live-Tweet about the viewing experience of sports and sitcom broadcasts.

Why, then, do they so rarely deliver on that expectation?

Instead of injecting their unique personalities and unique perspectives into their Twitter accounts, far too many "power users" commit to nothing more than a link-sharing hub, delivering nary a single opinion, observation, insight, one-liner or criticism.

What did they think of the "Breaking Bad" season finale? No idea. What is their reaction to the new Microsoft Internet Explorer television campaign? Not a clue. Which organization recently wowed them with an effective Facebook campaign or impressive in-store experience? Do not hold your breath.

But what comes up when you type "customer" into Google News? Their Twitter feed is chock full of results for that.

Because, clearly, when it comes to locating anyone can get by searching Bing or checking big sites like Mashable and Advertising Age, we need the "experts" to do that work for us.

For all the mockery about someone like Kim Kardashian Tweeting about her clothing and workout routines, at least she is telling followers something about herself. She is using Twitter to develop her own unique social footprint, which certainly seems like the purpose of the communication channel.

Why do so few experts agree?

The great "follower" swindle

The answer is simple: the market does not enforce a higher standard.

Thousands of individuals will follow these experts without questioning whether that "follow" will yield them any value beyond the articles listing on Forbes.com. They do not seem unimpressed—they, in fact, seem to have the exact opposite reaction—to the lack of original, unique, identifiable content being delivered by these social mavens, and they therefore give the experts no motivation to try harder.

Well, that might not be entirely true.

In a society driven by a desire to win, it is hard to look away from the scoreboard when evaluating performance. When it comes to Twitter, Facebook and LinkedIn, follower, like and connection counts, respectively, represent the most obvious "scoreboards" and thus provide the clearest conception of success or failure.

The problem, however, is that none necessarily speaks to a far more valuable metric of social media excellence: engagement level.

People are naturally going to connect with those who share similar interests, and it is therefore a given that social experts who Tweet relevant customer strategy articles using relevant hash tags are going to attract followers from within that community. They will accumulate a valuable database to whom they can promote themselves and the brands they represent.

The problem, however, is that functioning as a social "aggregator" rather than a social "communicator" does not necessarily build unique engagement with followers. Followers might recognize the expert’s picture from his hundreds of Tweets every day, but as they get more and more accustomed to his habit of link-sharing, they will naturally become less and less convinced of his unique messaging.

And without that faith in the unique value he brings to the table, they will place less importance on his posts—whether they are link-shares or actual commentary—and thus minimize the engagement value he gets from his following.

So why do so many individuals continue to follow these professional aggregators? In some cases, they indeed appreciate the effort required in curating great content (but even this, unfortunately, is no guarantee that they care to engage meaningfully with the specific curator).

Many, however, are also looking to improve their own performance on the scoreboard.

Enter the #followback principle, which is one of the most destructive elements of Twitter. Insofar as we all want to build our followings, our gut is to view following back as a requirement of any social relationship. If I follow you, of course you should follow me—this way, we each build the other’s social profile.

But by following back for the primary purpose of reciprocation, we are further removing the engagement element from the social equation. We are increasing the number of posts that will enter our feeds, and might in fact be doing so with material that we have little to no interest in actually reading. This oversaturation of shared content further eliminates our ability to identify and engage the content that truly matters to us and therefore minimizes the value supposedly inherent to all digital relationships.

Think about the implications of someone who has 45,000 followers but also follows 43,000 people. The size of his network is impressive, but how clearly is his message resonating with those people, who might also be following thousands in an effort to boost their own counts?

And think about the 43,000 people he follows; is it remotely possible that he is able to engage with a remotely substantial proportion of their posts on a daily basis? What value—other than encouraging others to reciprocate the follows—could he possibly be getting out of following that many people?

Following, ideally, should be predicated on a legitimate desire to engage with a certain user and his content. That desire will not always be reciprocated, but why should reciprocation have any bearing on a person’s decision to engage? If a well-known customer loyalty analyst chooses not to follow me back, does that make him any less of an expert? Does it make his content any less valuable? Does it make his Twitter feed less relevant for my business?

And to create that ideal, Twitter users need to think about how the content they share is resonating with users. Thanks to the scoreboard premise, we are inclined to assume that someone with 400 followers is "worse" at social media than someone with 4,000, but if that person’s 400 followers all followed his account because they wanted to engage with his content, he could possess an infinitely more valuable network than someone who created his vast following through reciprocal relationships with 4000 others.

Digital strategy experts are quick to mock the worthlessness in "buying" Twitter followers. In doing so, they fail to realize that a commitment to following back is effectively the same thing. In both cases, Tweeters are incentivizing follows with something other than valuable content and thus dampening the link between who they are and why that matters to the social network.

Social as a progressive, not regressive marketing opportunity

When it comes to social media marketing, reach is a crucial selling point. Accessing millions of people without spending a dime to do so was a previously inconceivable opportunity, and it is one all brands and individuals must take seriously when developing digital strategies.

But it is not the only selling point.

Social’s greater opportunity comes from its ability to facilitate valuable engagement between entities and their target audiences. It lets brands understand who their customers are and what their customers want and then craft an engagement strategy around those identities. That is the channel’s greater point of differentiation—the opportunity that could not be easily replicated in traditional media.

With this opportunity to be the brand our customers want and deliver the value our customers need, why waste that opportunity by aggregating content without any uniquely-relevant flair? Why not instead use the platform to demonstrate why our target audience cannot do better than to invest in a relationship with us?