The overlooked value of your unseen audience

How much anxiety does the fear of an unliked post bring?

Plenty.

Study after study confirms the anxiety and depression it wields, especially among young people — perhaps the same young people who are or soon will be running your social media.

And for what? The measurable love of the heart button and that thumbs-up prompt?

Yet we’re told not to get caught up in the “likes” metric.  

That it’s really about engagement — you know, that other metric.

Here’s the thing: I agree with part of that logic. And I agree it can be lonely out there.

But I don’t view any post as a success of failure based on the illuminated heart or thumb.

Nor should you.

Because there are too many factors outside your control once content goes public.

Knowing this, some people will go to extreme measures to avert a low number of likes.

Perhaps you’ve been asked to like posts (even though we’re not getting caught up in that metric, right?)

Maybe you’ve be confronted with this question from friends, colleagues, or even clients:

“Why don’t you ‘like’ my content?”

My answer is: “I see your content and quite often I enjoy it. It’s just not meant for my audience.”

That’s not a slight, it is a reality of navigating a messy, algorithmic socialsphere.

Because when you “like” something, some platforms are compelled to put that liked content in front of your audience, too. And no matter how good it is, it might not be right/ideal/appropriate for your audience.

This is often an overlooked, secondary level of your content strategy — being keenly aware of everything you are putting in front of your audience.

So, back to my response about seeing content, but not reacting to it publicly.

The practice is known as lurking — and it is the bane of analytics teams because it lacks helpful, actionable data. That can push some decision-makers down the slippery slope of “if we can’t measure it, we shouldn’t do it.”

This should be the “a-ha moment” for anyone creating and sharing content.

You can safely assume there could be hundreds of lurkers seeing what you share, who perhaps don’t want to click, get hunted down, or sign up for your finely crafted marketing material — as good as it is.

This isn’t permission to inflate data, but it is permission to accept that a wider viewership exists.

That some of them are thinking about it.

That maybe a few will react to it.

And that perhaps someone will reach out because of it.

If not now, then over time as you continue to provide value.

It is the opposite of instantaneous gratification; opposite of the dopamine hit these platforms reward and we’ve come to crave.

Ask yourself this: during your last scroll through social media are you likely to remember what you liked or who provided value or insight? (it also might’ve been a like).

Proof of the unseen audience

In my other life as a painter, I share my work frequently online.

The vast majority — 80 to 90 percent — of people who have reached out and eventually purchased my work were unknown to me.

They weren’t publicly liking the work.

They didn’t comment on what the read or saw.

And they didn’t sign up to take a voluntary slide down my sales funnel.  

Instead, they were simply paying attention, patiently waiting, lurking…

Until it was time to act (and yes, marketers hate this random waiting and not knowing).

And here’s your takeaway:

We’ve all been conditioned to measure, to be metric hungry.

But conversion – the metric that really matters – comes in ways we can’t always graph or add up on a spreadsheet.

Sometimes – perhaps most of the time – our work is about showing up when it appears nobody is paying any attention.

Show up anyway.

Do the work. Provide value. Repeat.  

Enjoy the likes if/when they come. Engage those people if it makes sense.

But also feed the lurkers by playing the long and often quiet game.

Because when your sales funnel fails to tell you where out-of-the-blue customers come from…

When you’re left to assume they arrived on your doorstep without seeing your carefully curated email drip campaign or gated downloadable content, ask:

Would I prefer this interest and potential to become a right-fit customer come from…

A Google search? (assuming you’ve got a good SEO game going)

A Referral?

The individual quietly lurking but paying attention?

Referral is obvious, but quietly lurking is a close second in my book.

It is unseen, below-the-surface interest before there’s actual engagement.

It is the quiet act of someone building knowledge and respect for what you offer long before there’s an offer on the table.  

Don’t get too caught up in the likes, engagement, and things you can neatly plot as told + sold in a social media playbook.  It’s complicated. And frankly, you have better things to do than play beat the algorithm.

Which is why we can all like and learn to embrace the idea that lurkers exist.

Lurkers, when moved to action, bring a lot more end value than likes.

And that’s a metric everyone can get behind — if you have the patience.

Thoughtful leadership requires more of this overlooked habit

“I don't have time to read – I’m too busy.”

For years I’d hear that kind of a remark from a leader and assume I had no idea the kind of pressure they were under. Being none the wiser, I would give them a pass. After all, it is hard to make time for something that isn’t a priority.

Today I know better.

I get that some people don’t enjoy reading and that it feels like more work on top of the work they already must do. But keep reading (or stick with me through this post). It doesn’t have to be drudgery, and I believe it can become a priority if we focus less on the act of reading and instead look to outcomes reading presents.

Recently, James Clear shared this thought on the value of reading and it struck a chord:

"Reading is like a software update for your brain. 

Whenever you learn a new concept or idea, the "software" improves. You download new features and fix old bugs."

That should push us to think about how many “old bugs” we have that need fixing, as well as how many new ideas that could be of real benefit if we’re open and curious enough. 

Now imagine the leader of your organization working on Windows 98, using a decade-old Blackberry, and sending email from an AOL account. They’ve signaled that these tools are necessary if not important, but refused relevant updates for their tools, processes and practices to advance the business. 

Processing new information, and then applying that which is useful or helpful, is in part the art of remaining relevant — and we need our leaders to be relevant leaders who know where to guide us and our organizations. 

Looking back, I can pinpoint which leaders and mentors of mine were avid readers and curious thinkers, in part because we talked about books and new ideas. It shaped my thinking and encouraged me to dig in and dig deeper.

Conversely, I am also reminded of those whose leadership style was less about curiosity, innovation and new ideas. Instead they held fiercely to rigid views and a “this is how we (meaning you) do it” mentality.  

Still think you don't have time to read?

In the last three years I've nearly tripled the amount of books (ideas) I consume. Like you, I’m still the same busy human — running a business, raising a family, and being pulled and distracted in multiple directions. My consumption of deeper content (vs. social scanning and intermittent browsing) has grown by listening to books — in the car, while exercising or walking the dog. This is not a new idea, but I was slow to adopt it. But I’m choosing to steal back some of that lost time, reclaim bits and pieces of it, while also leaving enough margin to think and also unclutter the mind.

Last year, I completed 71 books. It wasn't a chore. Only a third of the titles were overtly about business. I track them not to “keep score” but simply to remind me of what I’ve read and what I might want to revisit. A log also reminds me if I’m active in my reading and if I’m getting derailed.

I'm continuing to gain perspective on things and people that I was previously ignorant about (software update). And no doubt I'm thinking differently and more broadly than I did just a handful of years ago. My curiosity quotient continues to rise.

Further, a diverse selection of reading material can open us up to becoming more empathetic and aware of those around us. But it requires us to humbly approach new ideas, different perspectives, and unique voices with an “I don’t know what I don’t know” attitude. Although this HBR article isn’t a recent one, it’s still relevant. And it’s comforting to know we’re in good company as we embrace this critical leadership habit.

We owe this kind of upgraded thinking and curiosity to our clients and colleagues, family and friends. We also owe it to ourselves. And it’s as easy as opening a book or pushing play on an audio version.  

So to all busy leaders and those who aspire to lead others: read to learn, read for enjoyment, but also read to lead. There’s no doubt that you, and those around you, will see the benefits of being not just well read, but more engaged and curious in contrast to that time when you didn’t have time to read.  

The hardest talent to recognize is your own

I cannot take credit for the headline. I scribbled it down in my notebook last week while sitting in the audience listening to a talk from Jon Acuff at STORY. The conference explored being in liminal space – that messy middle between no longer and not yet, or what was and what’s next.

We’ve all been there. Remember those teenage years? Liminal space. So is college. Not to mention getting downsized, relocating, and being stuck in a job that you know is the slow track to nowhere in particular. Many of us are there right now.

While there may be many reasons for being between the no longer and not yet, I’m also reminded of that trite but true saying – change is hard.

For that reason, many of us go to great lengths to avoid change and turn that temporary liminal space into our own permanent parking lot. But that prolonged state of stunted sameness is bound to get disrupted at some point — either against our will or perhaps by some divine intervention (sometimes it’s both).

I gave a talk a couple of years ago where i put a simple math equation up on the screen. It had a series of sixteen numbers on it that looked just like this:

1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1

It represented my professional career. I had been in a habit (much like you, I presume) of telling others I had 16 years of experience up until that point. But what I knew to be true was that I had 16 years of the same set of experiences, over and over, January to December, then repeat. I wanted, even expected, capital E experiences while settling for the comfort and complacency of the lowercase version. It was an excruciatingly long period of the not yet.   

Change – even the obvious, you-know-you’ve-got-to-change kind of change – is hard.

Change is hard is one boulder of a statement that casts a dark shadow on the questions the rumble behind it that still cry out for answers: What might I accomplish by taking a risk? What do I have to offer the world through my talents and gifts? What do I really have to lose?

Later in his talk Jon dropped this, which I think gets to the real issue many of us face:

“We’re not afraid of change.

We’re afraid of looking foolish.”

This kind of bold truth, when spoken, is something we cannot unhear. It shines a harsh light into the dark corners of our fragile selves. I started thinking of everything I’ve ever chickened out of because I was afraid… of looking foolish.

Now that you’ve read it – and can’t unsee or unthink it – the challenge is to relentlessly probe your motivations and insecurities to discern if you are more concerned with how you appear in the eyes of others, or how you can impact the lives of others.

When we are willing to believe in our talent, when we muster the fortitude to lead (or confidently walk alongside someone else) with a bold idea or vision or uncommon compassion, when we lean into the hard things together, we learn more about who we are and what we are capable of. We learn about resilience and vulnerability; trust and tenacity.

And we might just discover that those seemingly foolish ideas we've intuitively shied away from are the very things that can spark the change we desire.

Take a cue from Brené Brown, if necessary, and write yourself permission slips to do the bold things you need to do. Give yourself permission to look foolish (should it turn out that way) – if just briefly.

But know that others will likely see that self-labeled foolishness as having courage and the guts to do what many on the sidelines only dream of doing. And soon they too will have to come to grips with not being able to unhear your motivation and unsee your actions.  

We are told and reminded that it is the brilliant thinkers and the talented doers who change the word. And, so, what are you waiting for?

Jon presented this idea to his audience. Steal it, customize it, print it out, put it on a sticky note at your desk:

The world would be more awesome if ____________________.

or

My work would be more awesome if ___________________________.

My relationships would be more awesome if ___________________________.

What is your “if” that’s hanging out there waiting for you to take action?

Think about it and fill it in.

Then go do it.

Invite others along.

Small ideas that aren't fed and watered stay small.

Small ideas, when shared and nurtured, become bigger ideas – much bigger than any of us imagined.

And that hardly seems foolish.

READING OLD NOTES: gaining insight through reflection

I keep a stack of moleskine notebooks and serviceable knock-offs on a bookshelf in my writing studio. They are filled with meeting notes, doodles, writing prompts, sketches, and lists of peculiar word pairings that I imagine using in future pieces. There’s also some wise advice I’ve picked up and scribbled into the margins during this work-and-life journey.

I admit that once these notebooks are filled, I rarely pick them up or thumb through them again.

That is until recently.

I had been feeling anxious about a writing assignment and a personal project. I was struggling to start, to finish, to find the right words. They weren’t coming. More than writer’s block, it was a questioning of my abilities to perform my core work.

So I began thumbing through old words. Past projects. Thing that at one time seemed daunting. Things that felt important to commit to paper.

I wasn’t looking for anything particular. I was simply revisiting and reflecting on past experiences and old ideas.

And it made me stop and think: why is it that we scan old photo albums (or file folders) with a sense of wonder and excitement? Why does Facebook send us anniversary milestones of friendships? Why do we painstakingly curate playlists in Spotify from the 80s or 90s when there’s so much new music across any genre for us to enjoy? Why do we show up and honor, in our own special way, those whom we’ve lost?

Because we need to be reminded.

Reminded of what’s important and what matters;

what we’re striving for and what keeps us in the game;

what gives us life and purpose, hope and joy.

Looking for the right words and answers continues to be an imperfect and ongoing search. If not now, then assuredly later. And you, I’m assuming, will have your own specific search that demands resolving – from the mundane to the monumental challenges.  

As I thumbed through some old notes, I found some words of advice and inspiration, and a few that served as a kick in the pants to keep going, to pick ourselves up, to get better, and to never stop.

In some cases it was as if I was reading these points for the first time. For others, I had a different perspective thanks to the experiences I’ve has since I first scrawled the words.

Maybe these words – forgotten and tucked away in a notebook on a shelf, from writers, creators and, more importantly, doers – are exactly what I need to reflect on when the load feels heavy. And maybe you, too. Maybe these words needed some light thrown back on them to push us forward. Perhaps new eyes on these once-written, spoken and acted-upon words can breathe new life into whatever it is we need to do but haven’t.

I hope they are helpful, encouraging, or a kick in the pants. If they are, then write them down. Put them in a notebook. Add to them. And consider revisiting them from time to time.

Traveler, there is no road;

you make your own path as you walk.

As you walk, you make your own road,

and when you look back you see the path

you will never travel again.

– Antonio Machado // poet

“How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”

– Annie Dillard // writer

“When we are merely competent, the value of our work is diminished until it can eventually be outsourced to the lowest bidder – making us a dispensable commodity.” (Don’t be merely competent. Be unmistakable.)

– Srinivas Rao // business author, podcaster

CRITICIZING IS EASIER THAN CREATING.

(shut up and get to work.)

“The trouble with comparing yourself to others is that there are too many others. Using all others as your control group, all your worst fears and your fondest hopes are at once true. You are good; you are bad; you are abnormal; you are just like everyone else.”

– Sarah Manguso // poet

“Emotion before evidence. Otherwise data will kill a good story on contact.”

– Todd Henry // writer, creativity consultant

“Keep being curious. Keep being a student.

As soon as you stop doing that, as soon as you stop playing,

you stop creating great things.”

 – Matthew Luhn // writer, Pixar Animation Studios

At the end of my suffering, there was a door.

– Louise Glück // poet

“If you listen to everyone, you will lose yourself.

You were hired for your expertise. Deliver that.”

– Ruth Carter // costume designer for Black Panther

But what if I’m not a real writer/artist/entrepreneur/etc.? Just sit down and do it.

What if my idea isn’t any good? Just try. Do it anyway.

What if nobody sees it? It’s not about who sees it, it’s about why you did it.

What if I’m stuck? When you’re at an edge, push through it.

What if this was a gigantic waste of time? Trust that it won’t be.

 – Allison Fallon // writer, coach, adapted from perspectives on writing

DARE. MIGHTY. THINGS.

Then do the work to achieve those things.

Four missteps organizations make with storytelling

If you asked a variety of people in different roles across your organization – what’s our company story? –what kind of reaction would you get? Would your colleagues accurately tell the company story? Chances are you might hear them say something like: “that’s not part of my role” or “marketing is in charge of that” or “I don’t really know.”

It begs this important question about storytelling – whose job is it anyway?

The marketing department? C-suite? Management-level employees? Those working the front lines with stakeholders? Sales teams? People behind the scenes? Those with the longest history within the organization?

The short answer is – yes. Yes to all of them. Storytelling is everyone’s responsibility.

However, it’s not surprising to see most organizations delegate the role of storytelling to the marketing department.

This is misguided thinking and where many organizations miss the point of that all-too-trendy term – storytelling. Here are four missteps that organizations commonly make with storytelling.

1.     Confusing story management with storytelling

Someone or some assigned team needs to take the lead in unearthing and positioning the organization’s most important stories. It should be their task to write them down for the sake of sharing in-house with employees and externally/online for stakeholders and customers in a clear and consistent way. The marketing function is a logical choice for establishing these pieces and developing the repository where the organization’s history, key messages and must-share stories can be found.

But let’s be clear – this is simply the act of story management.

What we’re talking about is storytelling – the verbal articulation of something deemed important – and that should be everyone’s business.

2.     Failing to connect the story with actual storytellers

Most of us don’t like the idea of being marketed to or sold something, at least not until we are ready to engage on our own terms. That fact alone makes every other function outside of the marketing department, and the vast majority of employees in an organization, critical storytellers. When people within an organization are empowered to tell stories about the business and their business – what we do, why we do it (purpose), who we seek to serve, why it matters, how we’re different, and why you should care – it is no longer marketing or sales. It is the sharing of ideas and of a larger ideal. It is storytelling.  And this becomes immensely valuable in cultivating a desirable work culture, attracting and retaining new hires, and stirring the curiosity among people who become clients, customers and advocates.

3.     Overlooking the importance of empathy and delivery

Consider this excerpt regarding the nuance of story from the English novelist E.M. Forster:

“If I say to you the king died, and then the queen died, that is a sequence of events.

But if I said the king died, and then the queen died of grief, that’s a story. That’s human. That calls for empathy on the part of the teller of the story and on the part of the reader or listener of the story.”

Read this again:  “Empathy on the part of the teller of the story...”

That is significant.

If we rely on marketing for our stories but don’t have an intimate knowledge of those stories ourselves and how to tell them – with empathy – our attempt at telling stories becomes little more than a list of facts, talking points, or a sequence of events. Worse yet, if we rely solely on marketing to be the mouthpiece of our stories we miss untold opportunities to engage people on the importance of our purpose and our work.   

And there’s this:  “...and on the part of the reader or listener.”

This is an important reminder that our audiences will engage and process our stories differently.

Every time I deliver a messaging document to a client for the first time, I ask them if they will humor me as I read it aloud. They are perfectly capable of reading it on their own, but I know that people interpret what they hear differently from what they read. Inflection is added in the right places for needed effect, and my voice becomes the audible highlighter of words and ideas that they otherwise might skim over.

We need the marketing team’s help to craft stories and position them for a compelling read in all formats – from the tweet that piques interest, to the website copy, to tangible printed material that compels a stakeholder to slow down and sit with our words.

But we also need the c-suite to lead by example – to know and convey stories with the passion we should expect from leaders, so that managers and employees (as listeners) can make a personal connection and become storytellers themselves by following their lead.

Marketing has its place.

Content is valuable and can be readily accessible.

But there is no replacing the sound and impact of a point well-made coming from a leader. 

4.     Ignoring the history of a story and failing to pull from it

David McCullough, the Pulitzer Prize-winning American author and well-known historian, said this about the importance of history and story in a 2004 commencement speech at Ohio University titled The Bulwark of Freedom:

“We have to know who we are if we are to know where we are headed. This is essential. We have to value what our forbears did for us or we are not going to care about it very seriously, and it can slip away.”

While McCullough refers to the story of one’s country and the importance of knowing history as it informs the future of a nation, the same can be said for nearly any organization or institution. Past and present stories provide the factual and credible narrative needed to set us apart from others. It is what we must lean into, it is our compass as we seek to chart new and exciting futures. 

Is your organization recording the stories that matter by writing them down, reciting them and sharing them regularly?

Do you and the people in your organization know its rich history, its defined purpose and how it intends to make a difference?

This isn’t arbitrary work. Your organization’s reason for being is rooted in story.

If you don’t know the story, you can’t tell it.

And if it’s not seen as something to take seriously, then there’s truly a lot at risk of slipping away.