Fuzzy Content

Eric’s post yet again inspires me. This time it’s about success. Measuring success is a tricky and thankless labor, even more so for Web sites. As a result, “measure of success” usually ends up being some meaningless metric that is specifically designed to make the guy (or gal) with the wallet feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Don’t take me wrong, though — I love the guy/gal with the wallet. I just wish they didn’t fall so easily for checkbox charts and up-trendy graphs.

A recent post on 37signals (love those guys) makes the point that marketing should be an inherent part of everyday life. For an idea to come to fruition and be successful, marketing must be existent every step of the way.

The article raised a question for me that applies to anyone responsible for moving a product forward. Whatever that product is - an education, a software application, a bicycle, eliminating world hunger - who determines its success? The answer is certainly not you. I know…you work hard, you have spent every hour invested in making a bigger, better, stronger something. And it’s not that you aren’t part of making something successful, but it is not you. It’s your customer (whoever that may be).

Here is where it gets tricky. Are you seeing the largest Freshman class in school history? Still not successful. Not until you graduate the largest class in school history. Not until you have the strongest alumni support you have ever imagined in school history. That is when you have success.

Success in marketing comes when your customers are happy. Less starving children in Africa? You are successful. Related to product development, it’s not if you sell more widgets than last year. It is how many more customers you have that call and thank you. Or use your product in a way you didn’t see before. Your success lies in their success.

With that in mind, what does this have to do with your Web site? The success of your site lies in answering one question: Are your readers happy?

HigherEdBlogCon is nearly here.

The Admissions, Alumni Relations, and Communications & Marketing segment begins on Monday. Dimitri and I are presenting/Skyping/Raindancing the Teeming Web from our secret, remote locations around the world (read: Alabama and Ohio).

Our presentation spans more than a couple states. We’ll run through a number of social networking sites, pontificate on the significance of each and provide a glimpse of the future as we run through a few Photoshop mockups of what an organization could do with the Web 2.0.

Eric’s previous post got me thinking. While journey/destination analogy seems logical as applied to context and content, my personal experience with social sites tells me that often the context (or the journey) is more interesting and exciting than the content itself. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell which one comes first.

Back in high school, me and my friends used to have this spot where we hung out, a little old gazebo on the back of the school year (not even our school!). The structure was old, rusty, and leaning slightly to one side, so it wasn’t the looks. The wood on the benches was burnt by vandals who came long before us, so it wasn’t the comfy seating. But that was our spot. Most of our deviant adventures originated from that spot. All of our evenings began there.

That gazebo wasn’t significant as content. It was the context of us gathering there that made it special. Similarly, I doubt readers deem myspace.com content worthy of being a destination. It’s the people you hook up with, the friends that junk up your page with their silly testimonials — the content has become secondary, the lowly servant of the overwhelming web of context.

The introduction of reader-created content and social networking messes with the pristine definitions of journey and destination. It becomes harder and harder to distinguish what’s more important or what’s primary: content or context. But then again, just like with the chicken and the egg dilemma, who cares?

As the concept of context takes hold, we need to take a break to better understand what true content and context are. Let’s redefine these using the 1983 classic National Lampoon’s Vacation.

If you haven’t seen the movie, shame on you. If you have, you remember that the overall premise is that Clark Griswald takes his entire family from Chicago to Los Angeles (in the family truckster) to visit WallyWorld (a make believe Disney World). On the way across country, he and his family get into all kinds of shinanegans, going through all sorts of emotions.

Finally, they make it to WallyWorld to find the park closed for renovation. So they kidnap a security guard and decide to enjoy the park anyway. I’ll save the ending for those who have not seen the movie yet.

So what does that have to do with defining content and context? Everything.

Let’s start with content. Any time somebody comes to your Web site (let’s call them a visitor), they want to accomplish something. Whether that be to find out where to park, schedule a visit to campus, or simply find a phone number. They want something. This is WallyWorld. This is the destination. Once they have found the page with the information, they become readers, soaking up as much as you will give them.

Next, context. To find the information they so desparately need, the visitor navigates through the site (we’ll call them scanners). Either they will go to the search box, navigate through the site, or give up (or a combination of those steps). And once they have found that information, they want to see what’s next. This is the trip from Chicago to Los Angeles.

Clark could have flown his family out to Los Angeles, saving days, frustration, and expense. He chose to give his family a more enhanced experience. The same is true for the site. Context is the journey, content is the destination. Quoting Clark, “Perhaps you don’t want to see the second largest ball of twine on the face of the earth, which is only four short hours away?”

On your Web site, you must remember to reward visitors for taking the journey. Always push them to action once they find their destination, and along the way, remember to provide relevant links at each step of the way.

For example, along the way to that “parking” page on the site, tease visitors with a virtual tour or even campus maps. Once they find the parking information, push them to complete a “Visit Campus” form or register for a parking pass. Something relevant.

All in all, you must remember that site visitors need to be pushed. Give them the next steps (context) after they meet their goals (content).

One last Clarkism: “This is no longer a vacation. It’s a quest. It’s a quest for fun. I’m gonna have fun and you’re gonna have fun. We’re all gonna have so much fun we’ll need plastic surgery to remove our smiles. I gotta be crazy! I’m on a pilgrimage to see a moose. Praise Marty Moose!”

I just blinked the venerable suck.com. I ran across it in an unrelated Google search and couldn’t stop myself from clicking into it and reveling in what was the Web.

The Google link dropped me on a Hit & Run (since adopted by reason magazine) from 2000. I’d stopped reading Suck by then so I quickly jumped into the barrel and browsed the archives. Like getting reacquainted with an old friend, I realized what I liked about the site. And eventually what I didn’t like.

You Knew it was Coming

Suck.com sucked readers into the minds of its authors by linking contextually and strategically. Links were not used to provide more information, but to let you in on the joke in the authors head. Links were the point. The rest was, well, Filler.

So beautiful. So perfect. So sad to know it is gone. “Like tears in the rain.” We didn’t even realized what we’d lost.

Of coarse Suck.com drove me away eventually. The two friends grew apart. One turned to newspapers and hard content, the other to VC’s.

But right now I have that warm fuzzy feeling that comes with memories of old friends. Maybe I’ll drive by Suck’s house and see if they still live there. Maybe there’s still something to rekindle this friendship.

If not, at least I have Nick, Tim, Jacob and Julian. Their links still have layers.

Bob and I will be speaking at HigherEdBlogCon, which is an online conference thingamajigy. For four weeks, we’ll be reading, watching, and interacting through comments. That means no fancy hotels or evening dining for you, Dimitri! Anyhow.

I was just thinking: what stops few motivated individuals from organizing an online conference? Maybe the structure isn’t as important as (wait for it…) context. What if 10-15 bloggers got together and aggregated themselves for some limited period of time, loosely tying their online blabbering to a topic. What if they invited some glorified blog-a-donna to do a “keynote” post? What stops this band of brothers from promoting this event just by linking and talking/commenting about it wherever/whenever an opportunity comes along?

Think BarCamp with no physical location, with spontaneous MashPits as they come necessary, online discussions through follow-up posts, comments, technorati space, and wicked wiki brainstorms.

Why not? Why aren’t we doing this?