Discontent: the great content debate.

If we’re anywhere in the same less-than-blissful pandemic pod, you’ve been seeing a big uptick in your LinkedIn connection requests of late. Call it the “social two-step” or, maybe better, the “LI lure,” but the general grift includes an initial invitation followed by a humble and heartwarming solicitation to begin a highly profitable “partnership.”

Partnership, of course, meaning “you bring the clients and the cash; we’re good with the profits.”

The Reductionist finds this practice almost as annoying as people who refer to themselves in the third person. In part, because volume of these pings have been rising week-over-week since the start of the present frivolity. But also, because this kind of badly-researched-and-worsely-executed play for traction and action is just a small piece of a much greater marketing sin.

I’m talking about the marketing world’s more-is-merrier addiction to “content.”  And the way that some of the biggest names in adland persist in pushing quantity over creative quality with all the enthusiasm of the Sackler family pitching a new flavor of opioids.

Sadly, a whole passel of brands have bought into the premise hook, line, and stinker. You see it everywhere: companies pumping out endless social ephemera, cheap “explainer” videos, tactical me-too TikTok snark; all while they check-off just about every crowded box on the latest “what happens in an internet minute” infographic (www.visualcapitalist.com/every-minute-internet-2020/).

Well, here’s a news flash: it doesn’t matter whether the creative comes in the form of your basic block-and-tackle cold email or a multi-million brand video, the audience deserves more than that. 

First, we owe them respect that comes with making an effort to understand something about them. Case in point: every time I get a sales pitch that starts, “does Brainchild build websites for their clients?” I think, “no, we’re still partying like it was 1989,” with the interwebs just a distant gleam in Vint Cerf’s eyes.

Second, we’re on the hook to offer them something of value in exchange for their precious time and attention. Value, defined as what they will find useful, enlightening, or entertaining. And, no, telling me I can make scads of money by reselling someone’s white glove digital services, doesn’t qualify.

Third, we’re obligated to make the contact interesting. That’s not just key to the above-mentioned value, it’s also table stakes for any kind of persuasion that has a prayer of being noticed, much less acted on.

None of these things are necessarily complex; in truth, there are fairly simply ways and means to approach them that are pragmatically viable in the real world of tight budgets, competitive markets, and aspirational expectations.

But ALL of them, without exception, require taking the time to research, to explore, and to craft.  Something not possible when the clock is ticking off the internet seconds, the demand to “post, post, post” is relentless, and the standards for quality and impact are as depressed as I get, clicking off the “ignore” box on the latest random LinkedIn invitation.