Tag Archives: Twitter

PRIVACY? THAT’S SO 20th CENTURY!

Q: I want to start by asking you about your relationship with your mother. I believe you had a somewhat troubled childhood and that there was tension between …

A: Hang on! This is a bit personal, isn’t it? What are we doing here?

Q: Those were Robert Downey Jr’s very words just before he walked out on Channel 4’s interviewer Krishnan Guru-Murthy the other day (interview is above).

A: Oh, I’m with you now: Downey thought he was just appearing to promote his new movie  Avengers: Age of Ultron (below) and he got upset when Guru-Murthy pressed him on more personal issues, including his past use of drugs and alcohol. In fact, he got so upset, he just pulled a face, said “goodbye,” yanked off his microphone and walked out, mumbling, “it was getting a bit Diane Sawyer” — a reference to the American interviewer who tends to probe into private lives.

Q: So has Downey any right to restrict his interview to promoting his new film and refusing to talk about his private life?

A: In my opinion, anyone who is either an A-list celebrity — as Downey clearly is — or has aspirations to becoming a celeb of some distinction has to come to terms early on with the fact that they have no private life that they can keep offlimits: everything in their past and present is fair game, not just for the traditional media, but for everyone. Social media, twitter in particular, has pretty much made privacy redundant. But even before twitter started (it launched in 2006), celebrities had entered into a new kind of arrangement in which they agreed to cough up any details of their lives the media wanted to know about. And, of course, the media are our proxy: they probe because we consumers want them to probe.

Q: When did all this start then? Because I can’t imagine the Hollywood stars of the 1950s or even 1960s surrendered their right to a private life. In fact, my reading of the old stars is that the film industry kept a very tight control over the information they released to the media. What changed?

A: After the rise of Madonna in the 1980s, anyone who aspired to be famous had to stay mindful of the sacrifice she made. She may not have slaughtered an animal or child as an offering to god, but she gave up something that had been regarded as important to previous entertainers: her privacy. Had social media been around, she would have had no choice. But in the days when traditional media were dominant, she opted to start a process that would eventually turn privacy inside out. Eventually, fans, instead of relying on what the media provided, asserted themselves. But they needed assistance. Consumers have no need to depend on traditional media for information on celebrities’ lives now: they can access it for themselves; and, if they can’t do that, they will make it up. Either way, it satisfies the voyeuristic impulse.

Q: Voyeuristic impulse? You mean we take pleasure from watching other people? Are you saying that we are all voyeurs nowadays?

A: Actually voyeurism doesn’t quite catch it: it sounds too one-directional, as if one group is peeping at another through a keyhole; celebrities supply raw material to eager followers. Madonna certainly delivered a product in the 1980s, but she was forced to change. The relationship between celebrities and fans became progressively more fluid, involving a collaboration and exchange of ideas between celeb and audience (reaching an unedifying point in 2012 when Justin Bieber’s fans elected via twitter to name his penis “Jerry”). It’s difficult to imagine unapproachable, unreachable, untouchable stars, such as Elizabeth Taylor, Marilyn Monroe and their contemporaries in the 1950s and 1960s, tweeting. But, if they were around in times of 360 degrees connectivity, they would be obliged to do exactly that (though probably not sharing nomenclature of genitalia).

Q: I guess twitter and Instagram have changed the way we understand privacy completely then.

A: Yes, it’s a kind of two-way situation: we follow others’ lives, but we don’t mind sharing our own. The kind of material people put on the two sites you mention would have made people shrink in embarrassment twenty years ago. But think about how relaxed everyone is about sharing what used to be called private information today. The Jerry Springer Show is one of the most important shows in television history: it really captured the zeitgeist when it debuted in 1991. Audiences could hardly believe they were watching and listening to people air their dirty linen in public, and, of course, the public was in millions. It was, in many ways, an incredible   show and paved the way for so many others, including our own Jeremy Kyle Show. We’ve become so used to eavesdropping on other people’s lives that we feel no guilt. We even discuss others’ behaviour in a way that turns us into judges. I mean that quite literally, we make moral evaluations about how other people live. That’s what I mean by the voyeuristic impulse.

Q: So I come back to my initial question. Downey: right or wrong?

A: Ah, I see you want me to make my own moral evaluation on him. Well, I think he has become such an interesting guy because of his checkered background. It looked for a while as if he would be cast out into the wilderness. In the 1990s, he was in and out of rehab and jail for drugs issues. At earlier periods in the twentieth century, this would have been ruinous for an actor, but when Downey got into trouble, audiences were not simply interested on what they saw on the screen, so his various travails made him a fascinating character. He got a part on the tv show Ally McBeal and was so good that he got big movie parts. Presumably, he’s aware that his troubled background has in a perverse way contributed to his success, but just wants to put it all behind him now. It’s understandable, though it suggests he may not quite understand that every time he’s giving an interview audiences are not just interested in his roles in Iron Man or Avengers: they’re actually more interested in Robert Downey Jr.

Twitter is selling YOU

Twitter

You have a Twitter account, right? Silly question: of course you have. You and about 200 million others, at very least. The microblogging phenomenon has only been around since 2006, but, in a sense, it seems to compare with television and the internet as media innovations that changed the way we spend our waking hours. A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about how conceptions of privacy had changed so drastically in recent years and how, in many ways, we no longer understand our private lives in the same way as previous generations. Twitter has played no small part in this: with Facebook, it has turned private lives inside out – encouraging us to reveal details of our lives that other people find either fascinating or slightly less than fascinating, but never, it seems, dull. We devour information about what other people are doing or thinking or intending to do. What people are doing at any given moment may not seem very important, but we value this kind of information. Twitter has enriched millions of lives. Can it enrich them even more – this time with hard cash?

Twitter has filed paperwork for what the world of finance calls an initial public offering (IPO), which means it will invite anybody with enough money to buy a chunk of the company. Appropriately, it announced the news in a tweet. This means that you or I or anyone else can become a part owner of a company that is already part of our lives and engages all of us for at least a portion of our day. Last year, Facebook floated on the stock exchange. Its founder Mark Zuckerberg had put this off, probably fearing that he would have to surrender his hoodie credentials and become a corporate head, answerable to his shareholders. Zuckerberg seemed concerned that people will stop thinking about Facebook as a cultural service provider and more as a profit-driven business. The initial price per Facebook share was $38 (£24); it is now about $44. A 15.7% increase in 18 months is not bad, despite a rocky start. Encouraged by this, Twitter is following its networking cousin into the market.

Twitter seems to be everywhere, all of the time: people are always tweeting, or reading tweets, or retweeting. But there are actually three times as many Facebook users as tweeters. Twitter’s revenue is also less than Facebook’s in 2011, its final year as a private company.  So there are bound to be suspicions when it arrives on the market. All the same, the sheer prominence of Twitter in contemporary culture will persuade investors that this is a company with a future. Won’t it?

Twitter has been revolutionary. But the question investors will ask themselves is: will it be revolutionary like television, or revolutionary like ITV, the first commercial company in Britain? Since the 1950s, tv has grown into arguably the most influential innovation of the twentieth century (I’ll accept a counterargument from advocates of the internal combustion engine). It’s adapted to changing environments and, in the process, changed us in myriad ways. ITV launched in 1955. BBC was the national public broadcaster and, as such, was funded by licence payers, not advertising. ITV’s remit was more populist and it operated as a commercial organization, charging for advertising spots between its programmes. It shared the market with BBC until 1964 when BBC2 came into being. ITV’s market share was shaved a little in 1982 when Channel 4 arrived, but in the late 1980s and 1990s, it was thrust into an open market with any number of digital and satellite channels all competing for advertisers. And it’s struggled ever since. So what is Twitter? A unique medium like television, or a service that has got the market to itself, but only for the moment?

Will we all be tweeting in five years? Probably. But in ten? And beyond? Twitter may be, like television, a medium that morphs with cultural changes, or it may be just one service provider that has caught the zeitgeist – and zeitgeists change. Twitter has no doubt already started planning for this possibility. For example, it has the video-sharing app Vine, and Twitter music, the music discovery service. It will probably launch new services. But the product Twitter will be putting up for sale is actually you. OK, you see yourselves as users, but, as far as advertisers are concerned you are potential customers. 200 million customers is an attractive market for advertisers. Unlike tv stations, Twitter has no portfolio of programmes, such as Corrie, The X Factor or Downton Abbey (all ITV, of course): it just has people who like tweeting and are liable to be influenced by ads.

At the moment, none of us minds the occasional pop-up; after all, it’s a free service. Twitter currently reckons it pulls in about 380 million quid a year from advertising. But, once on the stock market, Twitter will be under pressure from shareholders to pull in as much revenue from advertisers as it can and this could affect the experience that tweeters currently find so engaging. Would Twitter dare risk alienating users with too many ads? This is essentially the question potential investors will be asking themselves.