| | By Mick James
Do you network? Of
course you do.
Consultants, we are told
(by consultants) are
furious networkers,
never missing an
opportunity to pump
hands or drop a business
card. Networks are the
holy grail, the font
from which all business
and career opportunities
flow.
But what about
so-called “social
networking” sites, the
web 2.0 stuff? Is this
new and exciting
phenomenon going to take
networking to the next
level? Consultancy
firms seem to be
embracing it: PA has
opened a virtual office
in Second Life, and
other firms have
attended virtual careers
fairs. Headhunters are
very keen on LinkedIn,
and some firms are even
encouraging involvement
in the more
controversial Facebook.
In my view, new
technology can work in
two ways for a person:
it can make you better
at something you were
already good at, or it
can make you good at
something you were
previously rubbish at.
The latter, for me has
always been the elusive
promise of new
technology: to be able
to automate elusive
skills like time
management and tidiness
to become a sort of
virtual Six Million
Dollar man, with my
natural intellectual
gifts rounded out by a
range of intellectual | |
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| | prostheses.
It’s a promise that’s
largely deferred, at
least on an individual
basis. Better organised
people still run rings
round me, and I suspect
they always will,
because they’ve got the
technology. Everybody
brings a box to stand on
at the meeting.
With social
networking software it
should at least
theoretically be
different, because the
importance is the number
of people in the
meeting, not whether
they’re standing on
boxes.
Claims about the
power of
computer-enabled
connectivity go back
before even Web 1.0. I
remember ancient Apple
ads claiming that buying
a few computers would
suddenly turn “people
you’d forgotten worked
for you” into productive
team members.
I don’t blame
staff-hungry firms for
heading off for
cyberspace, You have to
look everywhere these
days, and if staff have
“gone” to a virtual
world, you need to go
after them. Interesting
little quirks are
beginning to emerge: one
site apparently
encourages “career
moles” to place
candidates – essentially
strangers – in their own
firms and claim the
recruitment bonus. Other
sites encourage the
reverse, offering cash
for colleagues you
recommend. Personally, | |
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| | I can’t see firms being
too happy for long with
their staff running
little sideline
businesses as
headhunters and
recruiters.
What is being lost
here is any element of
reality underpinning the
networking process. Now
when I say things like
this I line myself up
for a lot of abuse from
proponents of the
virtual. What is a CV,
but a paper “avatar”.
What’s “real” about a
banknote, or a telephone
call?
What I mean is, that
when I look at the
networks I belong to,
they are normally forged
by some defining event
or experience. Working
for a really rubbish
company seems to be the
strongest form of
attraction, but almost
anything will do.
Whenever he saw me
soldering two bits of
wire together, my dad
would always remind me:
“you need to get good
mechanical joint before
you’ll get a good
electrical joint”.
One of the eerie
experiences on something
like Facebook is looking
through a lot of people
with the same name for
the one you actually
know. What’s unnerving
about it is often how
similar all of them are,
in hobbies, outlook,
even sometimes
appearance. Any of them
could have been your
friend, but only the one
you actually went
through something with
in real life is.
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That real world
experience is the
“Wizard of Oz” moment
when you get to see the
little man behind the
curtain. There’s a
venerable internet
tradition rooted in
fantasy gaming, of
creating an avatar that
represents your
aspiration about
yourself rather than
reflecting the reality.
One might counter that
such an avatar might be
closer to your “true”
self, and prevent people
from judging you on
things you can’t change,
such as physical
appearance, age or
gender. But there are
dark sides to this:
already one reads grim
tales of lust and murder
in which teenage love
triangles turn out to be
entirely composed of
middle-aged people.
Recruiters complain that
many of the profiles
they encounter on
LinkedIn are largely
fantasy, “head of” being
the most overused
phrase.
Pendulums need to
swing all the way before
they come back. There’s
probably already a
consulting assignment
being carried out
entirely on Second Life.
I’m sure it won’t be
long before some scandal
breaks: some client will
discover that the
consulting avatars they
were paying a grand a
day for were automated
“bots” (insert own
large-consultancy-firm
joke here). Or maybe a
consultancy firm will
discover that the team | |
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| | of hardworking and
talented MBAs it just
virtually hired is in
fact a slave labour
sweatshop in China
that’s been moved across
from “gold-farming” in
Ultima Online to a more
lucrative fantasy
world.
So expect some
(serious) fun before the
back-lash starts, and
people start to drift
back to the old ways. A
long time ago someone
told me the best test he
ever had of a candidate
was getting his
secretary to “give ‘em a
sniff” and sooner or
later we’ll have to get
used to each other’s
uncomfortable physical
presences again.
What will be
interesting – and may
well emerge later – is
what will remain of
value from the current
trend. I was going to
sign off with a misty
romantic line about how
my virtual working life
makes me more drawn to
“real-life” experiences
than before. I would
have gone on at some
length about how today
I’m going to quickly
water the allotment
before heading for a
tent in the woods. Then
I remembered that half
the plants on the
allotment were ordered
off the internet, and
the campsite only takes
online bookings. Welcome
to the real(ish) world.
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