'Just be human' is the popular mantra of social media. Wherever we turn, there's another reminder the job at hand is to humanize brands, make them love their community and thus allow the community to love them back.  The thought being, the more love a brand shows, the more love the brand will receive. Makes sense. There is, however, an art to delivering that love, where interactions with the community seem real, honest and valuable. 

Being human is a worthy goal, but in doing so, sometimes brands (and people) overdo it to the point of seeming...well...less than human.  

In some circles, it seems being human relies heavily on over-excessive flattery and sycophant behavior likely stemming from some deeply traumatic childhood event. And yes, I'm guilty of this, too (I blame it on that aggressive girl in sixth grade who stole my coveted unicorn sticker collection). Despite some reports, an abundance of niceties and enthusiasm will not win you fans, or stickers. It will rather make you suspect. From ingratiating flattery to over-excessive #FFs, boisterous complimenting will earn you a reputation, for certain, but probably not the one you imagined, or planned. 

Now, there are people (and brands) that fall into the genuinely nice category, but they are genetically/strategically designed as such.  It's not a put on.  It's not taken from a how-to guide on a blog written by some social media expert. It's real. Innate.  Believable.  Just like people, brands are culturally created.  That cultural influence shapes their behavior, persona, outward expression and defines the expectation from their loyal followers.

Brands are real.  Yes, there is some phantasmagoric element about them that exists in the ephemeral, where our imaginations create emotional connections that project onto our lives, but at the end of the day, brands are created by and run by people. Real people. Brand mysticism aside, brands are real. Brands are human. But being human does not mean flattery to win friends. Being human means being true to who you are, what you represent, where you came from and where you are going.

It's no wonder social media is evolving platforms, such as Facebook Groups and Path, that focus on limiting our networks and mapping them based on who we love most, who we are intimately, personally committed to.  Those people, those devoted consumers deserve truth and openness, they deserve unfettered love.

The new mantra: Just be real.

And, of course, here's the how-to-be real guide:

1. Focus on those closest to you.  Whether selling ice cream or medical devices, the direction's the same, know who your closest customers are.  It's not about driving numbers of followers and fans from all corners of the social spectrum.  It's about embracing the right people and holding them tight, caring for them and delighting them with surprises, just as you would a good friend.
2. Remember the nuances. Real relationships have a natural ebb and flow. It's not enthusiasm and flowers every minute of every day. Fans appreciate a natural approach to language and posting.  And, yes, when you do bring the flowers home, bring 'em big and proud.
3. Be honest. If it seems contrived when you are concepting an idea or writing a post, it will feel 10 times more contrived to your fans. Be honest, not just with them, but also to yourself as a creative, as a human being. And...there's that word again.

What are your thoughts and tips? Honestly, I want to know what you think!

Photo credit:Hillary Stein, Flickr Creative Commons

Now, not everyone does this. There are people who refuse to follow a code. Those are the innovators -- the everyman Steve Jobs of the world -- who see beyond the expected. Beyond the expectation. And, God, we love these people. Forget Steve Jobs, they are our gun-slinging Steve McQueens -- hot, sexy amalgamations of smarmy brains and brawn. The doers. Or...the don't doers as the case may be.

The point is, the most invigorating ideas come from people, or a group of people, who refuse to follow convention. And, yes, there is a need for organizational structure and clear definition of who does what, but not at the expense of progress and creativity. For so many organizations patriotic dedication to silos, boundary-defined roles and departmental division leads to slower progress, or worse, boredom.

For a brand boredom is the kiss of death. We all know boring brands that could use more innovation. They are the brands who refuse to look outside their industry with intrigue, brands that refuse to embrace mystery and excitement. Well, the same is true with people. People need to look outside their given roles in life to see what is possible to improve them. They must quit doing what they are doing in order to accept new thinking and find solutions.

Now more than ever we have the chance to improve our lives. To shift thinking. The world is in a revolutionary state of change. Brands and the agencies that serve them must jump in fearlessly and participate in the creation of this new world order. Those that abandon convention, those that integrate with other departments to create new models of thinking, those that take risks based on intuition will succeed. And the job will not be just a job, it will be a passionate fight for innovation. So, go ahead, quit your job.

There’s a moment in the creative process when everything stops.  The image of the scene hangs breathlessly in the air.  It calls out “look at me, this is it, what you need to see.”  It’s the moment of creative actualization. 

It’s what I live for.

Despite lusting after that moment, I’ve often thought it a bit odd when it happens.  I’ve even closeted the experience.  Telling you, really, for the first time.  I’m hoping there are others like me.  Or maybe I’m just suffering from some form of advertising-industry induced hallucinations.  And not the kind I used to experience in my Chelsea days in the early 90s – that’s another post.

It feels similar to when you’re in a plane hanging above the Earth.  When the movement seems to stop and the rippling water below is quiet and still.

Everything clears.  It’s just the idea.  Standing there in solitude. A creative Polaroid.

It’s resulted in some pretty killer campaigns, so despite my possible mental illness, I’ll go on inviting suspended reality. 

I initially was going to title this post "White Power" and then I remembered what those words actually mean outside of my head and settled for the less complicated, more inclusive title you see above.  I've been in a white phase recently creatively pushing towards white inspired campaigns and encouraging the use of white space when we run into a bit of a design jumble.  I'm certain it's a joke at the agency -- just use white.  It's the openness and cleanliness of the color that attracts us.  It's why I'm here now even.  I love this Posterous White -- I think I'll tell Pantone about it.  Here are white things that inspire me:

1. White Apple products.  I love everything Apple.  I'm typing on my trusty, clean Mac as we speak.  At work, however, I was issued a Dell something-or-other by the IT guy after a ridiculously heated battle with him about how the entire agency needs to be on Macs.  I could write a series of posts about this very long debate.  The net result of it was he insisted I needed a PC at work to communicate with all the departments at the agency, some who must be on PC because of the monstrous databases they run.  Huh?  I deferred.  OK, so anyway, he charmingly said -- I am getting you the best PC on the market for you -- you can pick its color.  What?  Thank you, beautiful IT guy.  White.  White, of course.  I have a pretend Mac, a beautiful, gender confused PC masquerading as a Mac.
2. White gallery spaces.  Simple like this___________________.  So beautiful.  So clean. So dramatic.
3. Milk.  I just ran out of milk at my house this morning.  I'm not happy typing this, because I know in the back of my head we have no milk. Beyond the white, cool satisfaction it offers gliding gently over your tongue, milk is a perfect visual icon of clean wholesomeness.  It's so beautiful and textural.
4. The White House.  I now love the White House.  I wasn't as keen before when a white man lived there -- go figure.
5. White Dog Cafe.  This was my hang-out when I was a student at Penn.  I was great friends with the co-owner and famed chef Kevin Von Clause.  Good thing, because I couldn't afford to eat.  The color white literally kept me alive during my last year at school.
6. White flowers.  On my first day at my very first job working for a boutique fashion PR firm in NY I was tasked with calling Anna Wintour, the famed editor of Vogue, in Paris while she shopped at Louis Vuitton.  I'm not kidding.  Call Anna Wintour. In Paris.  At Louis Vuitton.  Speak French.  First job. First day.  First task.  After I did that, I was then asked to send her an arrangement of all white flowers.  Absolutely no carnations.  Maybe this is the driving moment of my addiction to white.  And while we are talking addiction...  
7. White soap.  I only buy white soap.  It makes me feel cleaner.
8. White toothpaste.  Ummm...do I even have to explain this?  What is with that blue goo?  And stripes?  They don't even stay stripey after about the third use, especially in my house with three kids -- toothpaste is one of the messiest products in the world for families.  And if you have kids you know what I'm talking about.  Stick with white and at least you minimize a bit of that.
9. White dental floss.  I can't have the mint green.  I'm afraid it will turn my teeth green.  What if a bit wears off?  I know, they've tested it.  But think about it -- what if one of the researchers took the day off, or was disgruntled and just let the tooth-discoloring green dental floss slip through to the shelves of Target.  I'd rather play it safe. 
10. White paper, no lines.  Am I beginning to sound like Howard Hughes?  I love the super empty space of white paper.  And I know I'm not the only creative type out there with this addiction.  A creative director I worked with once kept a stack of giant, white sketch pads in his office.  They were really giant.  As if he were going to do kindergarten-finger-painting-giant.  I really respected that.

Oh, there's more, but I have to go buy milk.