Last year I came back from the Community Leadership Summit in Portland with the high-level message that we needed to be spreading our gospel throughout the company. This year, the overall vibe I got out of the event was much more practical:
We need to push back. We need to get serious. We need to take control.
From sessions on how community is marketing to how community managers should be CEOs, the vibe was clear: our craft is now legit, and we have the opportunity to not accept the status quo (“Sweet, we can all get jobs now!” as Jono said) but actually make a difference.
Maybe it’s because I read The Cluetrain Manifesto on the way in and out, but we are the employees in our organizations who deal with what the real world actually cares about: conversations. Real, honest, conversations. And we have the power to grow businesses if we not only encourage and join with these conversations, but also tell the other departments to get in line.
Let’s take these companies by the horn. There is a huge market for community managers, so we’re in a far less precarious position than we have been in previous years. We can get hired somewhere else, so as Danese Cooper of Wikimedia said: if your company doesn’t allow you to communicate freely, quit. It won’t actually hurt your profession. Might actually help (it did for her).
This is not to say that we should set fire to the other departments in our building. Rachel Luxemburg from Adobe came from a marketing background, and her comments were a fantastic foil all weekend: yes, marketing and sales and legal go too far. That’s their job. Our job is to push back. If we’re scared to push back, nothing will get done. If they don’t try to defend their principles, we’ll get our butts sued off. Find a balance. Don’t live in fear, and don’t trash their desks. You have to coexist.
We can make a difference. We have momentum now – let’s use it intelligently. Let’s move this from a silo’d effort to what business is about. I believe we can do it.
Footnote: thank you to everyone who came and contributed to CLS11. You can find notes from this year’s CSL at Wikia. There were some fantastic conversations and many more fantastic people, and I can’t wait to continue conversations with you on Twitter. Didn’t attend, but interested? There’s a CLS West in the Bay Area in January and you can keep up-to-date on CLS itself at communityleadershipsummit.com.
CLS photo courtesy of the wonderful Mark Terranova.
Crop photo courtesy of Tgrab.














The curse of event success – a response to SXSW
By regular measurements, this year’s South by Southwest is going to be a massive success. Likely record attendance, big-name premiers, packed houses…wow, they’re really doing something right!
The reality of SXSW’s size is that it simply can’t maintain that quality. In order to accommodate the larger crowds they’ve branched out to new venues. This has meant that panelists have to work harder to get people to come to their particular event, attendees have to traipse many blocks to get to the next venue, and perhaps most significant: there’s less hallway talk. I don’t talk to people as I walk from the convention center to the InterContinental Stephen F Austin. I have 30 minutes, and I have to make it count, because the panel I want to attend is going to fill up quick. Gone are the chance encounters, the lively debates, and the detours to go get beers with new acquaintances.
The core of any conference should be learning and meeting people. With so many options of middling quality and so little time, SXSW is killing both.
I don’t blame the organizers. The event has grown because it was good. The organizers have done their best to accommodate this growth. But should they have?
If SXSW was great before, should they have just stopped allowing new attendees? If that were the case, I wouldn’t be able to go to SXSW. Maybe Evan Williams and Biz Stone wouldn’t have. Suddenly, you’re going to have an event with the same people talking about the same things while the world innovates around them.
I’m dealing with this right now as my Community Manager Breakfast in San Francisco grows. An intimate conversation is suddenly not so intimate when there are 30 attendees. I thought about not letting anyone else in…but brilliant friends and colleagues are applying, so that seems counterintuitive.
The answer, I suspect, is not one any of us want to face. We need to let go. Much like TED expanded to multiple events and then allowed anyone to create a TEDx event, we have to let our events grow horizontally instead of vertically. Maybe I need to let other people do breakfasts, or have two breakfasts a month, or something. SXSW needs to give up on fitting everyone and encourage things like North by Northeast, whether or not they control and make money from them. And Burning Man needs to let this passionate community create more, smaller communities, or risk imploding.
Is it easy? Hell naw. I think many community builders are control freaks…because we care so much. We want everything to be perfect and we can’t ensure that if we let go. But you know what? Things aren’t perfect, even when we control them. And organized is not the same thing as great.
Line photo courtesy of dickdavid.
Burning Man photo courtesy of legsonasnake.