Why it got so quiet here

It’s been almost ten years since I started this blog. I have now been on a kind of blogging break for months. This is why:

1. I can’t blog about other people’s secrets. For the past few years, between client confidentiality and some serious family issues, more and more of my thoughts I just need to write to make sense of, have been unpublishable. One of the biggest things going on in my life since October 2012 has been my sister getting cancer – twice. She has been very open about this in her own digital presence – check out her instagram – and also went viral when she took part in a remake of the “Call on Me” music video with a group of cancer patients. So her cancer was never a secret. But it was never my story to analyze online either. This is only one example of several important topics I have needed to put into words lately, which I have chosen to talk about or write privately about, rather than blog about.

2. I got my dream job. People regularly pay me to write, to critique other peoples’ writing, to make websites less annoying, to follow people on Twitter and to talk about digital media. A lot of what I used to do on this blog is now stuff I get paid to do. Sometimes that means I can’t do it for free after work, either because it wouldn’t be fair to my clients and employer, or just because I want to unwind by doing something that isn’t my job. This is a good thing. I used this blog as a writing practice space, and it got me exactly where I want to be.

3. I live with someone. When I moved out of my parents’ house and into my own apartment years ago, I suddenly had a lot of extra unsocial time on my hands. I had a few hours almost every day when there was absolutely no one around. Filling this time with writing was a natural choice, because I was exchanging telling my parents about my thoughts (whether they wanted to know or not) with writing down my thoughts and potentially telling the world (the world did not need to listen). Now I come home from work, and there is usually someone there who actively wants to know what’s on my mind.

4. Over the past few years, I have been learning with my body at least as much as with my mind. I started learning partner dancing about five years ago, and since my move to London and back to Oslo, West Coast Swing has taken over a lot of my free time. Breaking my wrist made it necessary to train my arms, shoulders and back more specifically, which also helped my dancing. Gradually, and without noticing, I built up the strength and fitness to be able to enjoy jogging, so I started doing that. And finally, after 28 years of not quite cutting it as a proper Norwegian, I can now confidently say that I actually do know how to cross-country ski. After going to school and filling my brain with new information for over two decades, it feels right that my learning experiences as an adult should be about training my body to do new things. But this training has filled up time I might otherwise have spent writing, and it has not inspired me to write about exercise. Perhaps because I do not have the right vocabulary, or perhaps because it simply isn’t very controversial: I jog and it makes me able to jog more. Not worthy of a blog post. When I have wanted to write about this, it has been very difficult to put into words without fear of being too personal or making other people feel bad. I have gone through periods of being very frustrated with dancing and struggling to write about that in a way that could possibly be published. (My blog post about competitive dancing gets into some of this.) One thing all this training has made me think about – to the point of wanting to blog about it – is that my gym classes could have been so much better when I was in school.

5. The internet changed. While blogging in general is alive and well, many of the bloggers I used to follow have quit, turned writing words into a paying job (like me!) and/or just relocated to Twitter. Posting something on Twitter is faster, both the actual posting, and the response I get from the internet. I don’t really like this, but it’s the truth.

6. I grew up. Growing up means a lot of things, but this is one way to describe it: You become less selfish, but at the same time, you become more important. What I write here now has more serious potential consequences, because I am important to more people than I used to be. Unlike when I first started blogging, I now have co-workers, clients, bosses, students, competitors and a boyfriend (who also has a family and a network of people who I am in some way important to). Over the past ten years, I have also deepened friendships, started friendships and ended friendships. I don’t pretend that the majority of all these people read my blog. But I have become more aware of the consequences of what my audience might think, and this has introduced a self-consciousness in my writing that I do not like. Can I blog about how weird it feels to be called a social media expert without discouraging potential clients? Can I complain about something bothering me about the West Coast Swing community without a backlash from other dancers? Will being upfront about my opinions on companies or brands come back to bite me when Burson-Marsteller wants them as a client? I didn’t have to worry about this when I started blogging. I barely had to worry about what my parents and teachers thought.

I do not know what all of this means for the future of According to Julie, but I do know that writing is an addiction that I have not fed enough lately and that I need to do something about that.

Being good means knowing how to solve problems

In response to the question “What do computer scientists and programmers know that others do not?”, Rob Fletcher, senior engineer at Netflix, gave this answer:

That the key to being good is knowing how to solve problems not in having encyclopedic knowledge.

Something I have to try to explain time & again when a non-technical person asks me “how do I do x on my computer” is that I don’t know. I can’t explain to you step by step over the phone how to make an image bigger in your document or how to print on both sides of the paper or how to switch between the internal and external speakers. I can probably – given the computer in front of me, some opportunity to explore the problem and accurate information about what you’re trying to do – figure it out. I’m familiar with the language of user interfaces and can use intuition and experience to explore an unfamiliar tool. I’m also less afraid of accidentally breaking something.

Programming is more like that than one might think. Sure, there’s knowledge involved but a lot of it comes down to familiarity with concepts, recognizing similarities in problems so you can apply similar approaches, probing the problem space with different techniques to see what works and when you get stuck knowing how and where to look for guidance.

I can relate to this so much (even though I am not a programmer or computer scientist). This kind of “being good” is why I work with technology, while other people with the exact same education and background might not be comfortable doing so: It’s not that I know stuff, it’s just that I am not afraid to figure stuff out.

This is true both for communication and dance. Being able to explain – in advance and in general terms – how to do something, that is a different skill. That is the ability to teach, which I also do both for dance and communication. But it is very different from being good at doing either of those things.

What to see if you have less than one day in Oslo

This post is dedicated to the international dancers visiting Norway for Winter White West Coast Swing this year.

If you’ve never been to Oslo, and have a few extra hours, or up to a day, to get a feel for the city, here is what I suggest you do:

I recommend starting your city center exploration from Stortinget metro station or alternatively Nationaltheatret train or metro station.

From Stortinget, walk up Karl Johan, the main street. You will pass the Norwegian parliament, Stortinget, and the street will take you up to the Royal Palace. (If you start at Nationaltheatret station you can have a look at the palace and then walk down Karl Johan.)

Walk from Nationaltheatret, via the town hall Rådhuset and the Akershus fortress to Aker Brygge and then out to Tjuvholmen. You will experience the contrasts between the 700 year old fortress, and the brand new buildings surrounding the contemporary art museum Astrup Fearnley. You will also get nice views of the fjord and plenty of opportunities for good photos.

This walk will show you the nicest parts of the city center, in my opinion.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/aigle_dore/6826893096

https://www.flickr.com/photos/aigle_dore/6789041914

https://www.flickr.com/photos/aigle_dore/6789036666

The area around Oslo Central Station (Oslo S or Jernbanetorget) will not give you the best first impression of Oslo. Like most central stations, it’s a chaotic, stressful place, and it is currently surrounded by roadwork.

However, the Opera House and the strip of new buildings known as Barcode right by the Central Station are the kind of new architecturally interesting developments that have given Oslo international press over the past few years. If you have some extra time while you’re at Oslo S, get out of the station and take a look.

The Opera House is one of my top three Oslo summer attractions. But you can’t walk on the roof in winter. For this reason, (in addition to construction, road work and traffic) I prefer seeing this area from above right now. If you have time, you can take the tram 18 or 19 to Sjømannsskolen or the 34 bus to Utsikten (which literally means the view). Or take the elevator to the top of the Plaza Hotel’s Sky Bar.

You can get a different view of the city, this one from the west, at the Summit bar at the top of the Radisson Blu Scandinavia.

If you have more time, you can see another one of my favorite attractions in Oslo: Vigelandsparken/Frognerparken. This park by Majorstuen metro station goes by two names. Technically, the first refers to the sculpture park by Gustav Vigeland, also known as “the park with all the naked statues”, and the second is the rest of the area. Vigelandsparken is a unique art experience. Also, it’s free, and you can climb on the art. In summer, this is a good chance to do a touristy thing that real Oslo people actually do, as the sculptures will be surrounded by beer drinking locals enjoying the park.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/clogsilk/7664779092/in/photolist-cFiZME-LfvTM-8MFY6S-o7edHa-nMYrLg-cmaWD7-cmaEkw-cmaHhY-cmaJXQ-cmaVWA-cmaQu7-cmaXbE-cmaTb3-cmaKYY-cmaG5m-cmaQR5-cmaFwo-aiKUWr-hdvw1g-dYuAHS-dYuBMh-dYoTYn-MZxRj-hdvwvp-pxh6UW-pfPwP1-pvgAfw-pfNTNQ-pfPGMg-pvgw1u-pxgZY7-pfNQRY-pxh2kW-pfNY3w-pfPtD3-pfNEfX-pxiYdc-pfNsYi-pvgFPY-pfPL6a-pfPAuX-px2wEB-pfPCnz-pfPoiy-e1ZMaa-e26q4f-e26oe5-4nwF8x-ddd9Kj-hduogG

One of the best things about Oslo is that it has so much variety between neighborhoods, and it’s compact size allows you to take in all those contrasts without traveling long distances. Neighborhoods like Tjuvholmen, Frogner, Grünerløkka and Grønland look and feel very different from each other, and from the city center. With a public transport day pass, or a good pair of shoes, you can explore all these areas if you have a full day.

If you have an evening in Oslo and want to explore a new area, I recommend Grünerløkka. Take a tram to Olaf Ryes plass or Birkelunden and explore the great selection of bars. Drink beer at Grünerløkka Brygghus or Schouskjelleren, wine at Dr. Kneipps, and cocktails at Bar Boca. Expect to be shocked by the prices for these drinks, but remember that they are much more expensive in the center or western parts of Oslo. Another alternative is Torggata, where I recommend Crow Bar and Café Sara. The beer selection in Oslo’s bars has become pretty interesting over the past few years, thanks to several Norwegian micro-breweries. Advertizing for alcohol is illegal, but here’s a vintage ad encouraging you to drink Norwegian beer:

Enjoy Oslo!

All photos are borrowed from photographers who post their work on Flickr, under CreativeCommons licensing. The photos link back to the photographers’ Flickr photo streams.

Related post: 4 things you should know if you are visiting Oslo

Pastellstilen på forsiden av D2

I går tok D2 opp hvordan ungdommen nå til dags vil kle seg “plain”, enkelt, praktisk, konservativt og likt.

Et av mine første blogginnlegg, da jeg selv var tenåring, handlet om denne klesstilen. Jeg kalte den pastell. Det betyr ikke at folk kler seg i pastellfarger, men at folk oppfører seg som pastellfarger: søte, uprovoserende, litt high-maintenance, men på en tilsynelatende diskré måte. Pastell er en ny variant av soss, som er mer opptatt av stil enn prislapp. Og den er neste provoserende i sin mangel på provosering.

Les hele det opprinnelige blogginnlegget her

Da jeg selv gikk på ungdomsskolen i Lier, var normen Miss Sixty-bukser med korte t-skjorter til (ofte slik at øvre del av g-strengen syntes over buksekanten). Dette ble kombinert med store platåsko. Merkene viste at man hadde brukt mye penger (eller helst fått foreldrene til å bruke mye penger), mens synlig undertøy viste at man var tøff, sexy og opprørsk. Voksne gikk ikke slik.

Det er noe av det meste interessante med pastellstilen. De unge gjør ikke lenger opprør mot de voksne gjennom klær. Nå skal man kle seg som en mini-voksen.

I mellomtiden har den voksne moten blitt mer opptatt av klassisk kvalitet fremfor trender. I 2008 og 2009 dreide mye av motejournalistikken seg mot “investment dressing”: Kjøp selvsagt klær selv om det er finanskrise og du har mistet jobben, men kjøp kvalitet. Prangende merker eller skiftende trender er ikke noen god investering i nedgangstider. Men beige cashmere og svarte kvalitetsbukser er trygge, lure kjøp som kan forklares og rettferdiggjøres. Det er ikke rart dette nå får konsekvenser for ungdomsmoten.

De unge pastellene tilhører også “CV-generasjonen”, en gruppe unge som “vi voksne” er bekymret for fordi de er så motiverte. De er femten og kler seg så de alltid er klare til jobbintervju. Har det noen sammenheng med at de stadig blir fortalt at det er blitt vanskeligere å få en god jobb?

For all del, jeg setter pris på at jeg ikke trenger å se undertøyet til ungdomsskolejenter på bussen hele tiden. Jeg forstår godt at tenåringer ønsker seg store ullskjerf i nøytrale farger til jul. Men kan dere ikke ta noen vågale klesvalg innimellom? Tenk på det min lillesøster sa da hun var 14: “Det er jo nå jeg må kle meg som en fjortis og gjøre dumme klesvalg.” Beige og off-white passer veldig fint til knallrødt.

Her er den gamle bloggposten igjen. Man skulle tro jeg skrev denne pastellbloggposten i går

Derfor plager denne VG-forsiden meg

Jeg har stor respekt for VG. Spesielt etter at jeg skrev dette. I går ble jeg skuffet:

Var det virkelig disse sakene som vant over de andre på VG-desken natt til fredag? Det kommer jeg til å tenke på neste gang jeg ringer VG og forteller dem noe spennende en av mine kunder har gjort, og får høre at det ikke er interessant for VGs lesere.

Det er ingenting viktig på denne forsiden, i hvert fall ikke hvis du sammenligner med en del av de andre sakene i nyhetsbildet for tiden, spesielt utenriks. Viktighet er imidlertid subjektivt. Det som er vesentlig for ett publikum, er uvesentlig for et annet.

Så det er ikke bare VGs feil at forsiden er så banal. VGs papirforside skal forsøke å treffe så mange nordmenn som mulig. De fleste er oppriktig interessert i noe som er komplisert og spesifikt, enten det er innenfor utenriksnyheter, lokal politikk, kunst, litteratur, teknologiske innovasjoner eller noe helt annet. Men vi er ikke alle oppriktig interessert i de samme kompliserte tingene. Det vi har til felles, som et behov for å vaske oss på hodet, virker banalt i forhold.

Det plager meg mer at det ikke er noen nyheter på forsiden. Det er ingenting som er aktuelt i tid. Avisen kunne vært fra forrige uke, eller forrige måned.

Det er heller ingenting som er oppsiktsvekkende eller som skiller seg ut. Vi kunne funnet sjamposammenligning og raske mattips via Google-søk fremfor å lese VG.

Det som imidlertid irriterer meg aller mest, språknerd som jeg er, er at du ikke kan ha en duell mellom tolv sjampomerker. En duell er mellom to. Det ligger i ordet.

 

Apropos tabloid: LES DENNE BLOGGPOSTEN!!!

Hvis du vil vite hvordan jeg synes titler på nyheter bør skrives, har jeg blogget om det også.

Hei nye (norske) lesere!

Bloggposten min om “flink pike”-begrepet ble lagt på VGs forside i går, og plutselig kommer det mange nye lesere inn her.

På bloggens forside kan det kanskje se ut som jeg alltid skriver på engelsk, og det gjør jeg ganske mye også. Hjernen min tenker både på norsk og engelsk, og denne bloggen reflekterer det.

Dette går imidlertid litt i bølger, og nå for tiden kladder jeg mest innlegg på norsk. Så mens jeg gjør dem ferdig, her er noen andre norske bloggposter:

Det finnes jenteblogger, men finnes det gutteblogger?

Facebook er som epost – nyttig, men kjedelig

De uskrevne motereglene som gjelder på hyttetur

Hvorfor West Coast Swing er en fantastisk dans

En viktig melding til alle som tar kollektivtransport (med meg)

 

Flink pike – og stolt av det!

Jeg er en flink pike, men hvis det er synd på meg, er det ikke derfor.

Dagens bruk av begrepet “flink pike” får meg til å tenke på denne videoen:

Den viser de nesten usynlige fordommene folk har om kvinner: menn er ledere; kvinner er bare sjefete. Kampanjen #banbossy, med Facebooks Sheryl Sandberg og den amerikanske jentespeideren i spissen, jobber mot disse fordommene.

På norsk gjør vi en tilsvarende tabbe med begrepet flink pike. Menn er dyktige og hardtarbeidende; kvinner lider av “flink-pike-syndromet”.

I tillegg til å bruke ulike ord om menn og kvinner med de samme egenskapene, tar vi et positivt ord, og bruker det negativt.”Du må slutte å være flink pike”, sier vi. Ved å være mindre flink, blir du befridd fra stress, omverdenens skyhøye forventninger og alle dine vonde følelser.

Vi risikerer at “Du skal ikke være flink pike,” blir en uskreven del av Janteloven. Ikke jobb så hardt hvis du er kvinne; det tåler du sikkert ikke.

Verst synes jeg likevel det er når “flink pike” blir diagnosen som stilles på mer alvorlige problemer.

I søndagens Aftenposten var det en kronikk med tittelen “Ikke så flink pike”. Den var skrevet av en anonym jente som forteller om sin egen usikkerhet, følelse av press og spiseforstyrrelser. “Jeg er ingen flink pike, og akkurat det føles for første gang på veldig lenge helt fint,” skriver hun i det siste avsnittet.

Kronikken handler imidlertid ikke om at hun var flink og derfor fikk problemer. Den handler om nettopp usikkerhet, press og spiseforstyrrelser. Tittelen spiller tilsynelatende på at hun var stressa fordi hun prøvde så hardt å være “vellykket”, men har klart å slutte med det.

Kronikkforfatteren forteller om problemer vi bør ta på alvor. Å sette en hel haug med ulike problemer inn i samme “flink”-boks blir en måte å bagatellisere dem på. Ulike stressede jenter har ulike problemer.

Vi bør tenke oss om og velge om vi heller kan si:
– Hun klarer ikke si nei.
– Hun er usikker på seg selv.
– Hun er overarbeidet.
– Hun har en spiseforstyrrelse.
– Hun er deprimert.
– Hun har angst.
– Hun har ME eller kronisk utmattelse.

Hvis noe av dette,  eller noe helt annet,  er problemet, bør vi søke å løse problemet,  ikke bare sette “flink pike”-merkelappen på hele personen og tro at det på noen måte hjelper.

Jeg har også fått denne liksom-diagnosen mange, mange ganger. Men de gangene jeg virkelig er stresset, trist eller usikker på meg selv, er det ikke fordi jeg er en flink pike – faktisk er tiltaksløshet, fraværende ambisjoner, halvhjertet innsats og annen ikke-flink adferd gjerne tegn på at jeg virkelig ikke har det bra.

Jeg skal derfor være sta og bruke flink positivt om meg selv:

Jeg er flink. Jeg gjorde det alltid bra på skolen, til og med på masterstudiet. Der gikk jeg ut med toppkarakter fra et anerkjent universitet og et tøft studium. Jeg fikk akkurat den jobben jeg ønsket meg, før jeg var ferdig med mastergraden, og det til tross for at jeg studerte noe så lite ettertraktet som journalistikk og samfunnsfag. Jeg gjør mitt beste på jobb, og jeg får stadig vekk både positive tilbakemeldinger og oppgaver med mye ansvar. I tillegg holder jeg dansekurs og har til og med klart å gjøre det ganske bra i et par internasjonale dansekonkurranser. Og ja, jeg spiser ganske sunt, er ganske ryddig og stiller gjerne opp for venner, familie og kjæresten.

Dette er prestasjoner og personlige egenskaper jeg er stolt av, ikke symptomer på en lidelse.

Den anonyme kronikkforfatteren i Aftenposten er også flink. Hun er flink til å sette ord på vonde følelser. Hun er flink til å være modig og ærlig. Hun er (nå, men ikke før) flink til å sette egne grenser og ta vare på seg selv. Hun er en flink pike – og det bør hun være stolt av.

Jeg skulle ønske vi kunne ta dette begrepet tilbake og sette pris på vår egen flinkhet. Hva gjør deg til en flink pike?

Les også: Flinke piker – en slags bruksanvisning

Oppdatering 20.08.2014: Nå fant jeg endelig kronikken jeg omtaler på nett. Den er absolutt verdt å lese – og jeg håper ingen tror jeg mener å kritisere hun som har skrevet den.

Social media is all about digital culture

Image and quote from Tara Hunt

As a communication consultant, I get a lot of questions about the technical side of social media. But I rarely meet clients who want to learn about digital culture. (I really appreciate the clients who do, as well as my colleagues who discuss this kind of stuff with me.)

The interesting debates about digital media have always (to me that is) been about the impact of technological changes on our culture. Does Facebook change our criteria for “knowing someone”, blur the boundaries between acquaintances and friends, turn people you met randomly once into real connections? How do Google and Wikipedia fit into the way we teach students how to research something? Does the rise of Instagram, Snapchat and Vine indicate that we are generally communicating more visually than before? Too often, questions like this are ignored in favor of discussions about how to use specific features of Facebook or Twitter to get the maximum number of eyeballs pointed at a certain product.

Tara Hunt has written a blog post I want to put on everyone’s required reading list. It’s not a complaint about “marketers don’t understand my geeky online sub-culture”, but a good explanation of what makes the internet special and how companies should adapt to this. Trying to appeal to “the mass” is less important compared to finding a niche. Listen about three time as much as you talk. Brands have better options these days than “interrupting the socializing for their commercial breaks”.

Moselle: A backpack that fits my life

I do not travel light. Leaving the house without water, an umbrella, sunglasses and an extra sweater makes me feel unprepared and vulnerable. My wallet is usually stuffed with receipts, coffee shop loyalty cards and really random mementos (never cash though). I never know when I might need dance shoes. And although I chose my own laptop because it was lightweight, Burson-Marsteller did not take this into consideration when they chose my work computer.

So I tend to lug a lot of stuff around back and forth between the office, dance class and home. Several well-meaning adults have told me I should trade my shoulder-bags and briefcases for a backpack. But backpacks make me feel like a tourist, or a little girl on her way to school or someone who thinks they’re going hiking when really they’re just taking the tram to the office. I see those people every day, with their water-proof jackets and sensible shoes, dressing like their children. We call them “allværsjakker” in Norwegian, those unnaturally colorful, weatherproof tents that some people just wear with everything – and wearing a big backpack feels like a few steps away from joining the allværsjakke-enthusiasts.

I’ve blogged in Norwegian about the allværsjakke style rules

Call me a vain, superficial person, and I will respond that I actually need to look like an adult when I’m so often the youngest person in a meeting. And feeling like an adult on my way to the meeting helps.

Enter Moselle, the backpack my dad got me for Christmas last year, and which I still take to work every day. It is to a standard backpack what my white trench coat is to other people’s “allværsjakker” – the fancy, professional, feminine, French version.

Côte&Ciel / Moselle Backpack / Paris from Côte&Ciel on Vimeo.

This is what I love about it:

– It has room for a laptop (in an inner pocket designed for 11” to 13” computers), my dance shoes, and all the other things I think I might need during the day

– It doesn’t make me look like a hiker or a tourist – although the jury is still out on whether I look like a little girl going to school

– It’s lightweight, small and fits close to my back, so I can turn around on public transportation without hitting someone in the face. Just look at how flat it is when it’s empty:

– The color goes with everything I own

– The zipper is positioned to be slightly more of a challenge for pick-pockets, compared to most backpacks

– After spraying it with the same protection spray I use on my shoes, it has stayed water-proof for the past seven months – although I plan on respraying after this week’s downpour.

– My dad was really excited about giving it to me, so I think he put a lot of thought into it, and it’s feels good to really, really appreciate a gift

One drawback so far: the zipper is a bit weak.

Moselle is from the French company Côte et Ciel. They make other backpacks and bags that look nice too. They didn’t pay me to write this, and they have no idea I am doing so. I just want to spread the word about something I like – and answer the “Where did you get that?” question once and for all.

I won’t be offended if we match, but you could always get the black version.

Related post: Dressed for anything

Update: Well Dressed Dad appreciates stylish backpacks as well and has plenty of recommendations on his blog. One post mentions Côte et Ciel and includes a photo of the boring backpack look.

“Racism bad. Eat kale.” – Why Upworthy is noteworthy

Upworthy finds stuff – often, but not always, videos – on the internet, adds a longer-than-standard headline and gets lots and lots and lots of people to look at this stuff.

Here’s their front page today:

There’s something generally annoying about Upworthy. Maybe it’s their incessant nagging demanding that I like their Facebook page or maybe it’s their constant presence in my Facebook feed, whether I like them or not. Maybe it’s the same vague irritation I feel whenever anything becomes super-popular (yeah, there’s some hipster in my personality).

But as a communication geek, I have more reason to like Upworthy than dislike it.

One of Upworthy’s founders is Eli Pariser, the guy who wrote The Filter Bubble. It’s probably a good thing that one of the fastest-growing sites on the internet is founded by someone who thinks Google’s and Facebook’s content filtering algorithms could have scary consequences.

Upworthy’s mission is to “draw massive amounts of attention to the topics that really matter”. It’s hard to hate that. Upworthy uses all the tricks at their disposal to spread content they think is meaningful. They argue that the lowest common denominator when it comes to human beings browsing the internet is not sex, violence or sheer silliness, but “a human craving for righteousness”, to quote this New York Magazine article about the Upworthy team.

The whole NY Mag piece is worth reading, to get a behind-the-scenes view of how the Upworthy team works. In terms of readers, Upworthy is one of the fastest-growing sites in internet history, and more traditional news media are copying Upworthy’s methods for spreading information (from Washington Post’s Upworthy-inspired Know More to tweets that parody Upworthy’s headline style). This supposedly silly video-sharing site is doing what The New York Times says it cannot do right: Researching and testing headlines and other tools for spreading information, so that stories reach the biggest possible audience.

When I worked as a front page editor, I followed the principle that “Readers don’t mind being tricked into reading something worth their time.” If the actual story was good, I could break out every trick in the book (read: not at all written in any book I had access to. It’s not like there was a journalism school syllabus for online front page editing). At a business newssite, that could mean pictures of pretty women or furry animals (bear market = cute grizzly bear). But basically, the more in-depth and well-researched the story, the more tabloid I could go on the front page. I used tabloid as a verb, as in “tabloidizing” important facts and stories.

Upworthy follows this same principle. They’re using different – newer – ways of tabloidizing to spread messages they believe make the world a better place.

Here’s one of the most interesting paragraphs from the NY Mag article:

One curator shares the tip of trying to express the core point of the content in four words. Mordecai gives it a shot: “Racism bad. Eat kale.” Then he lets everyone in on his newest data discovery, which is that descriptive headlines—ones that tell you exactly what the content is—are starting to win out over Upworthy’s signature “curiosity gap” headlines, which tease you by withholding details. (“She Has a Horrifying Story to Tell. Except It Isn’t Actually True. Except It Actually Is True.”) How then, someone asks, have they been getting away with teasing headlines for so long? “Because people weren’t used to it,” says Mordecai. “Now everybody does it, and they do cartoon versions of ours.”

 

Today’s Upworthy front page shows that the headlines are adapting to this new discovery. On the surface, Upworthy seems to break most of the established headline-writing rules, but that’s mainly because their headlines are so long. They’re still doing what headlines are supposed to do: tell the reader why they should click on the link.

I’ll be following what Upworthy does going forward, to see how the new social media version of tabloidization develops.