(Or…
I’m an influencer, she’s an influencer, they’re an influencer,
wouldn’t you like to be an influencer?)
The
other day I happened to be wandering around a social media platform.
Specific
one isn’t important. What I was doing isn’t important. (Truthfully,
full admission, neither answer would be all that special.) What
does matter for our time together here is that during a portion
of my visit, my attention was on occasion being directed toward
the profiles of a few other people.
Have
you ever looked over some of the information people share on social
media? Or, more specifically, the information they present on
social media? Perhaps as a profile blurb?
Turns
out, there are a lot of people that seem to believe they are influencers.
Like, an incredible a lot of people. We’re talking A LOT
of people.
What
stunned me in particular is how many of these movers and shakers
have no followers. Tell us what’s hot… tell us what we’re missing…
and if a tree falls in the forest but no one is there, who cares?
If
you scan their page, look over their interactions, try to figure
out what they want to say and share and… apparently, it’s not
much. Because no one is following them. In a broader sense, it
raises something that one might think of as a checklist of accomplishments
or some sort of evaluation of qualifications.
You
want to be an influencer? Ok. What do you need to do to actually
qualify as an influencer?
Years
ago, when my wife and I were first dating, I showed her how I
make scrambled eggs. My secret ingredient, then as it is now,
is a little bit of blue cheese dressing. She loved it. It’s a
part of how she makes scrambled eggs to this day.
Does
that make me an influencer? Why or why not? I did influence her.
I
could offer up an endless list of amazing things she’s brought
to my life. Is she an influencer?
Sure,
I get that my examples are really simplistic. Obviously there
needs to be something else involved. Otherwise, I’d be willing
to believe that all of us have experienced a moment where we’ve
influenced another. Unless we’re selling Dr. Pepper, it probably
doesn’t qualify as a professional opportunity.
Does
someone need to pay you for your efforts? Do you need to cross
a line, effectively creating distinctions such as amateur influencer
and professional influencer?
Does
it mean you have to bring someone along to the ultimate reward
that you don’t have a relationship with?
Do
you need more than a thousand social media followers or commentors
or subscribers?
If
you have forty-seven people (or less) signed up to follow your
wisdom and endorsements, with a rough average of people sharing
your posts hovering around one (perhaps we could round up to two),
you’re probably not an influencer.
But
you don’t need me to tell you that. Mainly, because if you are
looking up at numbers like that and fancy yourself as an influencer
of note (and not an influencer to be), you probably wouldn’t listen
anyway.
Instead,
it reveals something a bit deeper. Almost philosophic. It’s not
how you see yourself, promote yourself, define or present yourself.
It’s the other side of the coin. It’s how others see you, view
you, explain and accept you.
If
you are an influencer… if you want to be an influencer… fantastic.
I wish you well. Just do us all a favor, and at least consider
those that you hope believe your claim of on the job description.