Archive for the ‘Narrative’ Category

Digg the Toyota Scene

Thursday, April 8th, 2010

When Toyota hit the icy patch in their narrative this January, they did not do what most organizations their size would do, they didn’t do what the Tiger Woods brand did when the Escalade hit the fire hydrant:  huddle, confer, strategize, ponder, debate, script, re-write, close ranks, assume a defensive posture, call in damage control experts, and use all of it as an excuse for Not Doing Anything.

No, they improvised.  And by that, I don’t mean they flew by the seat of their pants, or made it up as they went along.  From the CEO on down, they jumped into the conversation with the audience and performed aggressively to build a narrative that countered the media hysteria around the recall and the ambulance-chasing members of the legal profession who fanned its flames.ToyotaLogos1

This is what improvisation is.  A conversation designed to connect the performers with their community.  Not a monologue, a strategy, a script or a campaign.  A dialogue. Observations and comments.  Listening and responding.  Action and reaction.

AdWeek this week highlights one component of Toyota’s conversation with the audience:  a Digg Dialogg with Toyota’s head of U.S. Sales, Jim Lentz.  One of the more telling beats in the article is how skeptical J.D. Power & Associates, the traditional arbiter of performance and quality in the automotive industry is about this tactic.  They don’t see ‘movement’ in their polls, they say.  The jury is still out, they say.  What the J.D. Power people fail to grasp is that the conversation itself is the movement.  The fact that it happened, along with untold other interactions between the brand and audience, constitute a flow of events that defy any one snapshot’s (i.e. poll’s) ability to capture its effectiveness.  Trying to measure one data point in a narrative with a million data points is foolish.  J. D. Powers is trying to apply old school metrics to a new school process.  It’s like taking a poll about how people feel about Rings and using it to gauge the audience’s perception of Lord of the Rings.

No doubt there’s a major problem with Toyota’s process, the company has admitted as much.  Its quantity got ahead of its quality.  It began thinking of its audience as consumers instead of customers.  It’s a big, big, issue, with immense implications for the brand.  What’s impressive is that they didn’t let the immensity overwhelm them.  They didn’t look for an epic solution to the epic problem.  Rather, they began a journey of epic proportions., and they are conducting it one conversation, one scene, at a time.  They are contrite, but they are not backpedaling, or wasting time deliberating.  That would cause the narrative to lose its momentum.  They didn’t script a narrative and then try to force it on the audience.  They improvised, with the conviction that their journey will eventually re-connect them with their community, and win back its confidence and its applause for their performance.

The Consumer is Dead, Long Live the Customer

Friday, April 2nd, 2010

This is an important distinction for brands to make:

No more Consumers.

Customers.

Every time you refer to your ‘paying audience’ as Consumers, subtract one point from your brand’s Adaptability Index (AI). Every time you refer to them as Customers, add one point.

Here’s why:

Consuming stuff is so last century. The piggery and gluttony that came with relating material goods and conspicuous services to one’s status is totally unsustainable. It is a zero sum game.

Customizing stuff (and oneself), on the other hand, the honoring of customs and customers, is the engine that drives the sustainable economy. It is a generative process designed to conserve and make more efficient use of increasingly scarce resources.

Consumers consume. Customers customize. That’s it in a nutshell.

Here are some of the implications:

Nathans1Brands who emphasize consumption contribute to obesity, both mental and physical. They represent an ever-larger drain on the planet’s resources. They introduce a lot of useless crap onto the world by manufacturing illusory needs. They associate levels of consumption with status. The biggest of this. The most of that. The hardest. The shiniest.  The latest and greatest. These brands pay for the audience’s attention. Most significantly, they define the relationship between the brand and the audience using numbers.

I, Consumer, am a number of numbers. This is my number of average waking hours per day. A percentage of those waking hours belongs to you, a brand. During the percentage that belongs to you, I consume a percentage of the yearly sales of your product in my demographic. You spend a number to hold my attention. If that number stays below a certain acquisition price relative to the yearly value of the percentage of my day that I devote to you, you will keep spending it. If it gets too high, you will let my attention drift elsewhere. A computer program will tell you what to and then cover your tracks so that you’ll be blameless.  No one will be able to lay a hot dog on you.

Brands who customize largely participate in customs that already exist, customs into which they’ve been invited by a customer.  (The attempt to manufacture a custom is costly, with very low ROI.)  The relationship between a brand and a customer is a conversation, a dialogue. These brands serve causes that cannot be defined by numbers (even as numerical values for what they contribute and receive as a result of their participation, can and must be assigned and evaluated continuously). Brands with customers understand that consumption of the brand’s product or service represents part of, but not the entirety of, their value to the customer.  Consumption is one an element of a narrative that has many elements, most of which are outside the brand’s control. These brands prefer earning attention from their audience to paying for it.

Wurstkuche2I, Customer, am an individual. One of a kind. All my friends are one of a kind. I got my thing, you know, just like you got yours, just like everybody’s got their own. I am basically awake 24 hours a day, because I got plates in the air, you know. My homies in Bulgaria are coding some tracks we’re going to run off a honeypot server for which we are getting paid by a new label in Atlanta call Tso-Tso that does B-Boy tracks for mall shows and competitions all over the Southern U.S., Australia and the Philippines. Shit is off the hook. We get a dollar per download, and already this month we’ve made five thousand dollars. First thing in the morning, I am catching a plane to Fort Meyers to work with some friends down there who have a band and play clubs at night, and weatherize houses during the day for twenty bucks an hour. I’m producing their next album and they are paying me by getting me a job weatherizing houses for the summer. And on the weekends we take out one guy’s girlfriend’s family’s boat and party like animals. Any brand that’s down for this scene is welcome to roll with me.

In a sustainable economy, how we roll is going to be much more important than how much we roll.  It used to be about the size your boat.  Now it’s about boating like only you (and your crazy friends) know how.

Wurstkuche1

Are You a Narratologist or a Platformist?

Tuesday, March 23rd, 2010

Untitled-1

Narratologists, as the name implies, obsess over narrative.  What makes a good story (and a story good)?  What are the emotional stakes?  What’s the relationship between characters?  Between text and subtext?  Who are the players?  What roles to they play, and do these roles reveal or conceal their true natures?  What motivates them?  What needs to they seek to fulfill?   How does narrative create dialogue between players and audience?  These are the questions keeping Narratologists awake at night, and earning their keep during the day.

Platformists obsess over apps. How solid is an app?  How does it scale?  What languages is it written in (and how many does it speak)?  Who uses it and why?  What is the feature set?  What is the ROI on the investment in an app?   What is the social component?  How compatible is it with other apps?   What’s the relationship between reliability and flexibility?  What differentiates it from its competitors?  If you can answer these questions for more than five apps, you’re probably a Platformist.

AppsShot1One can collaborate with the other, but one cannot be both.  Not at the same time anyway.  We all have to choose.  To help with your decision-making, here are a few things to consider:

Narratives are designed to make sense of the world by distilling information down to its essence.  Most apps and platforms are, by contrast, designed to make information available to as many people as quickly as possible.  One is a  a micro-brewed beer that evokes new sensations you want to share with friends.  The other is beer that evokes images of Clydesdales on television.  Take your pick.

Narrative is, by design, more unique, and therefore scarcer and ultimately more valuable than any platform or app.  As information gets commoditized across platforms–33.5 billion tweets about brands in 2009 (Forrester),  120 million videos hosted on YouTube with an average of 200,000 more added every day (Yahoo Answers), and 400+ million profiles on Facebook (Business Week)–a use of story as the Ultimate Organizing Principle grows more valuable all the time.  Would you rather wrestle with one meaningful narrative, or 33.5 billion mostly meaningless tweets?   Call it while it’s in the air.

Narrative consists of raw, unmediated interaction.  It happens human to human.  Face to face.  Platforms, on the other hand, invite mediated experiences.  The humans you’re really interacting with are the ones who designed the platform you’re using.  Narratologists focus first on the connections and conversations between people.   That’s life.  A Platformist’s foremost concern is the relationship between people and technology.  And while it’s a cleaner, less risky, and more predictable proposition, it’s also not life.  The choice is always ours to make.

Maybe what matters most over the long haul is that narratives are a lot more fun.  They generate energy and emotion, manifest purpose, offer possibilities.  They move people, and liberate them from the humdrum of daily life.  Platforms, from the days of Gutenberg’s first printing press, have always been and will always be persnickety, finicky, tricky, sticky.  They break down.  They spawn frustration and induce headeaches.  We find ourselves chained to them.  It’s the nature of the beast.  Would you rather entertain the possibility of having fun, or guarantee yourself a a certain amount of frustration?   Are you a ‘glass-is-half-full-drink-up’ kind of person, or a ‘this-glass-will-automatically-notify-me-via-SMS-when-its-fill-factor-is-above-50%’ kind of person?  You cannot be both.

Narratives define what platforms cannot.  Narratives lasts longer than platforms.   Mean more.   Engage more deeply.  Evolve more quickly.  Earn more money over time.

Choose.

Kiki, Lala and Fritjof

Wednesday, March 10th, 2010

Take a look at these two passages.  The first written recently by a couple of anime fan/bloggers, Kiki and Lala,  and the second written by the physicist/philosopher, Fritjof Capra, in his book The Tao of Physics, first published in 1975.  KikiLala1AThe human experience has many faces, is described from many perspectives, in many languages, but it is ultimately the same story.  There is no one in this world you can meet, no animal you eat, no plant you grow, no product you use, no adversity you encounter, no interaction of any kind you can have, of which it cannot be said, “We are in this together.”

Story Yourself

Monday, March 1st, 2010
Michael Margolis

Michael Margolis

Not long ago, thanks to a series of events set in motion by our mutual friend, Michelle James, I had the good fortune to connect with Michael Margolis, the founder of GetStoried.com and the author of Believe Me — “a storytelling manifesto for change-makers and innovators.”

There’s a natural affinity whenever professional storytellers get together.  Everything reminds us of a story, and so the conversation tends to leapfrog from anecdote to observation to insight, and back again.  Michael and I not only leapfrogged.  We hopscotched.  We see-sawed.  We tagged, hide-and-go-seeked and monkey-barred.  We were a couple of kids at recess, playing with our favorite toy.

What I like best about Michael’s approach to storytelling is that it’s active.  Story, seen through his lens, isn’t passive.  It’s not static.  Not fixed in time or immutable.

Story is alive.  It’s dynamic.  In constant motion.  In fact, telling good stories, while it has its place, is not nearly as productive as the living of them.  This is what Michael gets at in Believe Me.  It describes stories as our most powerful way of defining and shaping the world we live in.  Seeing stories in this light gives us the ability to transform them from past-tense or scripted, into a form that is revealed to us in each and every breath, and transmitted to our ‘audience’ in each and every action we take.

This is the learning that emerged for me from Believe Me.  Story is more powerful as a verb than as a noun.

Don’t think of story as a Thing.  Treat it as an Action. The act of Changing.  Innovating.  Revealing.  Inviting.  Reflecting.  Making.  Learning.  Leading.  Contextualizing. Connecting. Understanding.  Liberating. And yes…Playing!

Someday, after the fact, a Story may describe What Happened.  Right now, the only time that matters, Story is What’s Happening.  Knowing this difference will make you more observant and appreciative in the moment, and when it’s time for you to tell your story, it will rock, and your audience will Believe.

Over Under Sideways Down

Tuesday, February 23rd, 2010

One of the characteristics of networks is their flexibility. What our communication channels looked like yesterday may not be what they look like today. This, of course, can be an asset or a liability. The net that allows us to build new relationships, discover markets and expand our potential for taking productive action is the same one that swallows channels and markets like a singularity sucking down solar systems in nanoseconds.  The global financial system, guaranteed, is right now teetering on the edge of such a debt-and-greed-spun vortex.  Call it The Bank Hole.

TheBankHole1In our crazy race to escape these kinds of vortexes, we can turn direction-blind.  We pick a course of action, or someone picks a course for us, and in our all-out effort to escape a certain fate, we go heads down as hard as we can for as long as we can in that direction, like barn-sour horses galloping toward a distant barn.  A strategy, as Umair Haque points out in his latest HBR post, can be just as bad as a locked-in direction, because it can confine or limit one’s options instead of liberating them.

What Haque advocates, and what we could not agree with more, is adopting a set of behaviors (he calls these behaviors ‘Wisdom’) that foster liberation of the ideas and the ethical actions that can deliver us from the Goldman-Sachs Singularity, and whatever else sucks.  These behaviors have no time frame, because they are timeless.  They cannot be quantified, because they are potentially limitless in number.

One of these behaviors (me, adding to Haque’s list) is to Envision.   And by that I don’t mean Ayn Rand’s old Burt Lancaster-as-One-Of-A-Kind-Genius concept of vision but what I call ‘Viola Vision’, which consists of ’seeing and sharing what we see.’  This kind of envisioning expands our horizons, and gives us infinitely more options for escaping what sucks.  So in your quest for solutions, don’t forget to:

Look over. It’s how you get perspective on a problem.

Look under. Play with the dynamic of concealment and revelation.  Respect roots.  Dig deep.

Look sideways. My friend, the animation director John Musker, talks about stories as ‘taking an unexpected left turn.’  A sideways move can shake up your narrative in a way that keeps you on your toes and your audience engaged.

Look down. Who needs a helping hand?  Some days, this the only question worth answering.

Cyberhouse Rules

Monday, February 8th, 2010

I speak occasionally to Steven Lisberger, who directed the landmark motion picture, TRON.  Naturally enough, the conversation usually comes around to cyberspace and how, as Steven puts it, “TRON came true.”  Lately, we’ve been talking a lot about the role of story and storytellers in the networked world.   Steven has a way of boiling things down to their essence.  Sometimes I call him Obi-Wan.  Here’s some Jedi from our most recent conversation:

Lisberger and Me

Lisberger and Me

“For most of mankind’s existence, our subconscious mind has been hidden.  Now it’s on full display in the network.  Everything you can dream of is there and accessible instantly.  And the question is, what are we going to do with it?”

“People need a new way in.”

“If one aspect of work, access to information, has gotten infinitely easier, the laws of physics tell us that another aspect, one that maybe we don’t recognize yet, has gotten infinitely harder.  We expect things to always get easier, but that’s not necessarily true.”

“On one side of the equation you have the swarm, the hive mind, whatever you want to call it.  And on the other, you have all these tools, and this demand for productivity.  If you don’t know what you’re doing, it will get revealed quicker.  So you have to really know what you’re doing.  The swarm has to be grounded in capability.”

“The network and the tools are amazing.  If people learn how to use the network and the tools, they’ll be amazing, too.”

“One result of networks is the democratization of quality.  When all content is pumped out and made accessible, it creates a kind of middling format.  It leads to a common denominator effect.  This is why elitism matters.  Not just anyone can tell a good story, or create a good design.”

“Intellectual bullying perpetuates the wrong argument.”

“With improvisation, you can do a scene where one person plays the landlord and the other person plays the tenant who’s behind on the rent.  Then those two people reverse roles, and from that process, you learn how to go about resolving the problem.  In business, that never happens.  No one switches sides or changes roles.  If you play for the Blue Team, that’s the team you stay on.  If you’re on the Yellow Team, you stay on that team, and you argue for that side.  And you just keep on having the same argument, and it’s terrible, because nothing changes, and nothing ever gets resolved.”

“What you’re doing with GameChangers is fracturing and realigning the sides of the argument so that problems can get solved.”

“The subconscious mind doesn’t recognize time.  It exists in a permanent state of ‘now.’  In this sense the subconscious mind is like a child, who doesn’t know anything but ‘right now.’  When the subconscious mind makes itself visible and instantly accessible in the network, and everything exists in a state of now, it breeds immaturity.  We begin operating at the level of awareness of an 11 year old.  Maturity is something you can only get to over time.  It’s linear in that sense.  The ethics and perspective that come with time and maturity are what’s missing in this environment.”

“Maturity comes from mastery in the physical realm.”

Quantum Narrative

Thursday, February 4th, 2010

We create and share stories as a way of understanding the world.   Our ’sense of narrative’ guides us through life.  Narratives are the basis of community.  They inform our relationships.  Characterize our business decisions.  Color our music.  They affect everything from our spiritual beliefs, to the schools we attend, to the products we patronize.CaveWallDrawing2

Storytelling is in our DNA.  You can even say our DNA is, itself, a story as old as life on the planet, told in a language first translated in 1953 by scientist-storytellers Watson and Crick.  Before 1953, scientists knew the story existed, they just didn’t understand the language in which it was told.  Watson and Crick cracked the code and the story has been unfolding ever since.WatsonCrick1

Narratives are the most powerful way we have of organizing information.  They impose structure and meaning on the chaos of communication that flows like a thousand roaring rivers into, through, and out of networks.   They connect virtual experiences to the real world.  They inspire action.  Narratives make sense of it all, and of our relationship to it all.

As you may know, brand narratives designed for the networked world cannot be scripted, they must be improvised.  Much of the work we do at GameChangers involves helping our customers become better improvisers of their narratives, and not focus as much on telling good stories as they do on living good stories.  It is much easier and more cost effective to preach what you practice than it is to practice what you preach.

Here’s a huge distinction between scripted and improvised narratives:

Scripted narratives operate under the laws of Newtonian mechanics (also called classical mechanics).  Call them Newtonian Narratives.  Improvised narratives, by comparison, operate according to the laws of quantum mechanics.

Call them Quantum Narratives.

NewtonianBalls1Here are some characteristics of a Newtonian Narrative:  It is finite, with a beginning, middle and end.  It unfolds in linear time.  It follows a formula or script.  It has a credited author.  It is inhabited by a well-defined and finite number of players.  It is rooted in physical geography.  It is platform specific (even when it is multi-platform).  It is solid, mechanical, repetitive and dependable.  It is immutable.  The book you read today will be the same book tomorrow.  It is causative, that is everything in a Newtonian Narrative happens because of something else.  Events are related to one another according to its formulas.  (”If Peyton Manning endorses it, people will buy it.”)

Another important distinction:  a Newtonian Narrative can only be conjecture before the fact and can only be true (or not) after the fact.  That is, until events have actually transpired, there is no truth to these narratives.  A book cannot be read until it has been written, , a news story cannot be reported until the ‘news’ has occurred, and all our scripts, game plans and predictions are, at best, a positive vision of what we’d like the future to hold.  None of it is our reality.  Newtonian Narratives predict the future and chronicle the past, but they are not ‘alive.’  Examples of Newtonian Narratives are: market research, feature films, sitcoms, print media, TV ad campaigns, style guides and the shopping list on your refrigerator door.

One more characteristic of the Newtonian Narrative:  It places a premium on knowledge, by defining knowledge as a have/have-not concept.  It rewards ‘knowing,’ and penalizes ‘not knowing.’   In the Newtonian Narrative, knowledge is something you earn, or pay to acquire, at which point you are said to ‘own it.’

None of this is to say that the Newtonian Narrative is necessarily bad, or undesirable.  Just like Newtonian mechanics in physics, it has its place, and that place is vital, as Toyota is learning today to its dismay, with all its recalls on defective car parts.  (Something in its process didn’t follow the script its engineers had authored.)

Networks call for a different approach to storytelling.  A quantum approach.  Understanding this difference and acting on it presents a huge opportunity for businesses and brands, and perhaps our best chance for economic growth that is both profitable and sustainable.

QuantumStructure1The Quantum Narrative redefines storytelling by ripping up and recomposing the stuff stories have been made of since the first cave dweller showed her companions how to build a fire (and got thrown out of the cave not long after by another cave dweller who claimed the secret of fire for himself).

Though it literally has existed forever, production of this kind of narrative is still in its infancy.  You can see glimmers of it in transmedia, massive multiplayer games, distributed production models, theme parks, social media, alternate reality games, activist brands, smart badges, business in China, remixes and mashups, augmented reality, micro-loans and the video of your dance in the musical, Hair.

Here are some of the characteristics of a Quantum Narrative:  It has no beginning, middle or end.  It has unlimited numbers of beginnings, middles and ends.  It is generative instead of repetitive.  It is participatory instead of authored.  There’s no traditional storyteller-audience relationship; in the Quantum Narrative, everyone is responsible for creating the story.  It does not foster consumption as much as it invites customization.  This is why participants in these brand narratives are not consumers; they are customers.  Or players.

A Quantum Narrative is not bound by time, space or geography.  As with human DNA, what happened 40,000 years ago is still present and active in the narrative today.  This kind of narrative can transpire in the blink of an eye or unfold over many millennnia.  Or both.  It happens here at the same time it’s happening across the room or the planet.  It resembles the playing of a game by an infinite number of players more than it does the telling of a story by one person to an audience in a room.

A Quantum Narrative is platform agnostic.  You cannot tie this kind of story to a technology or convention, because is designed to liberate itself from such conventions and transcend the media that deliver it.

A Quantum Narrative is present tense, which means that it does not get bogged down by history or saddled with expectations.  This is probably its most important characteristic, because it means that every single action in the narrative holds breakthrough potential.  Breakthroughs are not predicted by the narrative, they are, rather, made possible by it.  It is non-causative, that is, you cannot always know how or why things occur.  Serendipity plays an important role.

Quantum Narratives do not focus on who has knowledge and who doesn’t.  Instead, they begin with the premise that everyone (and everything!) has knowledge, and the fact that we don’t all know the same things is an advantage, not a drawback.  Quantum Narratives are designed to be shared, not owned.  They emphasize interpretation, context, and perspective over a so-called body of knowledge.

Quantum Narratives create the conditions for unexpected collaborations and syntheses of ideas.  They connect what has been scattered, make whole what would otherwise remain divided, and continually evolve.

They focus more on theme than on plot.  They assess performance in terms of consistency (thematic alignment) and inconsistency, not in terms of rightness (on message) and wrongness.  There’s only one way to be right, but there are unlimited ways to be consistent with a theme.  This, too, has huge implications.   It means that Quantum Narratives, in addition to being more adaptive, possess way more potential than Newtonian Narratives do.  It’s the difference between an atomic reaction and a stick of dynamite.

‘The President’s Question Time’ Scene

Saturday, January 30th, 2010

There’s a great tradition in British government that, if you’ve never seen it, you ought to.  It’s called The Prime Minister’s Question Time, and it is wonderful political theater.  Watch some of this.

And then compare this.

Quite a difference.

The first is improvised.

The second is scripted.

Improvisation is active.  It is alive.  Members of Parliament are energetically engaged in the conversation about the matter at hand, supportive of, but not bogged down by, their various ideologies and positions.  Their actions and reactions are immediate, emotional and visceral.  This honors the problem.  American politicians dishonor a problem, and obfuscate it, when they use it as a foil for politicking, which is how almost every problem faced by the federal government is regarded now.  An excuse for campaigning.

ObamaRepubs1This is the big point President Obama underlined yesterday in his meeting with the Republicans.  That 66-minute conversation may be the best thing that’s happened in American politics since the Watergate hearings.  Obama changed the game by calling out the current political game for what it is.   Let’s call the current game “Our Way or No Way.”  It is played by Democrats and Republicans alike, with equal vigor.  This game is toxic.  Limiting.  Stultifying.  Divisive.  And ultimately it’s unproductive.  This is not about blaming one party or the other.  The bad game is to blame.

Yesterday, Obama not only called out the current game for the quicksand pit it is, he suggested a better, more liberating, more productive game.  You might call the game he’s proposing, ‘Part of a Pie is Better Than None.’  In other words, the invitation to the Republicans (Dems, you’re next!) is to find an area of agreement and agree on it.  Do it knowing that some, but not all, and probably not not 80% of what you’ve got scripted, will come to pass.  Don’t be greedy.  Be generous instead.  Don’t place blame.  Accept responsibility.  Don’t point fingers.  Shake hands.  And then come out fighting.  Let’s relish the good fight, one where we fight together to solve the problem, not the bad fight, where we fight over who’s right and who’s wrong about how to solve it.  Let’s pick battles we can win instead of battles we can make the other guy lose.

Cheers to the GameChanger in Chief for changing the game once again.  Our political discourse needs more of the kind of energetic, intelligent, articulate, performances that the Brits demonstrate in their ‘Question Time With the Prime Minister” and Obama and the Republicans staged yesterday.  It will be a healthy transformation.  And it’ll make great TV.  Nothing we Yanks like better than that!

Do not get locked into your script for success.  Be prepared, instead, to improvise your way there.  Remember that other people have scripts, too.  As I can tell you from working in the entertainment business, when all we do is fight over whose script we’re going to follow, the show does not go on.

Mix Mills and Grain Bins

Monday, January 25th, 2010

MixMillsGrainBins1I grew up on a farm.  My father spent a lot of time away from our farm selling and installing systems for other farmers that gave them more opportunity at what was, quite literally, the grass roots level.

One of these systems was called a Mix Mill.  It was a processing machine about the size of a small refrigerator that ground grains like corn and soybeans into livestock feed.  Using a series of black dials on the front of a cool-looking and very loud mint green machine connected to a set of augers, a farmer could dial in mixtures of grains and nutrients, and control the blend and texture of the feed.  This saved the farmer all the time and labor of loading grain into a truck, hauling it to a centralized grain mill, grinding and mixing the grain there in one big batch, then loading it  into 100 lb bags and hauling it back to the farm.

Another product, a Grain Bin, was a big silvery cylinder with drying fans installed around its perimeter that allowed the farmer to store and dry grain until the market presented the best selling opportunity.  No longer did a farmer necessarily have to sell his grain at harvest time, when the market was glutted.  The Grain Bin gave farmers more flexibility by giving them a much larger window through which to move their product.

After breakfast this morning with Scott Walker, the founder of BrainCandy LLC, whose Runes of Gallidon explores production using a networked  model, I can see more clearly than ever that we are in an analogous scenario today.  The ’small farmers’ of our time are Independent Media Producers (IMPs) such as app developers, gamers, bloggers, filmmakers and storytellers of all stripes.

The Mix Mills and Grain Bins of new media–some of them even sporting agri-names like FinalCut, Feedburner, FeedRoom, FeedCompany, Mailbeans and Sprouter–are abundant, and give an IMP almost unlimited ways to intersect with market vectors.  (In fact, anyone thinking of launching a media app would be well advised to take a look at this first.  All 67 pages of it.  It should be mandatory.)

Like Mix Mills and Grain Bins did for farmers, these apps  give the IMP much more say in the supply chain.  A say in when the feed gets ground.  How long it gets stored.  What goes into it.

The apps also hold down the IMP’s expenses.  Costs of fuel, labor and transportation are all lowered.  What was once produced at the centralized grain mill (e.g. a large post production facility with heavy-duty Avid machines and 24-track consoles) can now be produced using laptops in someone’s home studio.

With all these ‘Mix Mills and Grain Bins’ and the unlimited spectrum of mashups and market entry points they make possible, we IMPs– we tillers of the cybersoil, farmers of the fractal, growers of the game–are left with only two questions that have no off-the-shelf answer:  What are we planting? and Why?