Tiger Woods, this week's Icarus, grew up with the Web.
Indeed, when he seemed to be flying most closely to the sun, Woods insisted that instead of talking to the police, he would only communicate through his own blog, TigerWoods.com.
News of his striking an iron fire hydrant and a wooden tree with his Cadillac Escalade was generated not by conventional media, but by Web media, principally led by TMZ.com.
While the more conventional media were still telling the story of how Woods' wife had supposedly saved him from a terrible fate, TMZ, RadarOnline, and others (the one conventional medium on TMZ's side was the more traditional Enquirer, but traditional media have always despised this under-rated institution) approached the matter with a cynic's eye, a skeptic's nose, and perhaps even a spy's technology.
Together, they produced many alleged lovers and tales of Tiger's conversations with close friends in which he allegedly confided that only a Kobe Special (the evocatively phrased "house on a ring") might remedy the situation.
And now that, according to numerous online sources, we have rumors of sexted photos of the inside of Tiger's trousers, I can think of nothing other than Google CEO Eric Schmidt.
(Credit:
Cliff 1066/Flickr)
Is it mere coincidence that on the day that Woods' most hallowed reputation was assaulted by rumors not only of smutty cell phone photos, but of an affair with a fascinating porn star, Google's CEO spoke to the world from on high?
In an interview with CNBC, Schmidt declared in what some might feel was his softest, most touchingly moralistic tone: "If you have something that you don't want anyone to know, maybe you shouldn't be doing it in the first place."
His statement was meticulously constructed in response to a question about the trustworthiness of the world's most enveloping search engine. However, surely his answer applies to technology in general.
The problem with technology isn't so much that it immediately reveals, but that it immediately records. That is how Google makes much of its money, by recording the preferences of those who use it.
That is also how photographs, opinions, flings, even drunken nights come back to haunt those who may not wish nor deserve anyone's criticism.
In days gone by, sportspeople, movie stars, even, perish their memory, congressmen could keep their less socially acceptable behavior on the down low because proof was somewhat hard to clutch. Of course, people may have talked. But there was no physical evidence.
Now, the minute Playgirl decides that photographs of Tiger's private life and parts are genuine, all will be revealed in its less than salubrious glory. And Woods' interesting faith in the power of his blog to bring the unquestionable truth to those who admire him will seem like faintly naive bluster.
However, as we watch this whole sad, real, painful and even slightly amusing affair (or, as it seems, affairs) unfold upon our Macs, PCs and smartphones, shouldn't it make us wonder what it is to be free?
In order to live a life of freedom, shouldn't we fly in the other direction from Facebook, put some space between ourselves and MySpace, smash our cell phones and invest in landlines, let go of our laptops and most definitely never imagine that our personal blogs will persuade people that we are who we really think we are?
Shouldn't we attempt to live in a way that no one can observe and no one, especially Google, can record?
Tiger Woods might have gone the old media route--an interview with Diane Sawyer or Oprah. Even a Roger Clemens-like session on "60 Minutes." Perhaps one of those might have garnered him a little sympathy, might have earned him a few points in a game now largely driven by a 24-hour news cycle.
But Woods believed in new technology. And it is new technology that might end up doing him the most damage of all.
I understand that some people might be upset that Google CEO, Eric Schmidt, has decided to personally endorse Barack Obama for President.
I have heard echoes that this taints the Google brand, that McCain-supporting Google employees (yes, both of them) are upset and that Mr. Schmidt just might be using this endorsement to foster his company's, or even his own, ambitions in the event of an Obama victory (Gosh, no. Really?).
Here is the news. Every CEO is political. Being CEO is, in its very essence, something of a political position. With a small 'p' and sometimes with a larger 'p'. Most of the time, employees will have a pretty clear idea of which political winds their CEO might be helping to blow.
But criticism of Mr. Schmidt opens up wider issues.
Do we really think of brands as Republican or Democrat? No more than we think of JetBlue or Marriott Hotels as Mormon brands. Think about it- Tide: Republican or Democrat? (Stain removal suggests Democrat, no?). What about Honda? (Those eight-seater people carriers surely suggest Democrat, don't they?)
And should we really believe that a CEO's political proclivity determines how he or she goes about their daily work?
I wonder if some of the whining at Mr. Schmidt carries with it a suggestion that a CEO's politics determine what kind of company leader he or she might be. Republican-leaning CEOs are frightfully mean authoritarians, while deeply Democrat CEOs are cuddly, feely, people-friendly, all-listening altruists. Didn't you know?
It strikes me that the one thing, perhaps the only thing, all CEOs have in common is a remarkable fondness for amassing money. Their political bent doesn't generally dictate how they view their employees or their brands.
I've seen avowedly Republican CEOs who were immensely sensitive and talented managers and Democratic CEOs who were venal, insensitive numbskulls. And vice-versa. I once encountered a CEO who voted as often as possible for Ralph Nader. She was a very fine CEO.
The truth is surely quite simple: Some CEOs are good, some are not so good. And the performance of their brands reflects their personal performance, not their personal politics.
The fact that Meg Whitman is a Republican doesn't affect in the slightest what people think about eBay.
Neither will Eric Schmidt's admission of Democratic tendency (goodness, he contributed $229,216 to Democrat candidates and a vast $6500 to Republicans, so surprise!) drive millions of Republicans to Yahoo or Ask (wait, they might be run by Democrats too..).
Personally, I am far more concerned about what Mr. Schmidt's company is doing with all the intimate information we are allowing it to collect than about whether he rides a donkey or an elephant.
Disclosure: I once voted for the Monster Raving Loony Party. Does that make me a...oh, well, perhaps.
Google's Father, Father and Holy Ghost each released some some very interesting words about advertising yesterday.
Which makes me wonder what the private conversations of the Blessed Trinity must be like.
Mr. Schmidt declared that his Holy Grail was to find the right formula- I think he meant to say formoolah- for delivering ads to YouTube.
Should the ads crawl along the bottom of the video area? Should the run silkily across the screen before the video begins?
Or should they crawl onto your desktop and keep playing until you click a button to declare that yes, you got the message, and yes, you'll be buying the product within the next five minutes?
As I mentioned last week, it isn't easy to change an ad-free culture.
However, in a conference call with investors yesterday, Jonathan Rosenberg, Google's Senior Vice President for Product Marketing, said something that should give all YouTube (and Google) gogglers hope:
"Larry often says we would be better off if we showed one ad -- the perfect ad," said Mr. Rosenberg.
In the interests of balance, here's a bad ad for cigarettes.
(Credit: Dominic's pics)The Larry to whom he was referring was Google Co-Father Larry Page.
Engineers, who understand and appreciate numbers, will naturally assume that the more ads you put out there, the more money you will make.
Yet there comes a point, especially with media that have a specific emotional relationship with their readers and viewers, when the quality of the ads matters far more.
Fashion magazines understand this perfectly.
They have developed a formoolah in which they give pride of place to ads and brands that most closely reflect the ethos of the magazine.
The dubious skin scrubs and armpit creams they shove towards the back.
When it comes to YouTube, Mr. Schmidt should listen to Mr. Page and work with some of the best creative people around.
Together, they could produce ads to run alongside specific videos.
These ads would attempt to use the page in a revolutionary way and have content that would amuse and entertain the viewer rather than make them pissier than a Nascar driver in the passenger seat of a Prius.
The irony is that some of the best recent ads on YouTube- Kobe jumping over the flying sports car for Nike, Rap Partay for Smirnoff Ice- tried their best not to look like ads.
Google should be working with creators such as these to make YouTube the home of the highest quality creative work in the world.
Once they have established that persona, they can run some more pedestrian work alongside the more pedestrian (but high viewership and, um, legal) video content.
This might just make some money, you know.
The difference between Google and YouTube is that Google is a functional tool, a hammer, a screwdriver of information. YouTube, on the other hand, is an entertainment medium. (Er, I mean Internet Service Provider)
Ads should enhance that, not detract from it.
Google management has recognized this thought even on the Google site, where it has been decreasing the numbers of stultifying word-selling paragraphs.
Apparently, there exists an in-house rule that says as ad revenue improves through better targeting of messages, the company reduces the number of pages featuring ads.
Because even when it comes to a rational medium (and Joan Rivers) there is such a thing as too much.
Sergei Brin, the other Co-Father of Google, suggested this was not a perfect formoolah, as the site might end up with no ads at all.
Er, yes, OK.
But let's try the quality advertising route for YouTube. It's surely a better way to broadcast yourself and your commercial intentions.
With any luck, we could get a 66% vote in favor at the Google Summit.
Just thought I'd throw in some numbers there.
Sometimes, apparently unrelated events are really part of a strategy.
You trim your eyebrows. You visit a shrink. You suggest a late meeting with an attractive co-worker. Only afterwards do those around you see the connection between the three.
I am getting the same feeling about Google.
Google always wanted everyone to believe that it would never change. That it was a fine and spiritual body, eager to do good, while taking charitable donations on the side. (the side of the page, to be precise)
A sort of Mother Teresa with sideburns and a poetic songbook.
Now, as Bronski Beat and the Gershwins might have whispered, it ain't necessarily so.
Over the last few weeks we have seen Google redesign the little logo on your browser, choosing an unassuming little g to replace the biblical capital it used to employ.
We have heard Chairman and CEO Eric Schmidt reveal that the "Do No Evil" mantra is actually a rule that "allows for conversation".
And we have been appraised of Sergei Brin's plan to take a holiday in space.
Let's pretend all these things are part of a strategy for a moment. A strategy called: "Alright, you've got us. We're a big ole' company now. And what's wrong with that?"
So let's start with the little redesign.
You don't redesign the whole logo- just the part of it most people are likely to see every day. In my rookie days as a tech ignoramus besmirching ZDNet's Between the Lines, I suggested that Google needed to modernize its slightly kindergarten logo.
Much defensive emotion ensued. Yet here we are, the eyebrows are being trimmed.
Then, in what seems like a casual aside to one of the more famous journalists and an influential audience, you explain that all that do-gooding stuff, well, c'mon, you didn't really believe we were missionaries, did you?
You did? Well, um, our missionary position has changed.
Of course we debate things, but, really, China is evil? Advertising is evil? How could that be? Golf started in China. And Salman Rushdie started in advertising. See, no evil there.
Did you see that? That was the visit to the shrink.
(Credit:
artwork by borf. uploaded by daquella manera)
Finally there's the late meeting with the attractive co-worker.
Well, when Google announces that one of its founders is off to space, you know that your company is now firmly established, as, well, part of the establishment.
When Sergei Brin declares he intends to do the very same as Virgin's Richard Branson, then you know that your public relations is entering a very conventional, if (or, perhaps, therefore) entertaining phase.
If Mr. Brin had announced free plastic surgery for all employees, or his intention to found a church in Waco, Texas, then perhaps there might have remained a claim to outsiderdom.
But the old space travel thing? Perhaps not.
So please forgive me for suggesting the Google strategy is changing.
Idealism has run off to Vegas, married realism and taken its new spouse's name. It's OK. There'll still be a nice party when they get back.
How's the share price, honey?
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