A proliferation of choice. On the one hand we want to be able to choose, but on the other, we don’t want so much choice! How can we reconcile these two seemingly conflicting states? How can we rescue value in what we consume and make it ‘valuable’ again?

Make me a better editor

Broadcasters and marketeers face this dilemma particularly acutely. We are obliged to give people a wide range of choices, and help them to choose – but without making the choice for them. (That would be rude.) We need to make people better editors – editing a wide range of choices. But if we make people better editors, how can we ensure they still consume the same amount of adverted media, or secure the same level of material purchases? There needs to be some level of wandering (a new name for surfing) in order for people to ‘stumble/be drawn to/snared in to’ an advert. Amazon has been running with the ‘Recommendations for you’ model, which is now being used by YouTube and others, too. But do we like it if an algorithm is giving us advice on what to buy? It may be preferable to a ‘suit you, sir’ shop attendant exploiting your vulnerable shopping eyes with their quick skill and fervour – but it’s impersonal. And without the personal, there’s less room for intimacy, less room for connection, and value becomes harder to find.

What online should I do?!

Children like to be read stories, but at the onset of adulthood we realise that our independence is more expansive than we can manage. There are many more things we can do, too many things to do, too many choices. We may still like to be read stories (watch soaps, films, read novels) written for us to consume, but we now know we can micro-direct how we consume them. We can choose the time, the place, the platform, the amount we consume, amongst other things. And even if we’re short on time, have no choice of the place, or the platform or the amount we have to consume, we can learn from our experience of confinement and how we could make better choices in the future to allow us more control – and more choices. We’re working to free ourselves to live better lives, so we struggle in that direction.

On web pages it’s even more acute. We are overwhelmed with the ability to ‘construct’ our interactive narratives (hyperlinks offer us a choice of where to go on the website, what should I click through to to improve my experience of this website? What should I Digg, or Like/Recommend/Send?). ‘What on earth should I do?’ ‘What online should I do?!’

And yet, we sometimes still have that innate desire to be read a story. We value the skill and ability of the creator of the content we’re consuming. OK, there are choices given to us of how to consume it, but we often want to escape into the psyche of the author – whether that’s in affirmation, curiosity, or convenience.

Money makes the head spin round

With Direct Debit, PayPal and cookie-stored bank details on websites we lose value in what financial capital we actually have. The quicker the transaction is processed the better – we now accept. Less time is spent thinking if we can afford it. Sometimes, we can be so enamoured with a deal that it feels pretty much ‘free’. We’re only next reminded of what we’ve done when the postman arrives a few days later, or checking our bank statement at the end of the month. Often things are ‘sold’ as ‘free’ when, in fact, that’s purely a heresy.

Take mobile phone contracts. Are free minutes really ‘free’? Are we not paying for them at all? Do we not still pay our phone bill each month, from which these are a part? The problem is it’s just not sexy, or of marketing benefit, to call them by their true name: ‘cheap’ minutes. After all, everything’s cheap nowadays, so what would be the draw to the deal? It has to be called ‘free’.

Take Hotmail. It’s just free, right? ‘There are no ‘Hotmail’ entries on my bank statements over the last 12 years. So where is the cost? I don’t look at the adverts…or do I?’

Similarly, with estimates of around 95% of all digital music being illegally downloaded it loses its value if it doesn’t cost us anything. It’s free, but it’s not free.

And when we buy quickly, what do we lose in the pre-purchase value of a product i.e. the emotional credits we enjoy as we fantasize how this product will improve/change our lives? Marketers either have to encourage such a period of fantasy prior to purchase, or it may be in their best interests to encourage a habit of ‘impulse buying’ – ‘one-click’ style. i.e. if your customers are more conditioned to impulse buying, are they more likely to pay more, and more regularly, for different items? Do we value a new TV more if we are on a shopping trip/wander and, despite not planning to buy a TV on that particular visit, we come across one we are so enamoured by and go and buy it? Or if we decide we need a new TV and spend a few weeks researching and looking for recommendations, then go and buy it, are we 1. More likely to value it more. 2. Likely to spend more?

Conclusion

The real issue at stake is how can we ensure people can get the value they crave within the structures of hyper-choice media environments – and where this craving could lead to. Predictions of the future are packed with ways to make our lives and interpersonal interactions easier, but maybe we won’t get value in these, and insist on ‘old fashioned’ activities like playing real boardgames with real people in the room (instead of linking up to virtual or remote players via our latest computer consoles). We could see this almost as nostalgia as a human right.

We have to work to make things valuable. We may organise a house party viewing of X-Factor (as opposed to watching it on a Twitter or Facebook feed). We may go to the shops to buy that book, while at the same time meeting a friend for coffee. Or if we do to stay physically isolated, we may write a blog or Facebook post review of a TV programme, album etc. and share it in our online community. We mustn’t let the media product we consume become our community. Value can’t be confined to being on demand. It can be demanded, but it’s not often found in the immediacy of the consumption we’re increasingly accustomed to.

Be prepared for a much bigger war ahead. The fight to rescue value.

Posted by Andrew Horton