I'll Get You My Pretty, and Your Little Dog Too!

Today, I provide thoughts on increasing your reader base, or your number of followers, or their little dogs.

[SPOILER ALERT:  Isn't it obvious that Dorothy's adventure in Oz is a dream?  Major characters represent people she encountered on the day of a traumatic event, and the Witch's intent focus on Toto after Almira Gulch's encounter with the little good boi is a bit too on the nose.  Plus, no one wears ruby slippers.  Those things would be massively uncomfortable.]

So, back to followers.  I decided to write this post and the preceding one after seeing a teaser in my LinkedIn feed to suggest methods to increase your LinkedIn followers to 85K+.  I appreciate that the poster offered this as a free seminar, even though I have yet to watch it.  But the purpose here isn't to critique the content, it's to delve into the desire to accumulate 85K+ followers on LinkedIn or anywhere else.

I'll be honest.  I'd be extremely happy to have 85,000 followers (or even a tenth of that number).  Having that kind of following indicates I'm providing enough value to either entertain or inform (or, hopefully, both) a large number of people, many of whom I've never had the benefit of charming in person.

It also makes the very primitive business plans I have in mind much easier to fulfill.  Though LinkedIn - at least to the best of my knowledge - doesn't pay ad revenue to content creators for the number of eyeballs like YouTube or other platforms do, there's still a benefit to having a large following.

Namely, and quite obviously, that's exposure.  The more people reading and enjoying my content, the more likely there's someone who is willing to either pay for my content or for my services as a result of reading my posts.  

I recently stumbled across an idea, via a podcast on rock history, that was championed by none other than the Grateful Dead.  I've mentioned it before, but to paraphrase, you want to be able to reach enough people that at least 1000 people are willing to pay you $100 a year for your content.  I'm not a Dead Head by any means, but their business model is something I'd certainly like to emulate.

There's nothing novel here - it's a typical sales funnel, but embedded in the Dead's take on the idea there are a couple of pretty significant wrinkles that would abhor a typical business.

First, and most surprising to me when I first heard it, is that they permit bootlegging.  Their only stipulation is that people are only allowed to trade their bootlegs, not sell them.  Given that the Dead profit most from touring, and cutting into album sales is a secondary concern, this isn't surprising, but it's still refreshing.  It's also a clever way to increase your fanbase with minimal cost.

I'm used to businesses maximizing short-term profits rather than looking at long-term outcomes.  Cynically, this makes sense, because many of the people who are focused on the short term won't be around when the long-term mess arises, so they're apt to accumulate as many spoils as soon as possible.  So, it's nice to see (at least ostensibly) when someone says "we have enough money thanks" and is willing to exchange goodwill in lieu of further monetary payment instead.

Also, piggybacking on this idea is that they're not shutting out everyone except the 1000 people who are willing to $100 a year for their content.  They're simply working toward a belief that at least 1000 people are willing to pay them for that content.  I'm guessing, a la the Patreon model, that subscribers/followers receive special perks for their patronage (in large part via ticket sales), but there aren't artificial barriers to keep everyone else out of the garden.

Personally, I prefer this model of capitalism to those attempting to create an artificial exclusivity or those that chase the last incremental dollar.

In my world, this is precisely what a 'free market' is intended to promote.  I'm responsible for creating something novel and useful and the market will set a reasonable price on what my offering is worth that affords me to make a living.

If I'm not focused on the last incremental dollar, I don't need to create artificial demand and don't need to worry if my income varies as long as I'm making any profit.  

[Aside: I recently responded to a post on LinkedIn stating something along the lines of - businesses can't survive unless they make at least 30% profit.  I was more diplomatic on the site, but this is horseshit.  I don't think these people understand what profit is.  

I received responses back that the business can't grow if the profit isn't high enough.  While it's true that more profit can lead to the ability to invest more in R&D, any profit, by definition, means the business is meeting its monetary obligations.

I also read responses to myself and others that companies will go under if profit isn't high enough.  It's possible that a venture capitalist may pull funding if their arbitrary numbers aren't met, but any business making a profit will remain in business if it so chooses.  Profit, again, is, by definition, money left over after all expenses are paid.  And, again, I don't think these people understand what profit is.]

This gives me flexibility in building out my pricing models.  

I've hemmed and hawed about participating in ad revenue if my user base grows to a requisite size.  I'm not opposed to advertising, because I think it plays a part in helping people discover products (some they need; some they don't) and I've been propagandized by Mad Men, but there's a limit.

As an example, most recipe sites are huge, bloated pages loaded with ads and unnecessary videos that make the experience a pain.  In addition, they intentionally bury the recipe at the end of the page in order to make you traverse a lot of redundant content to reach the recipe in order to increase their ad revenue.

On balance, I don't find the practice unethical and hope that the people creating this content make enough that they can use this model to reach financial independence, but it's not a model I'd choose.

I'll sleep better at night if I offer fewer, more targeted ads and make less off ad revenue in exchange for a better user experience.  Now, you might ask why even bother with any ad revenue at all, as it's typically reviled even its ubiquity.  Before I answer that in full, let's look at a couple of other options.

If I have a subscription base that's sufficiently large that I can reach my financial goals without ads, I'm all for it.  In addition, if I'm able to make that exclusively off a donation-based model without locking people into any subscription model, that's even better.

If I'm able to make enough money through other products (some indispensable app I haven't thought of yet, or, more likely, consulting), then I can give my content away for free, using it, effectively as an advertising vehicle for my business.

But, realistically speaking, if I'm going to make a living primarily off content, I'll need to make some minor compromises.  In the best possible case, that means offering premium content to subscribers that doesn't alienate those who aren't paying for my content.  This may be a bit of an irrational view on my part, but there's nothing more aggravating than having an article pushed to me by my Google feed that I either can't access or that I've inadvertently accepted that counts against my free allotment for the month without having the opportunity to decide whether or not that's the article I actually want to click on.

In my own offering, I'd prefer that potential subscribers know what content is marked premium, so they can make an informed choice without being duped into clicking.

And, when it comes to ads, I'd prefer to limit my readers' exposure and provide them with a positive experience.  I need to pay the bills, but I don't need to do so at the expense of my users.

Which leads me next to starting the journey towards 85,000 users.  Except I've rambled on again, so we'll examine the cost of accumulating followers in the next post.

Until next time, my human and robot friends.