There I was. Standing in line outside some technology industry shin-dig. And it happened.
The guy was looking right at me. I knew I knew him. And by the look on his face I knew that he knew me. But for the life of me I just couldn’t remember his name.
Until recently I’d have to say that this scenario was a truly rare one in my life. “Until recently” being the operative words in that sentence. It would seem that lately it’s all too familiar. I’m not sure whether to chalk it up to the fact that, while still relatively young on the overarching scale of things, I’m not twenty-two; or whether I should blame it on technology.
I’m opting for the latter.
Let’s face it, the ever increasing phalanx of social media tools has changed the equation dramatically. It used to be that other than traditionally famous sorts of folks – actors, politicians and the like – the overwhelming majority of us lived in relative obscurity save for the awareness of our immediate circles.
Not any more.
Whether it’s a good thing or not, (which is topic for a different discussion) anyone can claim to be a minor celebrity. And regardless of the number the sheer fact that people are even paying attention to the minutiae of your life has shifted us in rather dramatic fashion into the realm of personal brand.
The “who” of your persona has become inextricably linked to the “what” and the “how”, and so every move now telegraphs an even deeper message. To that end, beyond the existence of this “brand” is what you do with it and how those actions connect you to others.
What, pray tell, does this have to do with my seeming lack of facial recognition?
Simple.
We are at once more connected yet utterly dissociated from the people around us. No matter how hyper connected we are, we’re still human and that means a finite capacity for absorption. In other words, just because one has several hundred (or several thousand) “friends” on Facebook, doesn’t mean you know more people. In fact, I’d argue that there’s a direct and converse relationship between how many connections you have and how many people you can actually know.
As a result we must be even more diligent about the filtering process we use for selecting connections. In one conversation the other day I was discussing how LinkedIn has become a huge asset in professional endeavors. It’s a superb resource for business development – provided that one has maintained a strong filter on the connections they have. As I only connect to those with whom I have direct and personal experience on LinkedIn, that means when it comes time for me to reach out to someone and request an introduction, I’m reaching out to someone for whom vouching for me is actually possible - because they know me.
Extrapolating from that to the world that is Facebook, I make a point of only connecting to people who I actually know in some fashion. The filter is a bit more lenient there for me – more like a colander than a fine mesh strainer – but there still must be some sort of carbon-based world connection.
And so you would think that in being diligent about filtering these networks that I should be able to make those name/face connections. It certainly does help, but as it turns out it’s just not enough.
Even with stringent criteria for the official connections we have, the experience of the digital realm is that there are so many more faces that are familiar because it’s no longer merely about these physical connections.
It’s now equally as much about things you do online, and more to the point, the things your friends do online since you now see what THEY do and where they go. This extreme exposure runs a collage of faces and names through our awareness every day. (Cathy is now friends with Bob … Cathy wrote a note on Susan’s wall … Cathy commented on John’s comment about Eric’s posted item about Jill’s photo).
I’m reminded of those monogrammed items of which my mother was so fond when I was a kid. My initials and name adorned many a sweater, turtleneck and other such clothing.
I’m thinking it may be time to bring them back.