Why Francis Bacon would never be on Facebook

“Champagne for my real friends, real pain for my sham friends” is a dictum widely attributed to the  20th century artist Francis Bacon, although its origins have been traced to the  late 1800’s. Whatever its provenance, Bacon is known to have used the phrase frequently in the company of friends and hangers-on in the pubs and clubs of London’s Soho district. It was a sort of rallying cry when he was buying drinks for his companions – some of whom were close friends, others were mere acquaintances, associates, groupies and antagonists.

Bacon died in 1992, but even if he was alive today, I doubt he would have used Facebook. Not because he was out of touch with popular culture (the collection of source material from his studio attests to his artistic interest in photography, sport, film, magazines, advertising etc.). No, his antipathy to Facebook and other social media would be based on the inability to distinguish between “real” and  “sham” friends. Facebook may allow users to categorize “friends” as Close Friends, Family, Acquaintances, but this is mostly about levels of sharing and frequency of updates; it does not really allow for more subtle categorisation reflecting the different types and varied nature of relationships we have with our professional and personal contacts; nor does it allow us to distinguish between sub-categories (e.g., “friends I’m willing to have dinner with”, “cinema friends”, “family we visit for the holidays”, “Friday night drinks colleagues”, “clients to invite to the cricket” etc.)

The Internet in general (and social media in particular) is a great leveller, but has the capacity to reduce all our real-world relationships to a homogenous mass of digital contacts. 

“Status Update = No Change” is valuable information….

The internet’s voracious appetite for content demands constant new “stuff”, and the hunger for status updates in social media apps means that we are constantly feeding the beast. But the frequency and nature of information updates should be relevant to our audience, appropriate to the content and suitable to its purpose.

Even when there is little of substance to say about our quotidian activities, we feel compelled to offer half-baked, homespun homilies as an indication of our “status”, or as ultimate proof of our existence. Just because the technology enables us to record our lives nanosecond by nanosecond, it doesn’t mean we should be broadcasting everything (and nothing) that happens.

A while back, I was working with a client to develop an information updating service for banking regulations. Our challenge was two-fold:

1. Some regulations changed frequently (but irregularly), and some rarely changed (if at all)

2. Subscribers expected regular updates linked to a fixed publishing schedule (even if there was nothing new to report)

How could we manage the subscribers’ expectations, and maintain a credible updating service?

As it happens, in addition to being a bank regulator, my client also held a private pilot’s license. He subscribed to a service that provided the latest maps and information on flight paths to numerous small airfields. For him, sometimes the most important and valuable information was knowing that there was “no change” at the airfield he was flying to, so he didn’t have to amend his navigation charts prior to his journey, as he knew he always had the latest information.

Our solution for the banking regulations? Publish substantive content updates (including “no change” confirmations) each quarter, with interim news bulletins as and when required. When contemplating how much and how often to communicate with your audience, sometimes letting them know that there is “no change” can be valuable information in itself.