If YOU'RE Not the Boss of Me... Who Is?

Last week, blogger Joyce Dierschke asked a not-quite hypothetical question: Do you censor yourself online? Her example, of whether or not she should have re-posted a link to a (biased) political video that she personally found amusing, encapsulates a question we all ask ourselves on a regular basis:

When I'm online, am I allowed to be me?

The answers to the question are (if you ask me) far too complicated, because they can only be revealed by first determining who you are AND what you believe.

Some Things to Consider About Who "You" Are:

Are you a person or an employee?

Are you a brand or an individual?

Are you more concerned about being authentic or about getting paying work?

If a potential client decided they didn't want to work with you because of something you said or did online -- essentially, because of who you are (and the judgment they believe you display) -- would you regret the action in question?

Are you using the internet for communication or self-promotion?

Is your belief system permanent, or does it evolve over time?

Would the person you are today be embarrassed or ashamed of anything you did 10, 5 or even 2 years ago?

Are you steadily advancing toward a specific goal, or are you exploring for the sake of experience?

Do you expect greater integrity from others than you do from yourself?

Does transparency trump ethics?

Forget Big Brother -- EVERYONE'S Watching

Every decision we make online is a personal decision, undertaken privately (or so it seems) yet available publicly to anyone who knows how to look for it. Classic concepts of privacy, identity and "the self" are in flux now due to the web's multiple layers of "personal branding" and anonymity. And while Jonah may have believed that God could see him even when he was inside the whale, Jonah also never had to deal with recruiters scouring his friends' Facebook accounts for all his potentially incriminating kegstand photos.

So before you start censoring (or uncensoring) yourself online, perhaps you should first figure out who YOU are... and who you answer to.

Image by amanky.

How Long Is Your Internet Celebrity Shelf Life?

Remember last year's video for Weezer's "Pork and Beans"? It was filled with all the YouTube stars of the moment.

How many of them are still recognizable today?

Internet fame is fleeting. People become disproportionately famous for (usually) doing something novel or unusual, once. And then they attempt to turn that one-time novelty into a brand. And then they try to get paid for it.

Some Schticks Last Longer than Others

Gary Vee has been successful both promotionally and financially with his Wine Library TV webcast, a gig that's grown beyond the confines of the internet and gotten him invited on The Conan O'Brien Show. Gary's content is primarily information-based, which means it's built to last over time instead of flaming out when he can't think of a better punchline.

In order for Gary to start losing traction, he'd need to be outperformed by a competitor who offers:

* more compelling information
* higher-quality content
* better ease of access, or
* a more widely-embraceable personality

And even if that were to happen, Gary still has one more ace in the hole: he was first. Some fans won't ever migrate away from the pioneer, even if the competition is stronger, because legacy occasionally trumps legitimacy.

How to Avoid Rickrolling Yourself

If you're planning on becoming "internet famous," make sure you're extraordinarily:

* informative (particularly within a scalable niche)
* entertaining (at least to a dedicated audience)
* engaging (because nothing replaces authenticity)
* original (and unlikely to be duplicated)
* available (everywhere), or
* first

Unless you're one of those things, odds are, you'll never become the kind of celebrity whose exploits titillate the rabid throngs. Instead, you might be relegated to the island of one-hit web wonders, where the real estate is cheap and the skyscrapers stretch forever upward...

The Comments Ate My Baby

Some blog posts elicit more comments than others, and when the occasional "hot button" post (or anything on Scobleizer) attracts massive amounts of comments, it gets me thinking...

How many comments is TOO many?

As a Blog Writer...

... I would say "there's no such thing as too many comments," because the more people take the time to respond to something I've made, the more I know I've connected with my audience. (Minus all those people who post comments that add zero value to the conversation and simply act as a free ad for their own URL).

I also enjoy hearing people's differing opinions, or seeing them make additional suggestions that are relevant to the topic at hand. One author can't nail a topic from every angle, so it's great when interested commenters can add depth and breadth to the conversation.

As a Blog Reader...

... I rarely read beyond the first 10 comments on a given post, because so much of it is either empty congratulations or a stock battalion of "yes, but" arguments.

That said, when a topic DOES spur a healthy (or heated) debate, I'll read much further down the comment stream, usually until the sentiments begin rapidly duplicating themselves.

And, as a Commenter...

... I'm more likely to leave a comment on a post if I'm either among the first responders to that post (and, thus, more likely to have my comment read by others) *OR* if I have something to add that I believe is both valid and as-yet unsaid by anyone who's commented before me.

In my opinion, there's no sense in adding yet another voice to a string of comments unless that voice extends the conversation beyond its existing borders. Which is ironic, because as a blog author, I don't mind redundancy in the comment stream; when I'm in that role, every comment carries with it the added value of validation.

So, how do YOU handle (or leave) comments?

Image by lammy.

Who Are You Trying to Impress?

Last night, I saw Harmony Korine's Mister Lonely at the Harris Theater. Afterward, Pittsburgh Filmmakers and the Pittsburgh Downtown Partnership offered free food and drink, intended to spark a post-film discussion among the strangers in attendance. (This is supposed to be a good thing.)

Unfortunately, strangers, bound solely by the shared experience of having just seen the same movie, have nothing else in common yet (that they know of). Result? Out comes the posturing, the pomposity and the need to impress one another with armchair film school dissections of "symbols" and "meaning." (I nearly choked on my stuffed grape leaf -- catered by the inimitable Affogato -- when someone posed the [rhetorical?] question: "Was the pastoral violated?")

In the end, I doubt any friendships were forged from this discussion, but I suspect more than a few people went home worrying, "Did everybody else think I was smart enough?"

Anatomy of a Conversation

When we're thrown together in a pseudo-social situation, the quaint tradition of "breaking the ice" often gives way to the more aggressive method of preening like alpha males / females, meant to establish a social hierarchy we can all understand (and find -- or reject -- our place in).

In every social situation, there seems to be at least one of the following:

* The conversation driver
* The friends of the conversation driver
* The people who WANT to be friends with the conversation driver
* The people who DISAGREE with the conversation driver
* The dropouts who eat the free food and make snide comments in the background

(Hint: this last group is almost always the most interesting group, due possibly to the fact that they're coincidentally the most impossible to actually meet.)

This conversation rarely has the opportunity to become inclusive because it automatically becomes a pitched battle between two (or more) speakers vying to establish that their opinion is the "right" one (at least for the duration of this situation).

If that's the case, why bother speaking at all, if the only reason to get involved is to try and out-shout the opposition? Wouldn't a lot more be accomplished -- and more bonds between conversationalists be created -- if we all agreed that the perfunctory building of these walls was a waste of time?

Your Comfortability Makes Me Uncomfortable

Not everyone is so eager to let their wall down. Some people enjoy that distance because it keeps them from getting too attached, or seeming like they're too interested, or too available. They need to impress others before they can take their wall down, and convince themselves that they have "the upper hand" in the conversation.

If you see this type of behavior encroaching on your social interactions, whether online or in person, why not try one of the following:

* Agree to Disagree. Table the contentious issue for the moment, and then actively find a point on which each side can agree. Knowing that each side's disagreement stems from a common starting point can reduce the sense of "The Other" that often fuels the need to establish conversational dominance, and instead replaces it with a simple curiosity about how each side arrived where it is now.

* Agree... For Now. Maybe you still disagree with the other person(s), but you're astute enough to realize that endlessly arguing about details isn't going to move the conversation forward to a deeper, more engaging state. So agree with the other side, for now. Admit that you may not have all the facts, or that the other person might (gasp) actually be "right." A concession isn't a defeat; it's simply a way to pause the invective, which can disarm a conversational "opponent" and provide an opportunity to move the conversation ahead to new topics.

(PS: If you temporarily agree with someone else, you owe it to yourself to follow up afterward and see if their argument actually does hold water. You may be surprised to find it does.)

* Volunteer to Be the Underdog. Often, contentious conversations are all about establishing a social pecking order. The other side doesn't even care if they're right or wrong, so much as they desire to be seen as the dominant voice in the conversation. In that case, let them be it. NOT needing to appear "perfect" can immediately nullify the race to build artifice, and win you some subconscious respect in the process. Suddenly, the race to build higher walls is replaced by the race to dig deeper moats, inviting more and more people to get closer, and closing the gap of The Other that makes getting to meet new people -- and caring about them -- so damn hard in the first place.

This doesn't mean you need to divulge a laundry list of All The Horrible Shit That's Ever Happened to You. No one loves a self-flagellator, but everyone appreciates a person who can honorably assess his/her own shortcomings, even as they're content in their strengths. That's called "being a real person," and it's a much better way to create a meaningful conversation than endless ideological pissing contests.

(And, for the record: no, the pastoral was not disturbed, because there was no pastoral in the first place. But Samantha Morton does one hell of a good American accent, and those stuffed grape leaves were fabulous. I would have mentioned that during the post-film discussion, but I was too busy eating the free food and making snide comments in the background.)

Looking Toward Pittsburgh's Political Future

The best comment I've read (thus far) about the future of Pittsburgh's political situation came from a comment on The Burgh Report, from a commenter named "hatesyinzers":

I don't see any potential Democrat knocking off Ravenstahl in 2009 despite his "weak" showing yesterday. The Yinzers love Ravenstahl's anti-intellectualism, brazen arrogance and sense of entitlement, meaningless boosterism and lack of ethics. He will grow stronger over the next two years... the Yinzers will love him more and more for every scandal and ethics violation he is involved in... he has the mayor's office as long as he wants it...

I'd like to say I disagree, but the sad truth (as near as I can see it) is:

* Pittsburgh is in the throes of the ineffectual, old boy-network Democratic machine

* Ravenstahl is a very young cog in that machine, with years and years of political rewards ahead of him as long as he supports traditional cronyism

* The average voter is chronically unable to understand the issues and therefore votes based upon preconceived notions of party or personality

* A Republican (or any non-Democratic) mayor in Pittsburgh will probably never happen in my lifetime

In short, the Pittsburgh mayoral election is a snapshot of the pointlessness of the current political system in America. Shall we explode the two-party system and force people to run on their own merit (and individual fundraising ability -- or in a fundraising-free system)? I'd love to; wake me up when that's a possibility.

Meanwhile... did anyone else write in Mathis 4 Mayor?

Are You a Person or a Brand?

An hour ago, Chris Brogan made the following comment, via Twitter:

Clarity of message is worth more than you know. One topic. Go deep. One topic.

When I debated that point, Chris clarified his reasoning:

[S]imple branding. If you come to me and tell me 41 things, I'll remember 3, if any.

Fair enough. The web is an information orgy, after all.

But I think these statements raise a major issue regarding how we conduct ourselves online, what we expect of each other and what exactly we are.

The Problem of Complexity

With so much information (and so many people) sprawling across the web, there's a temptation to force people to summarize their very essence into 15 second pitches.

The upside? The web becomes more easily navigable.

The downside? Each of us becomes far more limited and replaceable.

If you read this blog because you're interested in my opinions, or because you know me personally, then you view me as a person.

If you read this blog strictly because you're interested in social media, then you see me as a brand --- one of many within your realm of information consumption.

I believe I can be both, depending upon my audience. But Chris's comments seem to question whether we can truly have it both ways, especially when we need to make snap decisions about whom to listen to or what actions to take.

So, to be blunt: Are we individuals or are we brands?

The difference (as I see it):

A person...

* Is multifaceted in interests and abilities
* Is frequently scattered and unable to focus
* Stretches limited resources across multiple channels
* Can be contradictory
* Can make mistakes
* Isn't easily summarized
* Has opinions
* Offends 50% of the populace with those opinions
* Requires a steeper learning curve
* Can evolve without needing permission

A brand...

* Is instantly recognizable
* Is best served when narrowly focused
* Can conquer small markets, then expand
* Often weakens as it expands
* Cares fiercely about "message" and "image"
* Must chart a course and follow through
* Changes slowly and uniformly
* Sees the world in black and white
* Can transcend self-defined borders
* Powers an agenda

Why Does It Matter?

Under these conditions, we have two options when "living" online:

* We can be individuals -- free to dabble, experiment, make mistakes and allow for complexities and contradictions...

* Or we can be brands -- restricted in breadth but limitless in depth, iconic, reductive, and easily replaceable.

Each has their pros and cons, but neither is perfect:

* One seems fickle, the other finite.

* One is unclear and prone to failure due to diffusion of message and purpose...

* The other is constricted and struggles to maintain relevance against faster competitors.

What Should YOU Do?

Obviously, that's up to you. Perhaps you even feel you have the freedom to switch between "personhood" and "brandhood," depending upon your audience. (Google might beg to differ...)

However, this differentiation has consequences. It can help you decide things as complicated or mundane as:

* Your screen-name
* Your signature
* What information you decide to make public
* What outside information is "important" to you
* WHO is "important" to you
* WHY you use the web
* When to speak and when to remain silent
* If you use email, or Twitter, or a blog
* If you need a MySpace or Facebook account

Etc., etc., etc.

On one hand, I worry that a web filled with people is too complex to amount to anything more than a headache of contradictions.

On the other, I suspect a web filled with brands would be a soulless and disposable sphere devoid of meaningful interaction.

And yet... to move forward, don't we need some of each?

What are YOU?

Why Twitter Scares People

Some people claim to fear Twitter (and social media in general) because of its seeming captivity at the hands of the inane. They worry that our culture is being hijacked by the mouth-breathers and the endlessly self-fascinated, and they refuse to give in to the urge to tumble into their own navels.

Fair enough.

But an equally large portion of the populace are petrified of Twitter for its disarming ability to cut through the BS and the way it encourages its users to remove their veils. Its 140 character limit is challenging, not just because it enforces brevity, but because it robs many of us of the flowery contexts we've come to rely on in blogs, or podcasts, or other social networking tools.

On Twitter, we have to be blunt. We have to be relevant. But most of all, we have to be ourselves.

And that's when people panic.

Not everyone, obviously, or the site wouldn't be growing at the rate it is. But, now that it's entering its 3rd or 4th iteration of acceptance, and ebbing further and further into the mainstream, it brings with it a host of new users who believe these highly-targeted opt-in services are their ticket to insta-marketing dominance.

Boy, Are They Wrong.

Whenever someone "follows" me on Twitter, I check their profile to see if it's someone I'd like to follow back. I read their most recent page of posts. If those posts are all links to their blog (or someone else's), I ignore them.

Why? Because Twitter leaves the power of the conversation in my hands -- and why would I want to voluntarily be talked at by a company while I'm otherwise engaged in useful conversation?

Likewise, the people who mistake Twitter for an invitation to repost their RSS feed, or to make PR-tinged statements designed to lure people to their own website, are missing the point. Instead of proving their merit through legitimate dialogue and adding value to the ongoing discussion, they believe disrupting that very discussion with a personal announcement -- essentially, an ad amidst the content -- will somehow be well-received by the participants.

How ludicrous.

Ask yourself this: who's more likely to get your business as a wedding photographer -- the person who takes great photos, is courteous and witty when approached, and engages you in conversation near the open bar, or the person who usurps the microphone during the best man's toast to remind the guests that she offers discounts on bulk prints?

Like social media in general, Twitter is all about personality. If you don't have one, don't bother.

I'm a Hypocrite

In yesterday's post about The Negative Drain, I essentially said two things:

1. Your bad day doesn't matter, and

2. There IS no "good" or "bad" -- life basically boils down to perspective.

I also said I have trouble empathizing with people, especially when they fail to realize that their problems are primarily the result of their own actions. Thus, I despise the Negative Drain effect of people crying "woe is me" in an effort to draw attention to themselves, because it derails both THEIR forward momentum AND mine.

Some folks agreed with me. Some disagreed. But no one else thought to call me a hypocrite except longtime STBD fan Andrew Smith, who made the point on BOTH of my blogs.

Here, he commented:

‘Woe-Is-Me’ could be a wonderful title for that classification of blog entry in which I might place most of the ‘inability to manage time’, ‘get things done’, or ‘financial difficulties’ posts.

(In case you're new, those are topics that bubble up quite often here at Cafe Witness...)

Then, on the STBD Blog, when I mentioned we'd fallen behind on production due to my tendency to hit the metaphorical snooze alarm, Andrew wrote:

...or call it 'woe-is-me'. Justin, I'm not trying to beat up on you here, but for you cast's sake and for that of your art, please forget where the snooze button is. I've been a volunteer for the greater portion of my working life. Take their time seriously. It isn't really free. They sacrifice for what they care about.

I think it's pretty clear that Andrew is trying to be proactive here, which I appreciate. Which is why, instead of sitting here and attempting to defend myself, or debating the points he raised, I won't. Instead, I'll make a proclamation:

September is "No Woe" Month (for me, at least).

What does that mean?

- No blog posts or Twitters of a negative nature. (That includes irony, since I mentioned yesterday that irony is a great way to couch frustration.)

- No blog posts or Twitters about time management, getting things done or personal finance -- since, to offer suggestions for improvement, I'd have to first acknowledge that I sometimes have these problems myself.

- No blog posts or Twitters about bad news, be it mine or the world at large's.

- No COMMENTS about other people's problems. To acknowledge them is to delve into The Negative Drain, and hence risk hypocrisy.

- Not saying "I can't," because that implies an inability to succeed. Instead, I'll be using "I won't," which implies a conscious choice over which I have full control. (AKA, "I won't be going to PodCamp Philly next week, because I've chosen to work on STBD production instead.")

What's the Point?

The point is, Andrew's right: I can't claim to not care about other people's problems and then pretend that mine are worth talking about.

Beyond that, I'm interested to see if this woe-free experiment improves my productivity and general attitude.

My Predictions?

In actuality, here's what I suspect will happen:

- I'll become quite disenfranchised from everyone for the next 30 days.

- I'll get a LOT of work done.

- I may find something else to write about on this blog, since all traditional topics will be taboo.

- I just might end up happier... or I might go crazy with no ironic outlet.

However, one thing you can count on: I won't be a shiny, happy person every day. It isn't in my makeup. To paraphrase, if I've nothing positive to say, I'll say nothing at all.

And if I do have problems? Fear not; you'll not hear about them. (That's what friends and family are for.)

So: who's with me on "No Woe" Month?

The Negative Drain

I have to be honest with you: I have trouble empathizing with people.

It's not because I don't care when bad things happen. It's because, by and large, the things that happen aren't "bad" or "good" -- they're just things -- and what determines their effect in our lives is how we react to them.

I make mistakes. I indulge in self-sabotage. I frequently make decisions I'm fairly certain are not optimal. And, when it comes time to pay the price, I expect no sympathy from other people because, let's be honest, I brought that complication / conundrum / failure upon myself.

Thus, when YOU do the same thing, it's hard for me to feel especially bad for you. After all, it's not like you didn't have options.

What This Has to Do With Social Media

We're all connected, now more than ever, as we forge our way through each day. We all know that life moves fast, and we only have so much time to achieve our dreams. So, ideally, we help push each other forward -- or at least we get out of each other's ways.

More often than not, our success in life is based upon two principles: perseverance and momentum. Few are the mountains that are conquered without the aid of one or the other; we call those "hills."

So when we're sifting through our millions of media impressions each day, you know what ISN'T helping us achieve our dreams?

The Negative Drain.

That's the stray "woe is me" Twitter / email / blog post / news article / ABC News exclusive that distracts our inner momentum and derails our perseverance. It forces us to stop moving forward and address someone else's -- or our own -- need to wallow in self-pity.

In short, it's not helping anyone.

Why Your Bad Day Doesn't Matter

You bad day isn't a bad day: it's just a day. You happened to be in a bad mood. Therefore, that neutral day registers as a bad day in your mind.

You now have two choices:

A) Suck it up, fix it and get on with your life.

B) Alert the world to your misfortune in the hopes of generating sympathy.*

How often we allow ourselves to indulge in B directly affects our own momentum and perseverance. Ironically, it also affects everyone else's.

How many times has this happened to you: while scrolling through everyone's recent messages on Twitter, following all the project updates, useful questions, cries for tech help and neverending inside jokes -- WHAM! -- someone is having a bad day. In fact, their day is SO bad, they had to Twitter it.

Their day was SO BAD, they had to announce it to the world, in the hopes that the world would somehow intervene and make everything okay.

Goodbye, momentum.

The Negative Drain Exception

As humans, we're great at realizing when we're getting screwed by the world at large. And, inevitably, we need to vent about it or we'll snap.

In order to vent without losing momentum, we've developed a useful tool called "irony." Thanks to irony, the clever among us can point out the ills of the world without falling prey to the lure of self-pity.

Sometimes, it's even funny.

Believe me, there's a BIG difference between people who cry out to the world for sympathy and people who laugh their way through a bad day.

The ones laughing are the ones you'll meet on the other side of the mountain.

* Admittedly, there are times when we, as humans, also NEED sympathy. Sometimes, life seems unbearably cruel, and irony isn't enough to weather the storm. Sometimes, we actually NEED someone else -- or a whole world of someones -- to help us through.

The problem is, in our increasingly self-focused world, where everything that happens to us is mistaken for news, the line between "inconvenience" and "life-changing tragedy" is becoming highly subjective. Where we once expected sympathy for the loss of a loved one, some of us now expect the same for the loss of some stored data on a hard drive.

Meanwhile, one friend of mine is currently navigating some serious family misfortune. If anyone I know deserves sympathy, or at least the right to vent about life, it's her. And yet, she's consistently one of the sunniest people I know. In fact, SHE tends to buoy MY spirits, even though her "bad" days FAR outweigh mine.

In the end...

...there is no good and bad. There's just perspective.

Onward and upward.

Mirror Thinking

Esalen's Law: You will always teach others what you most need to learn yourself.

The Corollary: You are your own worst student.

So many of us in the social media sphere seem very passionate about "empowering the community," "continuing the conversation," and generally improving the way we interpret and utilize our lives.

But what are we teaching ourselves in all this?

What is the crux of what you create? What do you blog about most? What are you most passionate about?

Are you good at it?

Could you be better?

How many of your lessons, imparted upon the masses, could be put to even better use if you adopted them yourself?

Nothing specifically prompted this line of thinking from me. (Actually, I found the above quote in a book yesterday, but it wasn't spurred by anyone in particular, so fear not.) But it did resonate within.

Are we all kidding ourselves into believing we're making a difference by nudging each other along while we neglect what it is we, ourselves, truly want?

How Much Is Your Reputation Worth?

Until last week, Billy Donovan was the head coach of the University of Florida men's basketball team. He'd just coached the team to two consecutive NCAA Championships, something that hadn't been done in 16 years. He was on top of the world.

He signed a huge contract extension with Florida. He was set for life.

Then, last week, he changed his mind and accepted the head coaching job with the NBA's Orlando Magic. Sources claimed he'd always been interested in making the jump from college to the pros, and that this represented the best opportunity -- a 2-time champion, at his peak, leaving to coach a team located near his family? What better situation could he ask for?

Staying put, apparently, because it's being reported today that Donovan has changed his mind again and will remain at the University of Florida after all.

In addition to the financial repercussions of such "decision-making" -- some sources are claiming Donovan had already signed his contract with the Magic, which means this about-face will likely cost him millions of dollars in breach-of-contract payouts -- the past week has also turned Donovan into possibly the least trustworthy coach in sports.

How does someone manage to go from the absolute top of his profession to a punchline in only 7 days? Simple: He didn't think about his reputation.

If you thought war hero John Kerry was a flip-flopper, how do you explain the prerogative of a man who signs (or doesn't sign, depending on the source) various contracts, only to leapfrog from one to the other when the situation becomes too complicated?

How do you expect the athletes he's hired to coach -- at any level -- to take a word he says seriously? Or his employers, who must now perpetually believe Donovan is one bad weekend away from quitting on a contract?

I'm sure we're not hearing the whole story -- we never do, in these cases -- but the circumstantial evidence has mounted to make EVERYONE in this situation look, to one degree or another, like a fool. And none moreso than Donovan, whose sterling reputation is now permanently warped.

How Does This Apply to You?

Whether you're a freelancer, a social media creator, a boss or an employee, you operate under agreements and deadlines. You have clients and audiences that expect you to deliver on those promises.

Even if you've never signed a contract or issued a mandate, the people you work with / for still have developed a perception of who you are based upon your past behavior.

EVERY CHOICE YOU MAKE IMPACTS HOW YOU'RE PERCEIVED BY THE WORLD.

(It also impacts how you see yourself too.)

If you say your next podcast will be up on Monday and it isn't, you can't complain that your audience didn't come back a day later to see if you'd caught up.

If you tell a client the project will be ready for review by Wednesday and it isn't, you can't blame them for not wanting to work with you again.

People in every walk of life complain that they work themselves to the bone every day for no reward, while others are able to skate by on reputation alone. This is partially true. But the bigger picture is that the people "skating by" are actually doing just as much work, if not more: not only did they have to work themselves to the bone to reach the level of success they've attained, but now they have to maintain their reputations.

Next time Billy Donovan signs a contract, the other party will know the piece of paper is worthless.

Next time you tell someone you'll "have it done by Friday," will they believe you?

Should they?