Dear Amy: LinkedIn Connection
Today's Dear Amy is a submitted question from Randy Milanovic (who gave me permission to use his name). It's a bit longer and more involved than my questions to date, but hit home because I've seen this behavior many times before.
Dear Amy:Two days ago, I had a lengthy dialog with a very prominent social media blogger.He was vetting my application to be a long-term monthly guest blogger on his site (volunteer role).During our chat, he made it clear (stressed actually) that only THE top person in the category would be considered, and asked if I believed I was the best of all. Truth is, I didn't. I'm learning every day from others, so would never think that I was the best ever. (Plus, I'm Canadian.)At the end of the chat, I withdrew my application - mainly because the dialogue left me feeling that maybe I didn't have the chops yet to be on his level - and partially because I felt a little talked down to. I offered to instead become a subscriber.Today, I reached out to him to connect in LinkedIn. In response, I received 7-page form letter outlining all the reasons I should connect with him on other social accounts, subscribe to his blog or ask him to speak (for a fee if course).In the form letter were 27 (yes, 27!) links to his content and books, and most of his content began with "I am", "My" or "I just".I was a little shocked. He didn't ask a single thing about me, he obviously didn't recognize me or remember our earlier dialogue.So I'm wondering... what might be an appropriate response to that form letter and the way I was treated?Randy
Dear Randy:I wish I could say that this story surprised and shocked me and I’d never experienced or seen anything like this before.Well, I could say that, but I’d be lying.I’m not sure if you’re going to like my answer to your question, but here it is: There is no “appropriate” response. This is a person who appears to care only what others can do for him, and if you can’t follow him everywhere, subscribe to his blog, pay him to speak or otherwise proclaim to the heavens how fabulous he is, he really doesn’t have a use for you.This is a common disease among the prominent – not limited to Social Media, by any means. Some of these people are actually good-hearted, but have been blinded by their level of celebrity. Some are just very cold and calculating and have put on a face for the world to see, but emails such as this show some of the cracks in the façade.
It is extremely tempting, of course, to want to respond and take this person to task. But ask yourself first: What will that achieve?
You might feel better for a moment. Then you might be worried that this person and his supporters will lash out at you for being rude. I’ve seen it happen.I’m not trying to scare you off from responding, but rather think about what your goal would be in doing so.Do you want to show this person the error of his ways? It’s highly doubtful that he will read your email, no matter how eloquently expressed, and suddenly realize that he’s been selfish and boorish and should really change his behavior.Do you want to let this person know your feelings have been hurt? I’ve seen too many situations where a simple (and polite) response has been transformed into something hateful and venomous. He could take phrases and excerpts from your email and twist them into phrasing that sounds horribly rude or jealous.This person most likely has a standard response he cut and pastes into every LinkedIn connection request he gets. The possible exception is if he deems someone as particularly high-profile and worthy, that he may have an edited version he sends to them. But the chance that when he (or very likely an assistant) read your name, he actually stopped to think, “Hmm. That name sounds familiar, I should look her up before I respond,” is pretty much 0%.It may surprise you that many people who are “prominent” in social media do not practice what they preach. Perhaps they did at some point, but now they’re so famous (again, like in any other field), they don’t have to “engage” with their followers or “be authentic.” They expect that people will just want to circle around them and bask in their social media glory.This is not true of everyone, of course. But your LinkedIn correspondent appears likely to be among them.If you feel you simply must respond, this is what I’d recommend:“Thanks for your email, Prominent Blogger. Thanks for taking the time to speak with me the other day about guest-posting on your blog.”Yep. That’s it. Don’t address anything else he wrote.Instead, this is what you can take away from the entire experience:You are not the first person he’s done this to and you’re not going to be the last. Most other people are going to be as taken aback as you are. Eventually, that will come back around to bite him in the butt.What does make social media different from most other fields is that there’s only so long you can keep up appearances. Eventually, people see through the fakers, because the fakers show their colors.What he did was a huge breach of #SMEtiquette. Heck, it was a huge breach of etiquette, period. He was selfish, rude and dismissive. So dismiss him. Maybe you unfollow him on the networks you follow him on if you want. When you’re asked to list your favorite social media bloggers, don’t include him. He hasn’t earned your follow or your praise.
I often talk about the unfollow as the nuclear option in social media, but that’s really only where friends and family are concerned. When it’s someone you were following because you found them interesting, and you no longer do, well, it’s time to say good-bye.
People are forever saying, “Social media isn’t about you, it’s about your followers.” That’s what the bigwigs (and smallwigs, for that matter) tell their clients. But when it comes to themselves, they don’t always follow the same advice. They’d be well-served to take a page from their own playbooks and just thank someone for a LinkedIn connection, rather than tell this person all the reasons to follow them everywhere on the web.I don’t know if I’ve answered your question to your satisfaction, as I’m encouraging you to just let it go, but sometimes silence speaks volumes.P.S.: Oh, Canada!