I found myself in an interesting and unexpected position earlier today. I want to talk about this position because it’s important in the context of The Live Web. But first, a little background.
Earlier today, I realized that I’d fallen a bit behind on reading some of my RSS feeds. While I like to pretend that I’m not, I have to admit that I’m a bit of an information junky, so when I realize that I haven’t been reading, I want to catch up quickly. I hit the normal stops- which are mostly personal blogs- before swinging by one of the Social Web’s “watering hole” equivalents. it was there, on Silicon Florist, that I first saw the news about Iterasi’s layoffs.
Now, to say this was stunning to me doesn’t exactly cut it. Rick’s not the kind of blogger that you have to check up on, and yet I was still not sure I wanted to believe what I read. So I jumped immediately to Iterasi’s blog. There it was, in Pete Grillo’s own words:
“As November wore on it became apparent that the economy was not going to snap back in any meaningful way in the near term. Faced with this reality, today at iterasi we took the painful step of reducing our staff.”
And so, earlier today, I found myself in an interesting and unexpected position. I found that I was crying because a company was laying people off.
I read this news with a mixture of surprise and dismay. It hit me harder than I ever thought it would. I actually read the post twice to make sure I wasn’t missing something.
And so, earlier today, I found myself in an interesting and unexpected position. I found that I was crying because a company was laying people off.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I mean, I’m not a complete flake. I mean, I realize that this is crazy. In fact, my eyes were barely past the point of watering when I realized that it was crazy and basically yelled at myself:
“Come on, John. It’s a company. An unknown number of people that you don’t even know got laid off. Big deal! It’s business! You didn’t even cry when your wife got laid off! Freaked out? Yes. Hit the panic button? Yes. Cry? Hell no!”
Because sometimes a company is not just a company. Sometimes, it’s a friend.
Now, I know exactly why this hit me the way it did, but it’s important to discuss. Here’s a company that I have no financial stake in and have never visited. I’m a marginal- at best- user of their product, and I don’t even know anyone who was laid off. For this company that is tangentially related to my life- however brief the emotion was- I would actually shed a tear?
Yes. Why? Because sometimes a company is not just a company. Sometimes, it’s a friend.
I’ve discussed before how both long-form blogging and microblogging can increase a company’s humanity, and I’ve blended most of my writing with quips and anecdotes about how it’s the relationship that matters. The recent economic downturn has made even me realize how true that is.
It meant something when Vidoop had to lay people off. Why? Because many people in the PNW followed their progress “On The Oregon Trail.” We thought of them not as a company, but as people. As friends we hadn’t met yet. Hell, some people even tried to see them on the road as they were passing through their town! They weren’t just a company going through a corporate relocation, they were friends that were doing things we were interested in. This is because Vidoop took a step by opening their infrastructure to us. They showed us their humanity. This is one of the great things about the small start-up mentality that I see in this area.
You can quibble about real friendship vs. acquaintenceship all day, but that doesn’t change that fact that I am a person who is looking at a company and considering it a friend.
It’s painful to me that Iterasi has to lay people off. Why? Because I’ve chatted with both Pete and Londa on Twitter. We’ve shared jokes and we’ve met in person, however briefly. In fact, both Pete and Londa came and introduced themselves to me at IgnitePortland. Think about how that makes me feel- as both a person and a user of their product. Two most important people in a company take the time to speak to me- not to sell, but to chat. You ask yourself who’s product I’m going to cross fire to use. You can quibble about real friendship vs. acquaintenceship all day, but that doesn’t change that fact that I am a person who is looking at a company and considering it a friend.
Just incase the last paragraph was too subtle for you, let me say that again: Iterasi is not a company. Iterasi is my friend.
Sit back and think about the power of that statement. I can talk about how much I love my Jetta all damn day.1 Never will I labor under the misapprehension that Volkswagen is “my friend.” I can watch those cute Apple commercials with a smile and happily play on my iPhone, and I will still never consider the possibility that I can sit down to a beer with Steve Jobs. Apple is cool, Apple is hip, and Apple is just a company.
But those are huge corporations. Alright. Pick at random any small corporation that doesn’t have a blog, social connectivity, or the desire to interact with people as people. Any one of them. I’ll wait.
Right. Not a single one. You wouldn’t look at any of them as “your friend.”
But Iterasi connects. Iterasi jokes. Iterasi responds, and therefore Iterasi isn’t just a company. Iterasi might be a project. It might just be a labor of love. It might just be a marketable idea. It might be all of those things, but it’s not just a company.
Allow me to speak recursively and say that if you don’t see the point, then you’re missing the whole point.
You see, when “a company” opens itself up the way Iterasi did, when they invite people to “drop by” the headquarters just to chat, when they respond person to person in daily communication, they cease to be a company and they become people. People work for a company. People own a company. People often even make fun of their own company.
But they are people.
And I (as a user and current or potential customer) relate to people. I want to spend time with people. I can get to know people. I grow attached to people. Soon, those people become my friends.
And I care about my friends.
So Iterasi has to lay off part of its team. I don’t know these team members personally, but I still have enough of a connection that I end up with tears in my eyes at the news. I end up wondering what I can do to help them. I want to help those people that are laid off. I also want to help the company. Even if I can’t really do anything, I end up at least wanting to tell them that I’m thinking of them. I at least want them to know that there are friends out there that wish them the best.
The truth is that I started to wish that I was in Portland so I could stop buy with coffee or cake or just a hello. But I’m not, so I sent a message to them on Twitter telling them that they’re in my thoughts:
And even as I do this, there’s this side of me that thinks “Geez, John. Get a grip. This is a company! It’s not like they’re really your friends.”
I mean, let’s be honest. They may be people, but it’s still a company. They’re just trying to make money, right?
And then it happens. A reply.
And that’s when I realize how true my statements about corporate humanity are. That’s when it hits me. That’s when I started to really take my own posts seriously. Because a person wrote that. A person who called me a friend.
Maybe it’s true. Maybe a company can be my friend.
I care about my friends.