Comic Relief is a charity that raises truly impressive sums of money for a variety of excellent causes. Each appeal is assisted by famous performers throwing themselves enthusiastically into raising funds. This year Comic Relief has had a new idea. Many celebrities have twitter accounts. They have many followers. Some of those followers might be persuaded to bid large sums of money in return for … well in turn for the celebrity following the bidder. It is being organised through ebay. One participating celebrity is John Prescott. If you place the highest bid he offers what is known as a “super-follow”. What is a superfollow? The answer is set out in the description of the item you are bidding for:
The ‘Super-Follow’ means that John will do ALL of these things…
1. Follow you on Twitter for 90 days
2. Retweet one of your tweets
3. Send out a tweet including your Twitter @username
You may immediately think this is a brilliant idea. In which case read no further and go off and bid. When you are outbid donate the money another way.
Lots of people have thought it is a terrible idea. Somewhat to my own surprise, I agree with them. Since many a pained celebrity has asked rhetorically “why the upset?” I thought I would try to explain. The problem is one of tone and, ultimately, status. Being famous confers a status on you. I have no doubt most celebrities would vigorously deny that they believe they are “worth” more than any one else. Many, perhaps most, such denials would be entirely sincere. However, the fact is that if you are consistently treated as if you have a special value or status it takes a strong conscience and personality not to start believing it.
In the UK we like our celebrities to at least feign humility. Considerable approbation is available for just doing ordinary things; “He takes the bus! They knit their own jumpers! I said hello and he said hello back! She likes cheese on toast!” Our interest and admiration confer the status and the recipients are required to keep persuading us that it has not gone to their heads.
Before the rise of the social networks the average person’s chances of having their path cross with that of a celebrity were very limited. Interaction would likely be limited to a few seconds strained conversation or an autograph request. Even those micro-bursts of contact would be used to assess a “down to earth” score: “I asked for an autograph and he mumbled something about needing to get to hospital – the bastard”. What makes twitter fascinating is that the possibility of interaction has increased dramatically. For the famous who have grasped the power of the medium it has been a great way to demonstrate to people that all the respect and regard has not gone to their head thereby, perversely, generating still more of both.
Some things don’t work. If you have your PR agency write your tweets, expect disdain. That is not “down to Earth”. If your tweets consist entirely of entreaties to buy your record or watch your programme, expect disdain. If you take the time occasionally to read what is sent to you and compose a reply, you can expect to see your follower numbers tick up at an accelerated rate. That figure, the number of followers, has a power of its own. Who wouldn’t prefer to be in a pitch meeting saying “I have a million followers on twitter – you can be sure people will be interested in the project I am pitching. The buzz will generate itself.” The simple act of engaging with followers in a suitably straightforward way turns followers into advocates and evangelists.
The twist is that despite the fact that we like celebrities to deal with us as if all were equality, there is a thrill associated with having someone with a million followers choose our message to retweet. If they decide to follow us that means that from the dizzying number of those who bombard them with half-formed thoughts they have identified us as consistently interesting enough to be worth that tiny commitment. For many on Twitter, that possibility of direct access to those they admire and the presumed (even if illusory) closing of the status gap, is part of what makes Twitter special. It is against that background that the tone of the bid for “super-follow” has to be judged. What Lord Prescott’s offering implies is:
“In the interests of charity I am prepared to put in the 20 odd seconds of effort that the ‘super-follow’ requires. For 90 days I will give the impression that you are interesting enough to follow. I will take something you have said and retweet it thereby giving the impression I thought it was interesting. Because I have many followers some of my status will be conferred on you. The same result may be expected as a result of me including your twitter handle in a message. However, none of this is genuine. It is an inconvenience to me that I am willing to undertake in the interests of helping others.”
Put another way, what it is does, in the most patronising imaginable way, is to take the very status gap that Twitter is commonly supposed to have eroded and to rub our noses in it. I don’t want someone to pretend to be interested in me for money even if charity does benefit.
On the other hand, you could take the opportunity to tweet absolute bollocks for 90 days- including rants about what a twazzer Prezza is… And leave him with no choice but to see it all and RT something of it.
Unfortunately, having read the small print, no I couldn’t. I have bid instead on: http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=300535240627&category=88433&_trksid=p5197.c0.m619#ht_500wt_1156
I can see what you’re saying about the ‘Super Follow’, but if I’d won the lottery I’d be bidding like crazy for dinner & booze with Sue Perkins. There are some other good ones as well. A day at the races with Clare Balding, Restaurant visit for a review with Giles Coren. Have a mooch through and I reckon you’ll see a couple that you’d like. I suspect twitter is just the way that the auction is being sold/publicised.
Personally I’d prefer a raffle then I could take part.
I do, perhaps inconsistently, have less problem with the “spend the day with” offerings and concentrated deliberately on the so-called “superfollows”.
I think we are well used to the “paying for access” charity auction. I wouldn’t want to do it myself, but it does not normally involve any kind of feigned friendship or regard. The nature of the transaction is perfectly clear.
Since Twitter is a tool for real interaction it offers something different but #twitrelief hoses away the very thing that makes Twitter special – that possibility of genuine engagement – and replaces it with another opportunity for transactional contact dressed up as friendship or regard.
Prescott? Shurely shome mishtake. Prescott = SuperTwatter.
This is fascinating. I think you’ve brilliantly captured what many people are feeling about #twitrelief, but I can’t find it in me to feel the same way. I like it!
I have to admit, I generally find the forced jollity of these national charity events incredibly annoying (though I do recognise it as a necessary part of getting critical mass – part of what makes Comic Relief successful is that it taps into the part of the British collective psyche that hates being seen as a party-pooper). So I’m not naturally minded to like #twitrelief.
But this is about twitter, not Comic Relief, isn’t it? As you say, you feel differently about the offline equivalent of a paid follow. “Bid for a date with [insert sleb name here]” is a lot in pretty much every charity auction.
So why is twitter different? The main message I get from this, and from other negative views on this subject, is, “I wouldn’t pay for it”. As it were. But what makes a follow so special that someone can’t twist the idea a bit for a bit of fun and a charity drive?
The main thing I can’t agree with in the above is that “#twitrelief hoses away the very thing that makes Twitter special – that possibility of genuine engagement – and replaces it with another opportunity for transactional contact dressed up as friendship or regard” I don’t think this little stunt can or will change the nature of relationships on twitter a jot, any more than any other dumb stunt someone tries there. Twitter is bigger than that. And I don’t think anyone will confuse a “super follow” – which is clearly artificial – with the real thing.
I guess I’m finding it hard to see any purity in a Twitter follow. One of the things I love about the channel is that it is pretty coarse and debased already. That’s part of it’s rakish charm. It’s wonderful when you earn and get a follow from someone you admire. I’m thrilled that I’m being followed by at least one personal hero, Ben Watt, but that wouldn’t stop me bidding for his missus, Tracey Thorn, or her “extra”: – a signed gold disc – had I the money. Which I don’t.
#twitrelief is, I think, inventive and fascinating. I’m enjoying watching it unfold just as I enjoy watching any twitter event.
I especially like Emma Kennedy’s offer of a “live follow” (ie she will follow the winning bidder in real life for an hour). And this inventiveness is paying off, as she’s well ahead in the bidding. Even the very famous people who are only offering a follow on Twitter are well behind.
Anyway, part of my fascination in this thing has been trying to understand why people are so anti; and you’ve helped me understand – so thanks for that!
Channel 4 news is offering a visit to the set on a day of filming, Krishnan’s tie and – bah – a retweet. I don’t think that’s a bad offer. Plus c4 news have a lot of interaction with their followers on Twitter.
Matt It may well be that I’m wrong about how special Twitter is. I hope I’m not, because if it what I want it to be, it would be a great thing. If not, it’s just more of the same in a different medium. That may be the inevitable end. When I was on Cix back in the day, the talk was of an internet community. Places like San Francisco’s “The Well” were an inspiration. There was talk of new forms of collaboration and interaction. Now my Mum’s on Facebook and that spirit has gone. I miss it.
I am presently getting regular tweets from @giagia (Prof Brian Cox’s wife) telling me, in effect, that I’m a tosser. She wanted me to understand that because I have fewer followers on twitter than Stephen Fry that I am “A LOT less ‘powerful’ on Twitter” than he is. That is undoubtedly true but I am not really sure what point she is making.
I realise that it’s easy to use complaints about how funds are raised as an excuse not to give. That’s why I’m presently top bidder on this alternative #twitrelief: http://goo.gl/AKsZw.
Oink – A visit to C4 news does sound like fun. You could use the opportunity to ask why Jon Snow thinks he appears to be worth less than half a follow from KGM. It’s the “superfollow” bit I object to.
An update on the bizarre exchange with @giagia: In the hope of bringing an end to the increasingly weird exchange of tweets I made her a proposal. If she sponsored me for the Milan Marathon with £500 of her own money, I would match it with a donation to Comic Relief. Disappointingly, rather than accept she now tells me she is “done”.
I think it has been poorly conceived, but not malevolently. Its the perks that are selling. Twitter is the medium. Amateurish grappling at new media. Lessons will be learnt. Most importantly, richo’s will buy each other and I will observe with fascination. Xxxxxx
Of all the celebs taking part in Twitrelief why single Brian Cox out to dump on? It wouldn’t be to increase your viewing stats, would it? After all, he does have a lot of fans.
I think it’s only fair to Gia Milinovich to point out that you rattled her cage first by taking a gratuitous slice at Brian. So you sparked those regular tweets from her yourself, but neglect to mention this. And you certainly kept the “increasingly weird exchange” going from your end, which you now claim you hoped to end.
Your whole article just strikes me a something of a straw target, and you seem to merely be looking for something to find fault with for the sake of it. I can’t see what problem you have with Twitrelief except that it compares unfavourably in your mind with your own project. Which is quite an admirable one and I wish you every success with it. But Twitrelief is doing some good too. What on earth is wrong with that? Your arguments are not convincing as real reasons.
So why the need to diss celebs just because they are celebs? And put manipulative pressure on their wives to pay your cause £500? It’s cheap behaviour. It IS a dandy attention-getter, though.
Ides, I don’t know whether you just want to tell me off and are asking rhetorical questions or whether you want answers. If the former, you are welcome to disapprove of me. If the latter I have set out some answers below, which you should feel free to read or ignore at your own preference.
I mentioned Brian Cox because, at the time I tweeted he was, so far as I could tell, the most recent person to be added to the list. That is actually plain on the face of the tweet:
“Mystifyingly upset by #twitrelief. Caused me to blog: http://bit.ly/h0Xuc9 and to lose a little respect for heroes. latest : @ProfBrianCox”
I describe him as a hero for whom I have lost a little respect. I am not sure “gratuitous slice” is a fair description of the sentiment I expressed but I accept it’s a matter of opinion. My working assumption was that he could probably bear the pain of small decrease in my adulation.
I have no reason to find fault with the twitrelief idea for the sake of it. I support Comic Relief both in principle and in practice. I think it is entirely admirable. The reaction I experienced was genuine. It took me by surprise – I have said so in terms in the article.
Since you say that you can’t see what my problem is with twitrelief, I’ll have another go at explaining,this time using an analogy: Imagine your are an unpopular kid at school. The alpha-pupil comes over to you at lunchbreak and says “I’ve decided to raise some money for charity. What I’m prepared to do, in return for your donation, is to pretend to be your friend for a bit. It’ll be for a strictly limited period of course.” You could react one of two ways to that proposal. You might think “Hey, charity benefits and I get to hang out with the cool kids” or you might think “Sod off. I have some self-respect”.
I’m in the latter camp. I don’t think the deal reflects well on anyone and I don’t think that charity benefiting makes everything ok. It would seem that you don’t either since you refer to me putting “manipulative pressure on [gia] to pay [my] cause £500.” and you describe it as “cheap behaviour”. Had she taken me up on my offer UK charities would have been £1000 better off. If fund-raising was really all that mattered (which was her position) you (and she) should heartily approve.
I’m not sure why you say I “claimed” I wanted to bring the exchange to an end. She sent me a rude tweet. I sent her an even ruder one back. I thought better of it and apologised. She did not accept my apology and decided to tell me off some more. Her last messages to me were coming through on a day on which (as you’ll see from my most recent post) I had better things to be doing.
As to your suggestion that my offer was an “attention-getter”, since you would have to follow both of us to have read the exchange (or else have gone looking for it) had she simply accepted my offer no-one else would likely have known about it. That would represent a pretty ineffective attention-grabbing strategy.