“There are many ways to identify a bubble. The one I like best is to eyeball the self-importance of its participants and their tendency to congregate in cultish packs; make inflated claims about the revolutionary nature of their ideas; and assume that anyone who criticizes it “doesn’t get it.” — Heidi N. Moore, “We Have a Social Media Bubble,” New York Times

There’s an old saying about how the only people who made real money in the gold rush were the people who sold picks and axes. I’ve heard that claim bandied about by people looking at mommyblogging as a business, and though I’ve always felt there’s a little bit of truth to it, I am hesitant to dismiss the significance and business potential of building a large following online. It seems to me that, if you know what you are doing, anybody can turn a good amount of attention into a profit. It just takes a little ingenuity and talent, and for many people I think there could be a solid future in building that type of business.

That said, it’s getting harder and harder for me to not view the enthusiasm and faith in social media in general as being a reminiscent of an economic bubble. And if social media is susceptible to a bubble, then it seems to me that mommyblogging for cash is in even worse shape, what with the fact that most participants cannot continue in it longer than they have young children about whom to write.

The central argument for social media (in general) being a bubble at present concerns the ridiculously high valuation of a privately funded company that doesn’t disclose financial records (Facebook), and its trickle-down effect on other related social media start-ups that have not demonstrated any value to speak of. That venture capital can be thrown at social media companies left and right, using Facebook as a model for what social media might become, is really familiar: it’s what happened with the dot com bust in the late 1990s. Google emerged from that bubble an extremely powerful and valuable corporation, but many of the others who were strongholds back then are now gone. Who is to say the same thing won’t happen now, with Facebook at the helm and everyone else out of business?

This inevitably makes me think about mommyblogging and its monetization. There are a few entities that have proven track records when it comes to driving commerce, and there are pockets of influence where working with (I think mostly smaller) brands seems to have actually worked for all participants. But for the most part I’m wondering how long this can last — how long can sponsored posts be placed on barely trafficked blogs for pricetags in the thousands of dollars? How long will companies feel they need to pay “ambassadors” for information about what moms like, when they can just collate the information available from the thousands of blogs that are out there already? And how long, most importantly, will companies keep paying “social media consultants” to tell them how to engage with their consumers, particularly once they have figured out the landscape themselves and hired far more proficient people to serve as their in-house social media advisors?

I’ve started to think there might be a little bit too much faith in the traditional means of making money through mommyblogging — sponsored posts, brand ambassadorships, display ads, conference and event View definition in a new window planning — all of these things have a short shelf life and a questionable future for people who are moving into their post-childbearing years. Are you going to be hired as a Lansinoh mom board consultant when your kids are starting to have their own children? It seems unlikely.

I think the only safe way to make a living — using social media or otherwise — is to figure out the thing that you are best at, that nobody else can do, and figure out a way to market it. And the thing about being a mother (or parent) is that it is the opposite of that — it exists as a coveted demographic precisely because nearly everyone (in some shape or form) can do it.

Babble.com is best known in the mommyblogosphere as the purveyor of traffic-grabbing “Best of” lists that crop up every three months and send mommybloggers into a frenzy of retweeted requests for votes. But if the recent rumors coming out of Canadia are accurate (or anything close to it), there will soon be another reason to think of Babble — Her Bad Mother.

Rumors have been going around about Canadian blogger of note Catherine Connors taking a position with Babble.com. Babble Media CEO Rufus Griscom confirmed that Connors is set to join the Babble team, but stated that the specifics of her employment and job title are still being worked out. There has been some talk about the Connors’ position being somehow connected to a sale/acquisition of Connors’ group parenting site, The Bad Moms Club (estimated traffic via Quantcast is 30,000 pageviews per month), by Babble Media. Though Griscom was not able to provide any more details about the partnership between Connors and Babble Media at this time, he stated that this partnership “does not involve the sale of Catherine’s site.”

In order to work with Babble, Connors is reportedly moving her family of four from the Toronto area to New York City. The specifics of the move are unclear, and Connors was unable to be reached for comment on this story. UPDATE: Catherine Connors responded to my email and said the move will take place at the end of the summer, and that she will be able to answer more fully once all of the details of employment are worked out.

Mr. Right-Click and I saw Morgan Spurlock’s The Greatest Movie Ever Sold this weekend, a “documentary” about the practices and procedures governing product placement and sponsorship in movies/entertainment. The premise of the movie is that Spurlock approached the movie with the intent to have the entire thing financed by product placement while keeping the entire process transparent for the audience (FYI: technically, the movie is called POM Presents The Greatest Movie Ever Sold, because POM Pomegranate juice paid $1 million to have naming rights of the movie). It’s a funny movie and though it doesn’t necessarily teach you anything you don’t already know, it does expose the specifics of product placement sausage making in a way that you don’t usually get to see.

The movie reminded me of the product placement experiment I conducted about a year ago on this blog, that ended ultimately with me deciding that product placement does not work for my blog. I am still struggling to articulate the reasons for this, and I think Spurlock comes to a similar conclusion at the end of his project (though it is never explicitly stated). The odd thing about the mechanics of sponsorship in this movie is that while on the one hand I left it feeling like Spurlock might have damaged his brand (however slightly) by making the film (his brand is fairly tied up with integrity View definition in a new window and thumbing his nose at corporate America, so to walk around in a NASCAR-inspired sponsored suit — even tongue-in-cheek — might be something that turns out badly for him), I also left feeling a degree of increased goodwill for the brands who signed on with Spurlock for this movie, because they were willing to take a chance on an unconventional idea/project. For me, I worry that Spurlock comes out of this thing with some of his integrity View definition in a new window compromised (as much as I don’t want that to be the case), whereas the brands are clear winners. That seems wrong to me, but it also is in keeping with what I see happening in blog sponsorship, so I thought I’d try to figure out why. See below.

1. Once you open the door to sponsorship and product placement, you give up a little of the control you have over your content.

Most people who run sponsored campaigns on their blogs will be quick to tell you that they do not change their content in order to do so, and I believe this is absolutely the case usually. The problem is, what happens when you invite a sponsor into the fold is that there are ways they influence you that happen on levels that are almost unintelligible — ways in which they are filtering your creative voice almost without you knowing it. There is a scene in The Greatest Movie Ever Sold in which Spurlock is talking to executives from Ban deodorant (the first sponsor to sign on to the project) and they say they don’t need to influence the content directly, except that they would like to ensure that Ban is not portrayed in a negative light. This seems reasonable, right? Because why would they pay money to have their product portrayed badly? So Spurlock says something like, “Of course not. If you’re paying to be in this movie, I’m going to feel positively toward your brand,” and that makes sense as well. I’m sitting in the audience and I’m thinking, “Wow, *I* feel positively toward Ban deodorant right now because they’re considering this.”

But wait — once Ban signs on you have lost some control already: 1) you have to feature Ban in your movie, and how likely is it that you would ever have done that otherwise?; 2) you cannot do anything with Ban that might be construed as being negative, because that will upset the sponsors, and so you’ve already eliminated a large portion of possibilities because they are not likely to be considered “positive” by the sponsors; and 3) you don’t even WANT to portray them negatively, you’ve decided you like this brand to which you were previously neutral just because they are giving you money. How is that artistic freedom? It’s not, even if it’s just a matter of a small degree of control you’ve given up.

2. Once you open the door to sponsorship and product placement, your opportunities start to increase.

Once Spurlock was able to get one sponsor, opportunities started opening up more easily for him. At one point in the movie, he plays a voicemail message from an agent who wants to put him in a prime project that involves heavy corporate sponsorship — an unsolicited offer with big name stars already attached to it. With getting brands to back you, it seems like the hardest sell is the first one — once you get your foot in the door, the rest come much more easily.

3. Once you open the door to sponsorship and product placement, you start to lose perspective.

The flip side of the increased opportunities is that the line between getting paid and “selling out” starts to get blurrier. Spurlock was shaken by the unsolicited offer because he realized how attractive it sounded to him now, when just a few months before he was inspired to do a whole project based on the sliminess of product placement practices. He states, “How are you supposed to say ‘no’ to that?” when he plays the voicemail message containing the project offer. But a few months before, he would never have considered it in the first place.

4. Brands have more to gain from these partnerships, content creators have the most to lose.

I think that what happens with this stuff is that you go into a movie with low expectations for how a brand is going to come off. Basically, unless they do something egregious, you’re at worst going to feel neutrally for a brand. At best, you might walk away from a product placement feeling better toward a brand: you’re going in at zero, so it takes very little to improve.

But with content creators (filmmakers, bloggers, etc.), we presumably go in with a higher opinion and it takes very little to lower that opinion. Surprisingly little. Does this mean bloggers or filmmakers shouldn’t ever use product placement? I’m not sure — but I do think that they have more to lose than the brands that are paying them.

Hey everybody, we’ve got a new featured blogger ad up and running! Please check out Josie’s ad for Yum Yucky in the sidebar ASAP! If you’d like to participate in the ABDPBT View definition in a new window Featured Bloggers Program, please email me and I’ll put you on the waiting list.