Dopp Juice Archive

Michelle (that’s all I know of her identity) just sent me a direct email responding to my recent post about the SXSW web awards. She writes:

Hi Sarah,I’m sorry that you were so disappointed with the Web Awards. I just wanted to clear some things up with you that you were confused about regarding the website, the judging, etc.I’m a SXSW veteran and know the process of this stuff. There are a TON of websites who voluntarily enter themselves to be judged. They are then judged by an array of geeks in the Interactive field. And thousands of people vote on the People’s Choice Award (obviously).Ze Frank is the host of “The Show” his sarcastic attitude is part of his personality on his extremely successful video blog. My advice would be to do your homework next time.Cheers!

Thank you, Michelle. That was a clear rebuttal and some useful clarification to a few of my points, and I appreciate you taking the time to write it. If Ze Frank has a reputation for being sarcastic, and the pre-hype involves participating in the People’s Choice voting online, then that explains some of the atmosphere of the night.

While the “do your homework next time” comment came across as condescending, I’m not going to argue the point: I didn’t do my homework. I didn’t read about the finalists two months in advance, and I didn’t vote online. I could have been a far more supportive community member, a successful networker, and a representative of our Web 2.0 values if I had invested time in the award’s ceremony in advance. No argument there.

Here’s my primary concern, though: was getting involved in advance intended to be a prerequisite for enjoying the award’s ceremony? Based on what you’ve said in your email, it seems to me that it was.And my secondary concern: how many other SXSW attendees didn’t get involved in advance? I want to reiterate that by the lack of applause and the fact that Ze, himself, seemed unfamiliar with the finalists, I can guess it wasn’t just me.

But most importantly, what I want to know is this: Did you enjoy the awards? Did you sense enthusiasm and camaraderie in the audience? Did you feel like it addressed and represented our community?

I’ve already told you that I didn’t.

But I’ve also told you that I do appreciate the purpose. And now that you’ve educated me somewhat on the process, I can appreciate that, too. What embarrassed me was the delivery of the awards. I believe it could have been dramatically improved simply by adding a two-line story about each finalist. What features set them apart from the other sites on the web? How did they triumph? Why do people care? We could have pulled the audience in and set them whispering to their neighbors, “Oh yeah! Did you see that one? That was awesome how they ____!” Or even just, “Wow, I wasn’t aware that that website managed to ______ so effectively. I need to tell ____ about that one…” Cheers! Applause!

Another thing that could have been improved: the presentation screen. We showed a screenshot of the homepage for each website. But our websites this year were a dynamic lot with plenty of interaction and animation. Why can’t we display a cool screen cam of each site performing its art? What does it do? Why is it cool? Why is it winning for its category?

We have stories to tell about our achievements, and we’re proud of them. Our awards ceremony is an opportunity to share our greatest stories and applaud them as a community. Why can’t we embrace our interactive narrative and create an experience that we can be proud of? What we did on Sunday was nothing but a collection of bulleted lists highlighted with superficial bells and whistles.

And that is so Web 1.0.

While taking some websurfing chilltime from the SXSW conference extravaganzas, I ran across the following picture taken of me by Magic Safire at the Web 2.2 Unconference…

And really, I think it pretty much sums up my presence at these conferences, for better or worse.

Quick anecdote: Min Jung Kim was stepping out of the ladies’ room at the Web 2.2 when I jumped in front of her and tried to “Ooga booga!” accost her with the finger puppets. She looked at me like I had nine heads.

I did.

I was embarrassed for our industry last night. Maybe it was because I hadn’t dressed up pretty or researched Ze Frank, the emcee, in advance. I wasn’t pre-psyched-up when I walked into the room, and that, surely, had something to do with my attitude. So with that disclaimer in place, let me now announce my obnoxious opinion: The SXSW 10th Annual Web Awards sucked.

Here’s the thing. There were more new cool websites created in the last year than you, or me, or any self-respecting techie had a chance to check out. Moreover, we’re in such a super-saturated atmosphere of self-promoting competition that even if we did check them out, chances are we didn’t get too involved with them. They were made for the public, the teens, the families, the businessfolk, the non-techies. Not for us. Well, okay, a few were made for us. Twitter, for example. And we cheered for those. Sort of. More accurately, we laughed at them and at ourselves, because let’s face it, this industry is pretty absurd. And if nothing else, that was the point that was made last night.

Ze Frank was funny — I’ll give him that. But he was also sarcastic and negative, and he had to remind us to clap. Repeatedly. It was obvious that he didn’t know who most of the finalists were, and he found numerous ways to make fun of our geek culture… but the pathetic part was that he was right on. By the lack of applause and enthusiasm in the room, you knew that most of us didn’t know who most of the finalists were, either; we were providing great material for his industry-deprecating comments. A quick two-line mission statement of each finalist would have gotten us involved in the competitive aspect, but instead we were just given names (see my NameDropping 2.0 post… I’ve got lots more to say on this issue).

To top it off, the whole thing felt entirely arbitrary. We heard nothing about the qualifications of the judges (except that they purportedly “have no friends”) or what criteria the winners were chosen on. No one talked about the process, the purpose, or the point.

We’re not Hollywood. We don’t have a cohesive industry that viscerally experiences the breadth of our colleagues creations. We’re not glamourous; we’re geeks. We get excited about what’s been built for us, and we like to talk about how we’re changing the world. Panel discussions inspire us and parties connect us, but hollywoood-style awards just make us look lame.

I appreciate the gesture — we’re banning together as an industry and putting forth our standards for excellence by recognizing our successful members. This goal is important, and I’m not knocking it. But let’s embrace our culture and develop an awards ceremony that works for us. One in which we can be positive and excited — not one in which we realize how amazingly pathetic we look in direct comparison to the Oscars.