Structured Blogging and the Pull-and-Pay Dilemma

I guess it was yesterday that Marc Canter dropped the newest, shiniest version of the Structured Blogging initiative. For anyone that's not aware, Structured Blogging is essentially an effort to make blog data (reviews, events, etc.) more machine-readable, and, presumably, more human-readable as well. The approach is to deliver a customized posting experience on the server side and microformat-enabled output on the display side. OK. Fine. I've commented on this already.

Reactions have varied. There was great praise for this from a number of different parties (naturally, many serve to benefit from this). Of course, though, there were many rejections and questions as well. These were far more interesting, IMHO.

On the one hand, Stowe raises a question about the psychology of the blogger, recognizing that part of the treasure of blogging is that it is indeed "Messy, Messy, Messy":

But I don't buy it, as I said in this recent post (see Microformats v Structured Blogging: A Small War With Big Consequences ). My bet is that Structured Blogging will fail, not because people wouldn't like some of the consequences -- such as an easy way to compare blog posts about concrete things like record reviews, and so on -- but because of the inherent, and wonderful messiness of the world of blogging.

Because blog posts don't have to conform to any structural standards, they can be used to do anything: nothing is out of bounds, because we haven't created the boundaries. The messiness of the world we are living in is one of the reasons that it is such a rich and rewarding experience.

Source: GetReal, "Structured Blogging versus Messy, Messy, Messy"

I largely agree with Stowe. Of course, I know Stowe really well. He's definitely more of a hacker type than I am. I tend to prefer the strucutre, often wishing I had better templates for my blogging needs. I think there's room for the structured approach, especially if I value the results of having my data ready in this format and prepped to be sent out into the ether and discovered by people in far off lands (ok maybe not).

However, the much more interesting gripe that I have followed relating to this announcement (and it's not a new gripe, in fact it's been given new attention since the whole Web 2 Dot Oh No thing started) is that the consumers want their paycheck, heck they deserve it. This line of reasoning rightly stems from the simple fact that, although we are the consumers, we are more so the publishers in this new arrangement. The value of structured blogging is seemingly unfairly weighted in the direction of those with the means and intentions of aggregating that data together to create a collection that has value in excess of the individual nuggets.

Pete commented on this:

But, like Greg Yardley, I want to know "Where the money is?" If pubsub or other Broadband Mechanic's customers like GoingOn are going to be making cash (somehow) by aggregating my content, I want a piece of it.

And I don't think that's paranoid, Biatch. That's called getting a paycheck for the value you bring to the table. I think the companies behind this are certainly aware of what's in it for them, if they can get a bunch of bloggers to start adding structure to posts. But, sales training always taught me to start with the value to the customer (and the distributor). In this case, someone like Myspace, Typepad or Blogger would be the distributor and the rest of us lowly users are the customer. How do they and we benefit?

Source: pc4media, "Structured Blogging is Finally Here. Who will Benefit?"

And just what did Greg Yardley say, well, it's a gem:

“Profiting off user-generated content is Web 2.0 colonialism.”* ... Which is what irks me. Structured user-generated content, especially aggregated reviews, is very valuable. Case in point - the del.icio.us purchase. Since del.icio.us’ functionality is easily replicable, the deal was all about the value of user-generated content. You’d think with content being worth so much, the Structured Blogging initiative would contain a way for the content providers to indicate, in a machine-readable fashion, just how they would like to be reimbursed for the commercial use of the content they’re providing. Not so - at least not anywhere I can see.

Source: yardley.ca, "Structured blogging as Web 2.0 colonialism"

So where does this leave us? Well, we know three things. First, we're doing all the work. Second, we stand to be leveraged to the hilt. Third, our payment is soft (traffic, recognition, warm-and-fuzzy feelings, Google-derivatives). What we don't know is 1) how much we really deserve from the aggregator (if anything) and 2) how we should receive that payment. I affectionately refer to this as the Pul-and-Pay Dilemma.

Some of the vendors will claim that they actually don't do anything with your content except expand the audience and match it to the right people. Fair enough. Of course, they derive value from having large databases and the ability to access that data in ways that we don't necessarily see. Still, the exchange seems pretty even, until someone makes a lot of money. We only worry about these things when they are compared or when they offend. For example, we notice the joy of using a tool like delicious. Delicious gets bought - it was because of us right? Now, some porn site comes along and starts aggregating our content as well. Suddenly, we're not warm and fuzzy, we're madder than hell. Why? We're offended. We're pissed when Flickr gets bought for tens of millions, not because they don't "deserve it" - it's because there's a number for us to appreciate. Or do we?

The thing that sticks in my head more than anything, are all the exceptions to this rule. Let's think about TV. NBC spent $10M to film an episode of Friends. They sold $30M in advertising during that show. That's something like $20M in profit. That value exists ONLY because we're watching the damned show. Where's my check? How come I never asked for one then?

Here's another example. Google's been indexing the living heck out of everything and anything that we do. They made literally billions (via Adwords) off our work. It took them years before they gave us a way to get some back (AdSense). Were we complaining then? Were we excluding them from indexing our site because we weren't compensated? I wasn't. Were you?

Update: Thanks for Pete for forcing me to end this properly:

The first point is that we are indeed entitled, seemingly, to some portion of that profit. In the case of of Friends, I think the audience is the a critical part of the show, beyond simply the actors and production value. I was trying to say that we never got paid for watching.

The second point is that I wonder just how many people are thinking about this, i.e. how many will want more beyond the simple soft exchange (the entertainment value, knowledge, recognition, exposure). My reason for point out the examples was to show that we've seemingly not been too concerned since the reward seemed like enough.

The real challenge, now, is like negotiating partnership agreements. They always tend to suck and someone feels a little cheated when it's done. There are ways to create systems to figure out the value. For example, Squidoo's Lens Rank is an interesting concept and applies the principle well. Of course, Squidoo has quite humble intentions as well - is that true for most sites? The investment is significant to build out an infrastructure to actually reward those that are generating revenue. And there's a lot of metrics and data points that need to be involved in that process.

Parallel to those developments, of course, has to be a similar development path that allows for better creating a Distributed Creative Bureau for the web that allows me to "own" the things I make in a more substantial manner and that can indeed establish a toll-system of sorts by which these aggregators become resellers of your information, agents if you will, and that makes it quick, simple, and precise the methods by which pricing is attributed and collected.

Are we more connected to this now simply because we're directly authoring it? What about the whole Attention Trust thing? In theory, because I continue to breathe I am creating more and more value. I read just today Steve Gillmor's post "Now that we've got your attention". He says I'm paying with my Attention. The truth? I've always been paying with my attention. It's only cuz we've got a fancy new sticker (it used to be called satisfaction, loyalty, value), that suddenly the whole world looks different. For me, the fight is KEEPING someone's attention, not just getting it.

OK enough ranting :)