Imagine you went to a concert, but instead of there being a headlining performer, everyone was there to perform on their own personal stage.

Throughout the venue, there are thousands of mini-stages with microphones, lighting set-ups, and a multi-media backdrops to give a complete, professional presence for each performer.

Everyone files in.  The energy and hum of the crowd electrify the air.  Then the house lights dim.  Time for the show to start.

The performers take their mics.  A surge of anticipation unites the crowd.  The concert irrupts into life.

Thousands of people sing their own song, centered on their own stage, each hoping that everyone else is paying attention to their talents.

You’re your audience…

It would be a laughable vision if it wasn’t so discombobulating.  Of course the mayhem of the scene would make the concert an impossibility.  Yet this very scene plays out online everyday.

Today people have the tools to publish and present their lives, interests, and connections in ways that only a few years ago weren’t possible.  We each have a stage to perform for as big an audience as we can muster.

Social media platforms, blogs, music curatation, YouTube, podcasts, and more allow us to tell our ongoing story.   Businesses create thought leadership, build tribes, communicate on niche topics, and publish material with a presentation worthy of a major newspaper.

Yet we’ve moved to a world, ironically, where newspapers are going under, their support undercut by the plethora of free, self-publishing platforms running online.

GoPro No Pro

I met an energetic you guy who was proud of the snowboarding/biking/outdoor videos he shot on his GoPro.  He spoke at length about the time he put into shooting and editing his content.

At one point I innocently asked who watched his videos.  He looked at me, perplexed.

“Do you shoot them for your family, or do you have some kind of audience you’re trying to reach?  Why do you shoot these videos?”

Now he looked insulted.  He fidgeted.  “Well, you know, I just do it, you know, to watch them.”

I gave a “I sorta get it, oh I see” non-commital head nod.

He walked away without saying a word.

Center Stage

Imagine your stage.  You close your eyes, take a deep breath, prepare for the performance of your life. You’re centered:  you know your voice is special, wonderful, and deserves to be listened to.

The concert rolls into action.  You sing deep, emotive, powerful.  You picture yourself – you are the idol at the center of your world.

After a song or two, you stop, listen.  Everyone’s belting out their Aretha Franklin, certain the audience is enthralled.  But nobody can hear anything because everyone’s singing at the same time.

You take another breath, decide to keep singing anyway – maybe a few people might pay attention.

Then in the distance, you see someone familiar.  It’s Josh Groban…wow, what’s he singing?

But you can’t even hear his voice.  Only voices, each a diva on its own stage.  A powerful, glossy stage that looks professional in every way.

All the world’s a stage,

And all the men and women merely players;

They have their exits and their entrances,

And one man in his time plays many parts…

In the digital world, we share our “many parts” in ways Shakespeare couldn’t have imagined.  Writing today, he may have said:

Some are born great, 

some achieve greatness, 

and some “thrust their greatness upon us”. 

Today, all the world – literally – is a digital stage.  But with so many amplified voices, the real leaders, the center stage, can be difficult to find.