Opinion
Rise of the Micro-Medici
Maria Popova
Photo: Sten Porse. Source: WikimediaIt's been a polarized year for crowdsourcing. Ever since Jeff Howe coined the term in a 2006
Wired article, cultural buzz about the practice of doling out tasks to large groups of contributors has been on the
rise. But as with any new technology — a word
Kevin Kelly defines as anything useful the human mind makes — we've been feeling our collective way around the concept, empirically honing what it is — and isn’t — good for. Or, as Kelly puts it, we’ve been enlisting a "pro-action approach" that deems the actual use of a technology the only valid litmus test for its worth. Crowdsourcing has proven its utilitarian value in mechanical, information-based jobs like aggregating
crisis information during the Haiti earthquake, pointing local government to
neighborhood concerns that need addressing, or organizing the world's knowledge on Wikipedia.
But it's becoming increasingly evident that what crowdsourcing is not good for is evaluating, or worse yet, generating, creative value.
This, of course, is no grand revelation. Most of the creative community seems to concur. Look no further than the recent Gap logo, the tragicomic crowdsourcing debacle that may just be the
New Coke of our time. Beaten down by public mockery — which ranged from a snarktastic
Twitter feed to a
DIY Gap logo maker that went viral — the iconic retailer retired the offender.
There's a reason why the term "creative vision" is used to describe artistic and conceptual inventiveness. Creativity, particularly as it applies to innovation, requires a point of view. Crowdsourcing, by definition, springs from multiple viewpoints. This fundamental disconnect makes crowdsourcing an absurd tool for producing anything that aims to be original. (Something wryly and humorously addressed by one designer's
open letter to Gap.)
It's a little bit like building a matchstick house – you certainly need all the matchsticks, but without a blueprint, you'd just end up with a pile of incendiary wood.
Crowdsourcing, however, has become valuable for creative projects in a different way. While efforts to tap the wisdom of crowds may fall flat in bringing creative visions to life, tapping the wallets of crowds has been incredibly successful. Microfunding platforms like
Kickstarter, alongside a handful of
copycats and competitors, are liberating innovators everywhere from film to industrial design to programming. Just this month, Scott Wilson funded his
TikTok+LunaTik Multi-Touch Watch Kit concept on Kickstarter, raising a staggering $941,718. His idea — a snap-in design that transforms the iPod Nano into a multifunctional timepiece — had so much merit in the eyes of the microfunding community that it raised 6,827 percent more than the original goal of $15,000.
LoudSauce allows supporters of causes and nonprofits to buy media space to help their message reach a wider audience and facilitate mainstream awareness.
ProFounder enables entrepreneurs to microfund small business ventures;
IndieGoGo does the same for independent filmmakers.
ArtistsShare and
PledgeMusic give artists the means to subsidize tours, shows and installations by sourcing donations directly from fans. Founded by a pair of World Bank and UN Development Fund alums,
Kopernik uses the model to connect innovative humanitarian designs and technologies with the communities that would benefit from them, allowing local organizations to take the fulfillment of their needs into their own hands.
This new kind of patronage is essentially a return to the Medici, only in fragmented form via micropayments. An intelligent evolution of crowdsourcing, it preserves the nucleus of a creative endeavor – its singular point of view – while harnessing collective power to bring it to fruition.
Why does crowdfunding work where crowdsourcing fails? Because ideas are cheap and subjective, and money is expensive and objective. As Clay Shirky puts it in
Cognitive Surplus, "People don't actively want bad design — it's just that most people aren't good designers.” Asking crowd members to put their money behind someone else's creativity does two things: It forces contributors to be more deliberate in their assessment of what constitutes a good idea, and it generates an absolute measure of merit based on the cumulative contributions of individuals.
This in no way perpetuates the myth of the creative genius who arrives at her
Eureka! moment in isolation from the world. (Steven Johnson, in his excellent new book,
Where Good Ideas Come From, makes a compelling case for the combinatorial nature of creativity.) It is, rather, an effort to describe an ecosystem with a division of labor — some create and some enable creation — but where yall parts operate in harmony. In the crowdfunding model, there is a mastermind with a vision and an inspirational force breathing executional feasibility into the product of this singular intelligence. Let the micro-Medici rule.
It's the major corporate players trying to participate in social media, save a buck, hop on the trendwagon, and get free press that's undermining the power of crowdsourcing, as shown by the examples above. Allow me to make my case for crowdsourcing.
Mom-and-pop cupcake shop can't afford the major firms to develop their branding and ad campaign. They're not national and the return on a $10,000 logo just doesn't make sense, whereas a $300 crowdSPRING contest may just do the trick. They may get designs deemed "mediocre" by us elitist designers, but they're good-enough and work's just fine, because in the end it's just how the cupcakes tastes anyway. Before crowdsourcing was invented, the little stores were left to ask their cousin's daughter who knew how to use MS Paint to make the logo for them. I'll take "mediocre" over "blindingly bad" any day. Crowdsourcing is great for small businesses.
Crowdfunding at its current state rallies around the individual and is still yet to be a true community, because of it's tool like function. Threadless who've baked crowdsourcing right into their business plan has taken it to a new level by creating a vibrant community. Creating an online community is a challenge and every marketer's dream/nightmare. Threadless did just that resulting in an annual revenue of $30mil+, 1.5mil+ twitter followers and 220,000 facebook fans. They created a rallying space for comfy cute tshirt lovers. Crowdsourcing can create engaged communities.
Wicked problems are daunting and crowdfunding doesn't have the confidence yet to tackle those problems. Crowdfunding a million dollars to cure cancer, still isn't going to cut it, while using the computational power and the time of a million people, might. Wicked problems are just starting to be attempted in a traditional crowdsourcing fashion at places like OpenIdeo. Though it does fall short in some respects with the above mentioned criticism, the confidence is leading to experimentation and they've done a great job of tweaking the usual crowdsourcing process by inviting experts to synthesize the creative power of many, releasing it back out, and taking it back in, in an iterative cycle. The experts facilitate the crowd to attempt a solution for problems worth solving. I'm also looking very forward to Jane McGonigals' Gameful, who recently presented at TED, which uses game mechanics paired with crowdsourcing to solve the Wicked Problems. Crowdsourcing is mature enough to tackle the big problems of the world.
Crowdsourcing builds a great online environment for collaboration, community awareness and engagement. It may not be the next emerging trend, but it's at a point where it's evolving at a healthy pace. Both conceptual approaches have their own place and will hopefully evolve in their own way into something even more wonderful.
12.23.10 at 11:06