hypocritical : talking the talk without walking the walk

October 09, 2005

Google will know what this headline should be

UPDATE (October 10, 2005): Apparently, I wasn't the only one feeling this way, this past week. Unfortunately, I think this may be a wee bit optimistic in terms of how long it's going to take to get there. (I got the Orwellian reference. I'm not that dense.) Given the leaps Google has been able to make in the past 7 years, this functionality is due sooner than even 2014. Then my advertising dollars are really going to go to work.


ORIGINAL POST

Maybe it was the launch the Google Reader. Maybe it was one too many late night viewings of EPIC 2014. Maybe it was my guilt about not having finished The Search. Whatever it was, I started to think about Google. And think. And think. And I spiraled a bit.

It was kind of like that time I started thinking about all the radiation I absorb on any given day. You know what I mean? I mean there's the sun and radio and TV and cellular and my computer screen and my microwave and my baby monitor and airport x-ray machines and my Bluetooth and my keycard and probably some radioactive isotopes under my house. And who knows what else? All I know is that that's just me. It doesn't even take into account the radioactive jet wash through which I'm walking on a daily basis.

No wonder my blog entries are so disjointed.

Alas, I've slid a bit off topic. But not really. You see, what I'm interested in pursuing in this little entry has to do with radiation, as well. Only this time, I'm talking about the radiation I emit. I'm talking about my clickpaths and usage tracks within the world of Google.

Join me, won't you? It's an average day. I roll out of bed, get ready, roll to work, and plug in. Hello, Google. I begin to radiate:

And that's just me. (And I'm not an especially heavy Google user. I mean, I'm not addicted. I'm more like a Google "party smoker.")

And that's not even mentioning the people who find or interact with me or my name via a Google entity.

Click, click, click.

Our little databases over at Do No Evil, Inc. are gathering a rather detailed portrait of me as a user, from my news tastes, to my RSS feeds, to my email, to who is seeking me, to my blog. And it's not only the things I click. It's the things I don't click. They have both sides. On blogs, especially, they have me coming and going: what I publish and what I read.

And the marketer in me is drooling at the potential of that information. Literally. Even in aggregate the potential of that data is pretty phenomenal. Don't even get me started on individual use patterns.

But the user in me is sweating, just thinking about how many data points Google consumes on any given day.

I'm torn. I mean, I'm like that annoying Mr. Mini Wheat character. (NOTE: I would have linked you to the Kellogg's site, but the whole thing is such a useless piece of marketing drivel that I spared you the time.)

Now, I'm not that intimidated, because the algorithm to comb through my mess of clickpaths and various tools to deliver any truly leading data would be pretty complex. And I'm not really all that convinced that anyone wants to pay that much to develop something of that nature that would allow them to market directly to me.

But somebody might. And if anyone is amassing the brainpower to figure it out, it's that group of kids down there in the Valley.

And one part of me is looking forward to that day. When they've acquired a few more major entities, broadcast networks, and what have you. I'm waiting. Waiting for the day when the ads are actually targeted specifically to me. When the last thing I clicked provides a data point for the next thing I will click. When Google knows more about me and my behavior than even I recognize.

And maybe when they serve up those ads I will buy. And I will be happy. At least -- if they do it correctly -- I won't ever have to see that smug schizophrenic cereal pitchman, Mr. Mini Wheat, ever again.

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Google will know what this headline should be
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