Following trends

At some point, everyone has fallen victim to some obnoxious, sophomoric, fleeting trend that makes you question your sanity. I hear my parents reminisce and joke about my mother’s teased, frizzy, bullet-proof (thanks to gallons of hairspray) hair style or my father’s blindingly white Miami Vice suit.

But, I have to admit, the fad I fell for is even a little more embarrassing than these: Pokémon cards. I’m sure that I’m not alone; I’m sure many of you collected these pliable pieces of paper with nothing more than a few words of print and a small image of imaginary creatures.

Pokémon cards were first introduced to the American public in 1998, when I was in third grade. A few boys in my class of approximately 30 kids were flaunting their “collectable” cards, while the girls just stared, dumbfounded as to how and why these simple bits of cardboard could be so mesmerizing and engaging.

Well, it took about a day before my naive little friends and I turned from bewildered skeptics into admiring addicts. After reading “The Tipping Point,” I have pieced together some clues that may have contributed to my metamorphosis, even though I found most of Malcolm Gladwell’s examples evident.

Gladwell describes the tipping point as an instant when a trend crosses a threshold and explodes virally. Ideas, messages and social behaviors disperse just like viruses do. Viruses initially spread through a population somewhat slowly until a tipping point is reached, and they erupt into an epidemic. Gladwell uses this model and applies it to social trends, fads and phenomena and finds commonalities among them. Just as someone with the chicken pox can infect an entire fourth-grade classroom, so can a trend soar overnight.

And that’s just what happened in my Pokémon example. A couple of people were playing with their cards, and the next day, everyone had a stack.

How exactly did this happen? By applying some of Gladwell’s principles, we can trace the evolution of Pokémon’s popularity in my classroom. Gladwell employs some axioms including the Law of the Few, the Stickiness Factor and the Power of Context to explain how trends take off.

The Law of the Few discusses three types of people who are responsible for helping to launch a fad. These include Connectors: sociable people with ties to many other people, Mavens: knowledgeable people with expertise, and Salesmen: enthusiastic and charismatic people who can persuade your buying decision. In my scenario, the boys in my class acted as connectors and mavens helping to usher me into their trend. If they weren’t very cordial or friendly to me when they explained their cards, then I wouldn’t have bothered. And the same applies to if they were uninformed or ignorant about the games or cards they were playing with. If they didn’t fulfill either of these roles, then I know I really would not have bothered. But the fact that they extended themselves warmly and were eager to share their extensive knowledge about the cards made all the difference. This concept seems pretty apparent to me. Obviously a sociable, expert or persuasive person is helpful and responsible to promoting ideas or products.

Next, Gladwell addresses the Stickiness Factor, which refers to the tinkering of the presentation of a product, idea or behavior, which allows the trend to adhere to the public and become memorable. There is something about the way a trend is packaged and presented that makes it “irresistible.” This assumption seems somewhat obvious. Of course you’re going to fine tune your product to make it unusual or different if you want people to buy it. In this case, I suppose he’s right. I never collected cards before, and the holographic images of the cute and pink Jigglypuff were unlike anything I really had, at the time. It was packaged and presented to appeal to girls as well. Cards in the past, at least in my opinion, were more targeted and geared to sports fans. The cards must have been experimented with and structured to attract a wider audience.

Gladwell then acknowledges the Power of Context, which essentially states that we are influenced by our environment and peer pressure. There’s a lot of psychology in this section, but its basic argument is applicable to my study of trends. Gladwell argues that a few small changes in the environment of New York City decreased the crime rate. Simple changes such as painting over graffiti and repairing broken windows made a huge impact. The environment changed and so did the crime trends. In my scenario, when my environment changed and everyone started buying and trading Pokémon cards, I, influenced by my peers, began to participate. The people didn’t change, but the topic of their conversation did, so I had to adjust and make small changes (buying the cards) in order to fit in with my surrounding environment. Again, this is pretty obvious. When the people and circumstances change around you, you are more compelled to adjust to fit those changes.

Gladwell also discusses the size of social groups and the Dunbar number. He claims that groups containing less than 150 people are usually more successful and efficient. I do agree with this statement, as my class was far less than 150 people. However, how this number was calculated is very confusing: the ratio of the size of our neocortex to the size of our brain. All of these psychology terms and jargon further separate me from Gladwell’s argument, and it’s just hard to apply to my everyday life. Yes, his main claim, but the steps that get him there are baffling. And what about larger online groups? Should we discount them and their effect just because they are larger than 150 people? There is valuable information and connections that are established online daily. I just do not agree that there is a set limit of people who can successfully interact among each other especially since this number, to me, was determined in such confusing terms.

Overall, this book opened some insight into how I momentarily became a fan of Pokémon cards, and Gladwell’s analysis and principles are interesting and thought-provoking. However, many of his points are either obvious or just confusing and unfounded. His claims did open my mind about how trends spread and evolve through a population. But, the most important conclusion I came to after reading “The Tipping Point” and what I just wrote above is that some trends explode because sometimes we just want to belong to a group, and we can identify with something in that trend. In this case, I think I just wanted to feel part of the new conversation that was sparking over these cards, and I needed them to participate in that conversation. Sometimes a trend tunes into our inner need to belong. And once we finally do belong, that trend doesn’t seem so relevant anymore. That’s why I no longer go out of my way to buy Pokémon cards anymore. Pokémon cards opened dialogue among my classmates, and we all became closer as we bonded over these cutouts of cardboard. Trends are just the starting off point to connecting with people. If we see someone with the same shoes or jacket, we are more inclined to reach out and connect. Kids in my class with Pokémon cards were unified and were able to communicate and bond.

How we form our "groups"

I’ve never really cooked -- well, anything edible that wouldn’t give my diners food poisoning. The first time I ever tried cooking pasta, I dumped a pound of pasta with some water (without boiling the water first) and left it on the stove for almost an hour. Besides almost causing a mushroom cloud in the kitchen, the pasta didn’t taste too good.

People often find this very ironic, considering I’m Italian, and my father has owned a restaurant for more years than I’ve been alive. Everyone in my family can cook: my parents, grandparents, brother, and even my younger cousins who are still in middle school.

I guess I always somewhat felt left out, like I couldn’t relate to them on some superficial level by exchanging recipes or sharing their culinary secrets. Obviously, this is my family, so it really never mattered if I could cook, or not, to fit in. But, for some odd reason, I constantly felt like an outsider, especially in a room full of Italians who pride themselves in their homemade fare, which stems from generations and centuries of tradition.

Well, sick of wilted, frozen vegetables; watery, mushy, microwaved pasta; and this outsider feeling, I decided I’d get the courage to combat upscale cuisine in the kitchen.

Now, what does this have to do with “Here Comes Everybody”?

According to Clay Shirky, new social tools and the Internet encourage and open group conversation. With cheaper and more easily accessible online and technological tools, groups can assemble from all around the country and world without the limits of time and cost. The Internet and other technology have allowed niches of people to organize themselves and make things happen that could have never happened before. Shirky maintains that there has been a developing transition from hierarchical, highly-organized associations to informal partnerships supported by social networking resources.

“Ridiculously easy group-forming matters because the desire to be part of a group that shares, cooperates, or acts in concert is a basic human instinct that has always been constrained by transaction costs. Now that group-forming has gone from hard to ridiculously easy, we are seeing an explosion of experiments with new groups and new kinds of groups,” (54).

Yes, being a part of a group is a “basic human instinct.” And, the Internet has facilitated and helped fulfill that innate, human desire to be a part of something bigger. I know that I am a part of my family for many reasons, but by cooking, I hoped to establish another connection and network bringing more people closer together, including my neighbors and friends. Besides engaging my family in my journey, I also hoped to involve others as well.

Thanks to a simple recipe from foodnetwork.com (macaroni and cheese), a fully functioning kitchen and appliances, and relatively inexpensive ingredients, preparing a palatable plate didn’t seem so entirely daunting.

In total, my ingredients cost less than $20. Already, I was feeling confident in my choice because if I messed this one up, like my first attempt with pasta, then at least I didn’t go bankrupt in the process. The cheap, easy-to-find ingredients motivated me in my quest to share more commonalities and partake in my family’s “group” of expert, experienced chefs. Like my readily available ingredients from Wegman’s, easily accessible online tools allow people to find and establish their groups on the web. More people from different backgrounds and walks of life can now participate in online groups, leading to not only new groups, but a lot of new groups and more kinds of groups.

And finally the actual cooking began. I boiled the water, put in the pasta, melted some butter, and combined the cheese and milk. After incorporating my ingredients and baking for a few minutes, I was extremely shocked not only to see my finished product didn’t burn down the kitchen and send the firefighters breaking down our front door, but that it actually looked delicious. I couldn’t believe how easy it was for me to transform from a just a consumer to a producer as well. Advanced technology is breaking down barriers for me to learn to cook and for people to correspond and connect with each other via the Internet.

Just like building an organization is much easier and efficient when its members can instantly access a website or communicate with each other through e-mail, so too is cooking when presented with the right tools and ingredients. And the result, establishing and fulfilling this basic human instinct, is more easily accomplished with the appropriate devices, whether it be a whisk or e-mail. Each situation requires different means to carry out its purpose. Cooking did for me what the Internet has done for groups all around the world and all around the clock. It instantly brought them together and filled their natural desire to create human connections with others.

After sharing my experience with parents, they instantly began sharing when and how they learned to cook. I no longer felt like a dependent because we were breaking down our once hierarchical system in which my parents filled their roles as executive chefs, my brother as the sous chef and me as the diner. But now, thanks to technology and the Internet, this new chain of command is slowly blurring and interacting with other levels. There is no one solitary elite, we now all share and collaborate.

And now, my friends, neighbors and friends of friends have been inspired by my simple dish that they too are starting to cook. I’ve reached out to others and shared with them my experience, encouraging them to try something different and out of their complacency.

“Here Comes Everybody” is more than using the Internet to connect with people, it’s about people wanting to connect with people and using the means available to them in order to do so. Yes, the Internet did help me learn to cook (my easy-to-follow recipe), but I went on the Internet on my own accord in order to establish another connection with my family, friends and strangers. Most people want to belong to something, and the Internet is just a relatively inexpensive and quick way for people to find their human associations. After all, it’s the people with whom we establish those bonds, not our monitors or cables.