Monday 28 January 2013

Are social networks losing their appeal?



For many, a day isn’t a day without a status update or a new hair cut truly appreciated without an uploaded photo. Facebook is almost universal and the majority of people only know one or two people who don’t have an account.

So the news that Facebook lost 600,000 users in Britain certainly came as a shock – to Facebook at least.

I personally have found my interest in the social network waning. I have come to wonder whether those friends I have on Facebook really are genuine friends. I certainly don’t have them all in my phone book and as for paying a fee to promote a specific post to select friends- I think not.

This month Facebook has added a new search engine to its facilities and enabled calls to be made at the touch of a button – all services that have been around before Facebook came on the scene.

It seems to me that since the social giant became public its appeal has suffered. Maybe fans of the site feel shafted. When Mark Zuckerberg launched his venture it was a simple, no adverts website where people could stay in touch with friends and family. Now, it’s trying to be something it’s not – the Tesco of the social media world - trying to offer everything in one place.

Instagram, the Facebook-owned photo sharing app, has also suffered some fall-out from its users. Panic spread after the app that has 90 million users revised its privacy policy, stating it would be selling users photos to advertisers. Following an unprecedented backlash – a 25% decrease in one week among users - it decided to remove this amendment to its policy.  

Have social websites started to lose their appeal? Or have users become wise to the lack of privacy provided by some of these sites? It’s clear that a business needs to keep up with demands from customers, especially in a fast moving environment where there’s no time for the weak. Either way, Facebook looks to be fighting a losing battle.

By Stephanie Rock

Friday 18 January 2013

New year, new start?





So with January come the dreaded New Year’s resolutions. Up and down the country most people have set themselves something…start a diet, get fitter, stop smoking, drink less… the list goes on. I’ve never been a big fan of New Year’s resolutions. Why all of a sudden, just because it’s January, should I give up my chocolaty treats, join a gym and cut down my drinking? In my opinion it’s the worst month. You end up associating January not only with biting cold, but with post-Christmas guilt and previous years’ failures. I would just be setting myself up to fail.

Instead I urge people to make goals for throughout the year, things that will enhance your life rather than depriving yourself in the most miserable month. In March 2012 I started playing netball, and guess what, nearly a year later I’m part of a regular weekly team. In August, I joined the gym as I wanted to become a better player and now I love my workouts. It’s important to choose things that you want to do rather than the things you think you should do.

My friend is quitting smoking when she turns 25 because that’s when she wants to stop. She’s not jumping on some New Year’s resolution bandwagon; she’s waiting till her birthday. Waiting just four short months will make her, (in my opinion) much more likely to succeed.

January isn’t the only month where we should look to improve ourselves and our lives. Don’t be peer-pressured into New Year’s resolutions, wait till you’re ready. You wouldn’t leave your job just because everyone else did, so why would you make resolutions just because everyone else does. Every day, week, month, year brings an opportunity to make a better you.

By Pema Seely

Friday 11 January 2013

London Underground:150 and still going strong... well almost



Isn’t it funny, that something we moan about on an almost daily basis can suddenly become a cause for celebration?

This week the London underground turned 150, and in an instant we forget all those mornings crammed under a stranger’s armpit, all those evenings squished against wet umbrellas and late nights inhaling someone else’s McDonlad’s. This week, it seems that even us Londoners have ditched our usual cynicism (and reliable topic of morning conversation), to join in nostalgic affection for this British institution.

And why not? After all, since its opening, the London Underground has played a part, not only in our day-to-day lives, but in historic events that have rocked the capital to its core. This week the underground is cause for celebration, but in the past it has provided shelter, spawned love affairs and been the target of one of the most devastating terrorist attacks in recent history.

PR for the London Underground can’t be the easiest of jobs. Maintaining the reputation of a service subject to the whims of out-dated engineering, the British weather and its own temperamental workforce must feel like a thankless task at times. Nevertheless, the British and wider public’s celebration of the London Underground this week, stands as a testament to the success of a relentlessly creative campaign.  

Initiatives such as ‘Art on the Underground’, which continues to involve numerous revered contemporary artists in creating temporary and permanent installations on the network, brightens an otherwise dreary commute. Similarly, the TFL supported ‘Poetry on the Underground’ programme, which displays poems in 3,000 advertising spaces across the underground, provides a welcome break from adverts for match.com and conference call services.

Schemes such as these have elevated the London Underground in the public eye, from a sterile transport system to a symbol of the city’s art and culture. Out of the ten images chosen by The Royal Mail for its commemorative stamps, the majority are reproductions of the posters and artworks that have graced the walls of the network. Now as a PR I may be biased. But if it’s these images (rather than a sweaty armpit or rain outside Walthamstow) that represent our enduring impression of the London Underground, it has to be handed to TFL PR- they’ve done a good job.

By Polly Robinson