The Good, Bad, and Ugly of Becoming Known Online

We're singing a song that isn't ours. I blame social media.

Experts, entrepreneurs, and creators the world over seem to want to be known online today. Mostly, this manifests as a potent but aimless desire. It's not overly focused, so people run around grabbing at all the tactics, strapping themselves onto the content hamster wheel, churning out yet more "stuff." Because they want to be known.

But what if we could become known for our substance and skip all the hollow gimmicks? What if we could better focus our desire to be known to ensure we make things that truly matter -- instead of just making more?

We need to tweak the lyrics to this song. We're forgetting:

It's not enough to be known. You have to be known for SOMETHING.

Part 1: Isn't It Ironic?

With apologies to Alanis, unlike a black fly in your Chardonnay or ​rai-ee-ain on your wedding day​, it's actually ironic to witness what happens to folks who obsess over being known: they do things that make them harder to know.

They come across as overly generic, if we even notice them at all.

We've witnessed what's happening: the trend-hopping, the algorithm-gaming, the cheats, hacks, and "just do this" advice from stoic-looking avatars on social media, all of which turn into tactics that just feel icky to experience. (Honestly, so much business advice on the internet today has reached a point where folks basically promise you diet pills but in advice form. I hate it.)

Last month, I swapped DMs with a consultant who claimed to help others "go from 0 to 100k email subscribers in 6 months." His profile's background was a photo of him giving a thumbs up next to Gary Vaynerchuk. His social feed was littered with quotes from Elon Musk, Steve Jobs, Jeff Bezos, and plenty business influencers who trade in diet pills-but-advice. Mixed in with these quotes was a recent, excited post about how he'd finally started reading a famous business book. It's a book I credit with launching the Advice Hacks Industrial Complex -- whether or not the author intended it. Any guesses?

The 4-Hour Work Week by good ol' Timmy Ferry.

(Nothing against the guy, but just as GaryVee needs to own up to causing so much DM spam, Tim Ferriss needs to own up to spawning so much overpromised bullshittery among entrepreneurs. Whether or not it was intended, it happened. Whoopies!)

I normally swat away people promising "0 to 100k subscribers in 6 months" like a digital gnat, but I decided to look harder at his one person. Because I do the hard work so you don't have to. Turns out this person had just graduated college last year (finance major) and had zero discoverable articles or newsletters published online. He listed a few clients on his site, none of which had any discernible public audience. (I mean, it's possible they JUST ran newsletters of the 100k subscriber variety? But it seemed, as the kids say, pretty sus.)

Of course, this particular newsletter consultant could have been more than capable of serving his clients well, it's just that ... the ick factor was pretty high. Why? Why was he making such claims and trying to cozy up to these famous personalities so much?

He was cosplaying success.

And why was he doing THAT?

Because he wanted to be known.

When it unfolds inside a corporation, my friend Andy calls this kind of entrepreneurial cosplaying "success theater." You say the right things, project the right things, and share the right ideas (or quotes) to signal to others you are worthy. It's kinda like the hooper at my local basketball court who always shows up in brand new LeBrons and a Nike arm sleeve. He's trying to LOOK the part of a basketball player. But a funny thing happens when we start to play the game: the guy can't play. But playing basketball is what basketball ... is?

Why so much cosplaying? We want to project success. We plead with others: love me. I'm a baller. 0 to 100k in almost no time. We hope this projection of success leads to one desired outcome: becoming known.

I'm the newsletter guy. I'm the growth gal. I am known.

When people let that desire run rampant, unfocused and unchecked, they often resort to tactics that just cause them to blend in.

Now that's ironic.

It's always the same: they're trying to be known by trying to be more visible. The thing is, being known isn't about being visible. It's about something deeper.

Being memorable.

Part 2: Here We Are Now, Entertain Us

Don't feel stupid. It's contagious.

(If you're not loving the '90s music tie-ins, it's okay. We only have one more to go. But it's the most ridiculous of the bunch. Anyway, back to trying to reach influencer nirvana...)

When we want to be known, others influence us and our ideas so much, we can fail to consider how we truly feel about something or what unique style and perspective we can bring to it. It's like we keep hearing others say, "We're here. Impress us. Entertain and educate us. Sing for your supper!"

Maybe we start by looking for generic advice ("What does ONE need to do to be known?") or maybe we worry, "What do OTHERS want me to say?"

But what do YOU have to say? Without your own unique perspective, you're a commodity. You've produced forgettable work and thus blend in. You make it harder on yourself to become known. Fortunately, just by existing as a part of the creative process, you will influence the work somehow. May as well be intentional about it! Sooner or later, your perspective will be evident. I say, let's ensure it's sooner.

When I talk to folks who clearly just want to be "known," they trend-hop. They arbitrage attention. They fall all over themselves to be more visible, but this causes them be less memorable. Their work gives off a familiar smell. It's not teen spirit. (Don't worry, I'm starting to hate me too.) No, it's desperation.

Look, I've been harsh, accusatory even, but I am right there with others. I, too, like being known. Can't you tell by the everything of me?

I stole that joke, hoping you'll like me.

I stole it from John Mulaney. At least twice a week, I think about a ​​bit​​ from his special, Kid Gorgeous At Radio City. It goes like this:

"When my wife walks down the street, she does not give a sh*t about what anyone thinks of her in any situation. She's my hero. When I walk down the street, I need everybody, all day long, to like me so much, it's exhausting. My wife said that walking around with me is like walking around with someone who's running for Mayor of Nothing."

This is my life. My wife, a psychologist and researcher and professor, only cares about a handful of people knowing and trusting her. I care about ... everyone. I like attention. I like being liked. Hell, I need to be liked.

(Please follow my podcast wherever you listen.)

When my wife ends her workday, she tells me about a new study she's leading to find new treatments for anxiety. When I end my workday, I tell her about that one rando online who said that one thing that hurt my feelings (despite 20 others saying something nice).

I'm being dramatic. I know my work matters, but I also sense a slippery slope from producing something singular to producing generic content, all because we think that's what it takes to be known.

Remember: you have to be known for SOMETHING.

That something is your premise. It's the specific, defensible purpose for a project or your brand, pulled from your personal vision for the audience. When your perspective turns into positioning, you've made your premise known to others, and when you consistently explore that premise through your content, they might start to know you for that premise.

Part 3: Oh My God, You're Back Again

Over and over, you show up with a question, a story, an idea about your premise. You act as an explorer more than an expert, and through that consistent exploration, you become synonymous with an idea.

You become known.

As you explore, you develop frameworks and definitions, collect key terms and signature stories. Your premise leads to intellectual property, and you can further strengthen that IP and further cement your ownership publicly but using it to inform your pillar projects: shows, newsletters, books, speeches, guest appearances, products and services, you name it. (​​This is my process, visualized, for how I do this.​.​)

Are you trying to be visible, lurching from one tactic to another? Or are you trying to be memorable, exploring and thus owning a premise?

Are you original? (Yeah.)

Are you the only one? (Yeah.)

Are you sexual? (I maybe shouldn't have gone with this particular Backstreet Boys song here...)

Are you everything they need? You better rock your premise now. (See now it's just corny, Jay. I mean, I could edit this whole section again but... I don't wanna.)

In an effort to become known, people keep joining a chorus of similar voices. It's all very one-note and awful. Sing your own song, my friend. Your premise isn't WHAT you explore. It's HOW you explore it. This gives others a reason WHY they'd care -- and why they'd remember you.

That's how we become known. It's about sticking in their memory, not merely popping up in their feeds. This work isn't about who arrives. It's about who stays. In doing so, we create the perception of ubiquity, because every time they hear or see or say or think something related to your premise, they think about you. But make no mistake: we aren't actually everywhere, doing all the things, in generic, broad fashion. It's just that we staked our claim to a singular idea, developed actively over time, pressed through our perspectives.

A premise.

Forget being visible. Can you do something memorable?

I might be Mayor of Nothing, but I'm grateful to be Known for Something.

And that's the entire point of this.

Ready to get started? Here are my top resources to develop, validate, and own a premise. Whether you're looking to differentiate your entire platform or you're focused on producing an original project of some kind, these will help:

Free resources:

Paid services:

  • Explore my one-on-one coaching at ​jayacunzo.com​​. You can either book a free exploratory call to discuss my 3-month engagements or book an hour coaching call from my site.

  • Join us in the ​​Creator Kitchen​​, the mastermind I cofounded to help smart experts develop their premises, become stronger storytellers, and consistently create more original content.

Jay Acunzo