“We never really grow up. We just learn how to act in public.” ~ Bryan White

Maybe I was ignorant as a child (aren’t we all?), and maybe I was still ignorant as a teen (aren’t we all?), but it was only later in life that I learnt that most interactions in public are pure performance. And like most realistic realizations about the world – this saddened me. For consciously, and unconsciously, I now act in public; consciously controlling my facial expressions, my body movements, and my speech.

Constantly seeing how others see you isn’t a bad thing, but you end up controlling yourself from being completely honest; you remain quiet rather than saying you don’t understand, you lie in order to not hurt the other, all-in-all you’re phoney… you play a role at all times – the teammate, the friend, the co-worker, the polite chit-chatter, the neutral diplomat.

You’re not your Facebook friends, you’re not your likes. You’re not your Twitter followers, you’re not your retweets. You’re not your number of visitors, you’re not your RSS subscribers. You’re not your iPhone, or Blackberry, or Android. You’re not your BBM. You’re not your apps. You’re not fucking Jailbroken.

You’re not your Tumblr reblogs. You’re not your YouTube views. You’re not Stumbled-Upon. You’re not the places you check in. You’re not the mayor.

You’re the all-surfing, all-procrastinating, attention-seeking crap on the web.

First, you’ve got to tell yourself you’re going to eat this damn elephant.

Then, before you even attempt eating the elephant, make sure you have the right utensils. Go to the kitchen, grab a fork, a knife, and a plate. Bring these to the table. Bring your whole self to the table.

Sit down and look at the elephant before you, it’s pretty big.

Take a deep breath. Close your eyes. When you open them again only look at the elephant’s feet. The hardest part to eat. For you, right now, that’s all that exists. And it’s not as big a challenge as eating the whole thing at once.

Open your eyes. See, no elephant – only a leg.

Take your knife, cut a piece off the leg, and with the fork bring it up to your lips, into your mouth, and chew. Pretty tough meat isn’t it? Don’t worry, remember what your mom told you as a kid , “20 chews then swallow.” 18… 19… 20, swallow. Now take your knife again, yes… we’re going to do it again.

Now the legs done. Close your eyes again. Open them. What do you know – another foot to eat. Pick up your knife and fork, get to work.

How’d those four legs taste? Like hard work right? Close your eyes. Open them. Ahhh, the torso. The meatiest part of all.

I know what you’re thinking, “There’s so much!” But hey, it’s not a tough as the legs you just ate. Take your knife, cut a piece off, then use the fork to bring it up to your parting lips, into your mouth, pull the fork away – meat still in your mouth, and chew. Chew, chew, chew. This is why you’re here, to chew.

Stock and flow is something you learn about in economics.

To simplify it all there are two kinds of quantities in the world; stock and flow. Stock is a static value (the in-rest value): the money in your bank, and the houses on a block. Flow is the rate of change (the in-movement value): the money you make per month, or how many hairs you lose as you get older.

Economics should in no way interest you (it interests me, but I’m weird), but what should interest you is how Robin Sloan applied it to media.

In his own words:

Flow is the feed. It’s the posts and the tweets. It’s the stream of daily and sub-daily updates that remind people that you exist.

Stock is the durable stuff. It’s the content you produce that’s as interesting in two months (or two years) as it is today. It’s what people discover via search. It’s what spreads slowly but surely, building fans over time.

Robin goes on to talk about how with the ever growing ease of communication we have with one another (thank you technology) the more we focus on flow and neglect stock. Robin emphasis a balance between the two. That we do both.

And I agree with Robin. Stock and flow are both necessities. We need to stop, hide in our caves for a bit, and build the truly great things while remembering to come out once in a while to connect with people and let them know we’re still alive.

Yet why do so many of us focus on only one and not on both at the same time? Is it because we haven’t become aware of stock and flow yet? I don’t think so.