Facebook new-car reveals are the new way of life in automotive journalism, and it's not all good news.
In just the past few months, we've seen a few major new cars unveiled on the social-media site. Last year's big intro was the 2011 Ford Explorer; this year, before it hits the New York Auto Show, the 2013 Chevrolet Malibu will go live from the Web via Palo Alto.
Facebook helps automakers reach a huge audience of potential buyers, but is it the best way for you to find out about what could very well be your next vehicle? And how are those online launches changing sites like the one you're reading right now?
The Super Bowl, Time and Limbaugh, all at once
Before I sound too much like a journosaur--"Where's my coffee, dammit?"--Facebook has to get the respect it's due. The world clearly has voted, for now, that it's the best way to spread the word about what you like and don't like in an easily managed, hands-off way--a way your friends can consume without actually having to talk to you, or see you in person, for whatever that's worth.
And for every private citizen that signs up for Facebook and starts liking everything from cute-kitten videos to spambots pushing Russian porn, there's a marketing exec who see it as the Holy Grail that'll create or save their careers while traditional channels dry up and blow away.
Those execs are partly correct in their assumptions. Facebook is the biggest media player in the Web game, period, filled with millions of fans who "like" things before they even know what they're about, seeding the subliminal buy-me messages that turn into more dollars down the road. It's the online equivalent of the Super Bowl, Time magazine and the Rush Limbaugh radio show, all at the same time.
The new-media Dust Bowl
For journalists, Facebook has the potential to create a new Dust Bowl, to add to the Dust Bowl we're already living in--if only because it could eventually become the ultimate bypass around the media, the easy route for corporations to speak directly to consumers, without any of those niggling questions or pesky objectivism.
For our money, automotive journalism is supposed to help you with what we've learned. We find and filter information that helps you choose a car, make a repair decision, discover the person behind your favorite car or technology, or to get redress when something's gone wrong. But we're particularly vulnerable to the Facebook effect in automotive media, where a few leathery old journals and a handful of Webby upstarts curate the auto-industry talking points on a daily basis. Some do it largely based on what they're spoon-fed. Combined, all our total audiences, on a good day, might measure out at about one-tenth of that of Facebook.
We like to believe we're a critical part of the process of car shopping and car enthusiasm, but really, who needs the media when it's easy to choreograph a viral onslaught on Facebook's shoulders, versus the hard work of informing media, who will just use that source information to write something of their own?
The most insidious way that journalists are vulnerable is when we're forced to "like" coming vehicles just to keep tabs on new vehicles. Sometimes, details dribble out over the course of months, held captive to some social-media agency's whims, and we're unable to get any emails or calls answered about something before it goes live. There's no chance for research or investigation or simple, basic questions that fill out the spaces between the lines of the press release--it's just "like" it or leave it.