Rep. Joe Barton’s apology to BP CEO Tony Hayward this morning smacks of concessions, and moreover, was a total embarrassment.

Quite frankly, Barton’s actions align with something that has troubled me throughout the first year and a half of the Obama administration — Republicans do not want to let go. I can’t blame them. But at some point they need to stop acting like someone will eventually step in and say, “Oh, you were right. Obama, you’re out.” It’s not going to happen.

Yes, I’m aware that he placed a caveat by prefacing his statement with a claim that he speaks for himself, and not for the Republican Party. However, he also inserts agenda into his “opinion” by claiming that the same “shakedown” could occur to citizens as well as corporations. The truth is, Obama and Hayward came to an agreement, and despite criminal investigations, BP is still on the hook for damages that have been done to the gulf coast, it’s inhabitants, etc. They needed to be held accountable, and the decision to put $20 billion towards recovery was an attempt at good will, not a shakedown. It’s called accountability, folks.

I know this is completely unrelated, but it astounds me that we are capable of rallying together to find solutions to annoyances like the Vuvuzela bzzzz during the World Cup, yet we are unable to collectively sort through the damage occurring daily to the gulf coast eco-system. Don’t even get me started on the people complaining about their ability to afford the iPhone 4 despite such horrors as AT&T server failures or delayed shipping.

Update: Barton made another statement this afternoon, clarifying his remarks from this morning. He insists that he holds BP responsible, and does not want his apology to cloud that. Whatever, the damage is done. Let’s not ignore that Oil & Gas industries were the #2 contributors to your campaign funds.

OK Go’s latest video, the second they’ve produced for their song “This Too Shall Pass” sparked this post. My wife was catching up on the goings on around the web this morning at breakfast, and despite having been sent the video 100 times I’d yet to actually watch it. Mind you, I’ve followed the backstory and was totally aware of the motivations behind the move by the band. I’d just neglected to actually sit down and watch the damn thing. It’s good, and I’ve embedded below for those who, like me, were somehow living under a rock all week.

The driving force behind this post was to discuss the band’s deft use of transparency to create viral videos, promote their work, and singlehandedly become a household name through the use of social media and the Interwebs. I’ll get to all of that, because it’s fun. But first, a primer.

Media companies typically wrestle with issues of transparency, and to say that they “don’t get it” is an understatement. There are exceptions to every rule, but most of these exceptions extend from businesses and brands whose core business is closely linked to their consumers and customer support. Before we dive into this, let’s take a look at some of the brands that have successfully jumped onto the transparency wagon in positive and impacting ways.

Transparency comes easily for those connected to their customers

I apologize in advance, but many of these examples incorporate uses of everyone’s favorite network du jour — Twitter. But truthfully, Twitter is a tremendous enabler of transparent practices, but there is a thin grey line between transparency and self-promotion and Twitter remains fairly agnostic when it comes to uses of its platform. More on this later. For now, let’s take a look at three different use cases in brand transparency.

Sometimes, it’s about personality. Wait, it’s ALWAYS about personality.

Starbucks has skin in the game because the majority of their consumer base engages directly with a Starbucks employee on a daily basis in order to consume their product. Training someone to brew the perfect espresso is only a part of the process, their baristas and managers are also trained to engage, be personable, and be transparent as core fundamentals for their business. Sure, they aren’t given the freedom to divulge company financials or upcoming sales promotions if linked to bigger accounts, but when was the last time you asked a barista for a Pumpkin Spice Latte, were told that it was no longer available, and then given a vague and divisive response when you questioned why? Never. The answer you get is, “We run that drink seasonally” but it’s often accompanied with sentiment and empathy along the lines of, “I know! So many people ask us for that one, but it’s only a seasonal drink. I don’t know why we don’t make it a year round drink, it’s so popular!”

People want brands they can trust. Trust starts with listening. Actions need to show that you’re listening.

Companies like Southwest Airlines have a long history with customer service, and the company has prided itself on their practices for some time. When Twitter first began making waves with transparent communication, the airlines were amongst the first to dive into the platform for better or worse. Many have used the platform to post updates to flight schedules and delays, which is certainly helpful, but the real boon has come from monitoring brand mentions and addressing customer complaints. I’ve witnessed lost luggage snafus, cancelled flight clarifications, and many more issues that can be extremely aggravating for travelers resolved in 140 character snippets. Last month Southwest took some serious heat from Kevin Smith over their weight restrictions and policies for passengers on the airline. Say what you will about the policies themselves, you cannot deny that Southwest handled the situation well by posting several responses to the situation, clarifying their policies publicly, and most importantly, being transparent about the issue. They took some heat, sure, but their responses signaled one very important message to their customer base — we’re listening to our customers, and our customers are being heard.

Note: Anyone claiming that Kevin received special treatment need only look at their track record and Twitter stream — there are a lot of helpful tweets prior to Kevin-gate.

The little details add value.

Full disclosure: I am no longer a Comcast customer because, frankly, they charge way too much for their product. But that’s a story for another time. While I was a customer, the company’s use of Twitter was undeniably one of the high points. Frank Eliason has really done some tremendous work establishing a voice for Comcast online, and for a company with as many customer service issues as they’ve had in the past, it’s been pretty transformative. My last days as a Comcast customer were surprisingly better than I’d anticipated. Visiting their local office to turn in equipment introduced me to a completely revamped customer service center. But this is all rhetoric, Frank’s team responds in real time to customer issues sent their way. I’ve had my box reset via DM, and had speed and feed issues/questions clarified in 140 character bursts (and more importantly without any annoying muzak). It’s not just the service, but the level of clarification that sets Frank’s work apart. There were several times that Frank could have simply responded with, “There was an outage in your neighborhood,” but instead took the time to give ETA and details. Being transparent made me feel more included, more important…bottomline, more valued.

The thin grey line between transparency and promotion

So what does this all mean? Media companies, traditionally, are completely isolated from their customer base. In fact, their community and consumers are all data points tied to financial summaries. The movie industry conducts audience testing, but it’s hardly a worthwhile sampling. Television tracks viewership, but that’s not a two-way form of communication. Most measurement in media is done from the perspective of performance. If a movie sells a lot of tickets, then it was popular. If a TV show gets good ratings, then it’s successful. And so on. The problem is, these forms of measurement do not inform the production process. It’s a closed loop with no real form of iteration.

This has been extended to the way most media companies view the web, social media, and transparency. All of these are conduits of promotion in the eyes of media companies, not an opportunity for growth via meaningful engagement. This is where I close the loop with the practices of OK Go. This band is defying most of the conventional uses of the Internet with regards to media. They’ve publicly acknowledged the issues facing them with regards to the practices of their label.

Their videos are rough while staged, and their fans get to see the lines still present in the finished product. When you watch their latest video, you’re not just watching the finished and produced product, as a viewer you are witnessing the moment at which the finished product was created while still enjoying the finished product. The viewer is the consumer, but is made to feel like a participant at the same time. By showing them the lines, OK Go includes their audience in the event, and ultimately uses transparency to break the fourth wall.

Their videos let their viewers see the lines.

Re-watch their latest video, and instead of focusing on the Rube Goldberg machine (which is marvelous), take a look at the rest of the stuff in the frame. Their bassist kicks off the video dressed in coveralls and goggles that are splattered with red paint. Broken TVs, pianos, and spare parts are littered around the workspace. This isn’t the work of a team concerned with a polished illusion, they want the process to be a part of the product. You can even catch glimpses of the band as they run into position for their next shot.

Audiences identify with this level of transparency, and it is this sort of the thing that transforms someone from a casual viewer into a a fan. This is how fandoms are grown.

In a media landscape still struggling to adjust to the transformations imposed by the growing influence of the web, only select artists, journalists, and content creators are truly grasping the importance of transparency when it comes to building a following. For the most part journalism, film, and music are still wrestling with this concept — and a major hurdle for most seems to be holding on firmly to the creative process. The traditional school of thought seems to be that art must be produced in private, the tricks of the trade must be guarded and concealed from the viewer, and the audience must not see the strings on the marionettes. To do otherwise would violate the cardinal rule of the trade, and prevent the consumer from enjoying the finished product.

The cold, hard truth is that publishing tools have all been openly distributed to the masses. Film, music, print — all of these methods of publishing are available to anyone interested in trying their hand at these trades. The differences between professionally trained content creators is simple — quality. Creators in this space are faced with balancing their creative processes with the ability to grow audiences, and many are uncomfortable losing any more advantage beyond access to publishing tools. This is why transparency is such an issue for many.

All of this said, those who appear to be more accessible, more open, and more interested in what their audiences have to say will grow stronger followings. But the first step is letting go, listening, and communicating. Unfortunately for some, that level of commitment is non-negotiable.

Back in 2002, director Gaspar Noé unleashed the emotional onslaught Irréversible upon the world. At the Cannes film festival, reports of audiences walking out (and in some cases fainting) during screenings piqued interest in the film. Reactions poured in, and people questioned Noé’s motivation behind using acts of brutality and ultra-violence as centerpieces in the film.

As if by dare, cinephiles around the globe climbed into theaters to answer the question, “Is Irréversible a brilliant rebuttal to the revenge film, or merely an shameful exercise in gimmickry?” Defenders of the former argued that while sensational, the reworked timeline and presentation of the violent acts combined to create a dissertation on the fragility and futility of life. After all, the tagline for the film is, “Time destroys everything.”

Detractors felt Noé was guilty of painting a hateful and homophobic picture of homosexual men — specifically by portraying Le Tenia (Jo Prestia) first as a violent rapist, and later being beaten to death by Marcus (Vincent Cassel) with a fire extinguisher. The feeling at the time was that Le Tenia did not need to be homosexual for the plot to work, and that in doing so Noé created an opportunity to literally and viscerally gay bash.

My take, which is wholly based on multiple viewing of the film, is that Le Tenia’s orientation and backstory is actually used to create added confusion, something that is rarely captured in films dealing with these types of scenarios. Our brains are hardwired to seek out a sense of understanding when confronted with the unexplainable, and our desire to reason through the unreasonable often creates frustration when processing complex crimes such as rape.

Personally, Noé’s decision to reverse chronology trumps the accusation of homophobic revenge tale. We witness the crime resulting from Le Tenia’s actions before we ever see what he is supposedly guilty of. Note the word choice, as Marcus is as guilty (if not moreso) of committing a crime in the end. The ultimate message behind the film resonates more in the “what does revenge solve?” camp, than that of the redemption tale.

A film like this compels me to re-assess my life, my loved ones, and all manners in which I take for granted those around me. After initially screening the film back in 2002, I felt like holding my wife nonstop for as long as I could. I second-guessed moments of frustration and anger, knowing that each one was still far more endearing to me than the infinite possibilities that exist outside of the scope of reason. Take no one for granted, ever.

Many argued the implausibility of an attack like the one by Le Tenia on Alex (Monica Bellucci), but if the details of the recent gang rape at Richmond High School during a school function were relayed to you verbally, wouldn’t you instinctively believe it to be embellished? Crimes such as these are hurtful and inexplicable, and ultimately lead to a series of questions that should, for all intents and purposes, have reasonable answers. Why wasn’t the area where the 15-year-old student was raped better lit? Why were there no parents at the homecoming dance? These things can, and will, How could other human beings walk by this atrocity in action and not think to alert the authorities?

Like Le Tenia’s motivations, we will never truly comprehend the mindset of the assailants on that fateful night. In the end, does the sexual orientation of the assailants ultimately matter? No, the absurdity of the act, the random nature in which the victim was selected and violated will continue to confound, and all motivations go completely out the window when something of this nature transpires.

Unlike Vincent’s decision to seek revenge, the victim’s family is reacting in the only manner that truly steps towards making crimes such as these, though they may never truly be irreversible, preventable.

not much else to say. trying to get this back up and running, but so far it’s not looking good.