The good news is I’m one of the ‘most influential entrepreneurs in NZ’. The bad news is if I want to actually make the list, it’s going to cost me.
My dopamine soared, a few days back, when an email title popped up on my phone. I’d been chosen to be “honored” as one of the “10 Most Influential Entrepreneurs from New Zealand to Watch in 2023” by APAC Entrepreneur Magazine.
I’m not sure how much I really want to be “watched” in 2023. But Influential? Moi?! Swoon.
The lists that magazines and other media put together of successful individuals have become a staple of modern business socio-narcissism. Most inspiring this. Most powerful that. 30 Under 30. 40 Under 40. Eventually we’ll have an 8 billion under 8 billion and everyone’s mothers will be proud.
But until then, we’ll have shorter lists that make those on them feel all warm and gooey and superior inside. As I was feeling. For a moment.
When I opened the email, the disquiet set in.
The email was fully justified. By that I don’t mean I was a worthy recipient. I’m speaking in the typographical sense. Where “full justification” means that all the lines of text stretch to exactly the left and right borders, like they do in a book.
Anyone who’s used email for a while knows that fully justified emails spell trouble. Nobody fully justifies their emails. Unless they’re using Mailchimp. And sure enough, my Superhuman email app showed an “unsubscribe” button, which means the email I was reading had been sent to a list of people. A list too big to easily just send a normal old BCC’d email. So, uh, more than 10 people.
Then there was the copy. After some opening remarks touting their huge readership base and a platitude about how I had “attracted the attention of our editorial board for setting a benchmark in your industry”, they “wholeheartedly welcomed” me “as one among the ‘10 Most Influential Entrepreneurs from New Zealand to Watch in 2023’.”
Exactly why I was on this list wasn’t mentioned. It’s easy to drop names into a templated mass-email. It’s much more work to automate the writing of an email that goes into specifics about the recipient.
Then, after a whole lot more blurb about this special “honour” (this time spelt in British English), came the kicker. “To support this effort, we have set the standard sponsorship cost of $2,500.”
Yes, just two-and-a-half thousand dollars was all I would have to pay to “enjoy the benefits” of this auspicious honour.
I wrote them back. “Thank you for the invitation. How did you find out about me and what is it specifically about me and my company that you think is worthwhile featuring?”
They answered by quoting me a line from the “about” page of my company’s website: “As part of our inquiry, we discovered,” presumably through a one-minute Google search, “that you created a team of entrepreneurs, researchers, strategy consultants, and designers who collectively work on innovation consultancy, brand building, designing, and much more.”
Quite why that would make me influential or worth writing about is anyone’s guess. And it really made me think.
When people read about the awards and recognitions that media like APAC Entrepreneur publish, they assume that the recipients are worthy. That is, that the publication has spent time studying the industry and its people, and objectively identifying those who’ve made an outstanding contribution.
These lists are only of any value if we’re sharing information about truly effective people and companies who are worth learning from, so that we can all rise.
But the honour bestowed on me demonstrates what many of these actually are – money-making schemes from publishers who populate their “most” lists exclusively with people who are willing to pay for recognition that has in no way been earned.
It’s the ego-industrial complex. It’s absurd. And it’s more common than you might think. One of my US clients, who has a gender-ambiguous first name, told me he was frequently invited to be part of “most inspiring female leaders” lists.
Like his, the email I received was nothing but a fishing expedition. An email presumably sent to anyone in Aotearoa with “founder” or similar in their LinkedIn profile.
And what would the resulting list of most influential entrepreneurs achieve? It would be made up entirely of people who could afford the $2,500 and were desperate enough to want to disingenuously boost their own profile.
Is that who we want our entrepreneurial community to look up to, learn from and aspire to be like?
I get that the media business is financially challenging, and that media platforms need financial assistance. I donate or subscribe to many, including The Spinoff, because I believe that journalism is important and valuable and worth supporting. Had APAC Entrepreneur shown they had gone through a process of researching people and determining a fair, equitable list of worthy recipients, I’d willingly support their efforts.
But this mercenary way of compiling these lists means that only those who can afford the fee get featured, which will naturally suppress minority groups, younger people, entrepreneurs at earlier stages, and anyone doing meaningful mahi without a stockpile of cash at their disposal. Most of whom are those that we really should be celebrating and learning from.
Is there a better way? Of course. And it would be the reverse of what’s currently happening. A “10 NZ Entrepreneurs Worth Learning From” initiative. Any contender would need to be nominated by somebody else. An experienced panel would research and make a considered decision on the 10 recipients. And it would cost nothing – in fact, prize money would be awarded to the winners so they can further their good work.
Perhaps there are worthy donors in the business community who will make that happen. Meanwhile, I’ll be interested to see who ends up “making” the list of APAC Entrepreneur’s 10 Most Influential NZ Entrepreneurs. But I think they should probably call it “10 NZ Entrepreneurs with a big ego and $2,500”.