I Googled a man who used to be impossible to miss

The other day, for no particular reason, I started thinking about my old boss, Godfrey Solomon.

What a character. Well over six feet tall, magnificent handlebar moustache, drove the smallest MG imaginable. Watching this enormous man unfold himself from that tiny car was a sight in itself.

He'd come up from London bringing all his fancy agency ways with him and built something successful and well respected here in Yorkshire. People knew him. People remembered him. People trusted him. His name opened doors.

Godfrey had what we'd probably call a fantastic personal brand now. Except nobody called it that. He had a reputation. So I did what we all do now. I Googled him. I wanted to see what was out there about him. I expected to find lots of anecdotes and accolades. But I found virtually nothing.

Godfrey died before the internet really had chance to record him. And I found that strangely sad. But what struck me just as much was this — I'd simply assumed I would find him. Without thinking, I pressed a few buttons expecting the internet to tell me the rest.

That's how much our behaviour has changed.

And I think there's a lesson in there for businesses that say, "I don't really do social media."

I understand it. You don't want to dance on TikTok or photograph your lunch. Neither do I. But I think we've confused being present with performing. They're not the same thing. When somebody hears about your business today, they look you up. A recommendation that twenty-five years ago might have been enough to make you pick up the phone now comes with an extra step. We Google them. We check their website. We read a review or two. Heck, we even use ChatGPT (other LLM’s are available).

Sometimes social media isn't where the recommendation happens.
It's where the recommendation gets checked out.

We're not looking to be impressed. We're looking for signs of life.

So no, I don't think you need to be everywhere or post every day. But I do think you need to be present. Because when someone hears your name and reaches for their phone, they'll expect to find something.

I know they will. Because that's exactly what I did with Godfrey.

And perhaps there's a rather lovely ending to this story.

Godfrey died before the internet really had chance to record him. But now I've written about him. The successful Yorkshire agency. The London ways. The handlebar moustache. And the sight of a six-foot-something man somehow climbing out of a ridiculously small MG.

So perhaps the next person who remembers Godfrey Solomon and presses a few buttons… might find this.