Real-Name Verification
Frank is a businessman who understands human nature, and this product is practically a trap tailor-made for human nature.
"That's not enough." Nakayama Takuya smiled and played his trump card. "We'll add a button, right below the article. Draw a thumbs-up. When users are satisfied with the content, they can click it, and the counter above will increment by one. When the number reaches something beyond the user's imagination, that feeling of being recognized will be addictive."
"And then there are comments, interactions, searches—" Frank muttered to himself, "This will create a huge network. United States are a bunch of megalomaniacs at heart. Give them a Mike, and they can talk about everything from their backyard lawn to White House policies. Current BBS forums are too chaotic to satisfy their desire for a 'one-man show.' But this blog—it's giving each of them a stage."
"That's right. And these personalized settings include prettier background images, cooler avatar frames, and more eye-catching logos." Nakayama Takuya rubbed his fingers together, making a universally recognized gesture. "Want to stand out? You'll have to pay extra."
"The average user's page is plain white with black text, boring and dull. But if you're willing to pay two US dollar a month, your page can be transformed into a cool starry sky background, or a pink lace border. Your avatar can be a size larger than others, and it might even sparkle."
"That's class." Nakayama Takuya's voice was soft, yet it struck a chord deep within. "In this virtual world, we need to let some people get rich first, to become beautiful first. As long as there's comparison, there will be competition. And as long as there's competition, people will willingly pull out their credit cards."
Frank took a deep breath, and his brow, which had been furrowed due to bandwidth costs, completely relaxed, even turning slightly red from extreme excitement.
He rubbed his hands together; those hands, which were originally belonging to elite executives, now looked somewhat impatient, and his eyes gleamed with the most primal business desires.
At this moment, this Silicon Valley CEO doesn't look like a tech upstart, but rather like a large goblin guarding a gold mine, calculating with clattering abacuses.
"As long as this differentiation satisfies their vanity," Frank gritted his teeth, forcing out the words, "Let alone two US dollar, even five US dollar, these guys would line up to stuff money into our pockets."
Tom laughed loudly, "You're charging for this too? Are you trying to empty the pockets of those tech geeks?"
"No, Tom, you're wrong." Nakayama Takuya shook his head, his smile fading, his expression becoming unusually serious. "I'm not just going to drain them dry, I'm going to give them money."
The meeting room fell silent instantly.
Free money? Capitalists giving money away to users?
"Frank, aren't the sides of the blog page just empty?" Nakayama Takuya gestured to the air. "What if we put Google Play boxes there? If someone clicks on those Google Play boxes, what about the money the Google Play merchants give us, and we share it with the blogger?"
Clang.
Frank dropped the paper cup in his hand, spilling the remaining half-cup of water onto the expensive carpet.
He didn't react at all, remaining frozen in the chair.
How to make money for users?
In an era where even internet access is charged by the hour, this idea is simply anti-human, anti-common sense, and anti-capitalist!
But the next second, Frank trembled all over.
If writing articles could earn money, even just a few cents, how crazy would those users go?
They would produce content day and night, and like mad dogs, they would send their blog links to everyone they knew, begging them to click on them.
What used to be a matter of spending money to buy traffic has now become a situation where users actively seek out and attract traffic!
This isn't Weblog; it's turning every user into a free salesperson, or even a partner, for Silicon Valley Online.
"WeBlog—" Frank's voice trembled; this time he truly understood the meaning of the word, "It's about us—making our fortune together on this internet."
"Brilliant." Nakayama Takuya snapped his fingers. "I've already come up with the story for you. The ultimate embodiment of the internet spirit, 'making knowledge generate value,' brag about it however you like. Let's see if any programmer is willing to be the first to try it, turn him into a star, and let him show off his checks."
Frank suddenly stood up, the movement so sudden that he overturned the chair.
He didn't bother to help her up; he spun around twice on the spot, his eyes bloodshot.
Nakayama Takuya reached out and pressed his hand down, continuing, "Remember that Blue V Verification?"
"I remember, that was real-name authentication; each tagged user would reveal their real identity."
"On a blog, this blue verified badge will be more valuable. That's the real killer feature." Nakayama Takuya continued sketching the blog page on the whiteboard.
Tom leaned forward, having caught up with Nakayama Takuya's train of thought, and continued, "If we give President Clinton or Michael Jack accounts on the blog and give them that Blue V Verification mark, then every word they say here will no longer be casual conversation, but an official statement." At that point, traditional newspapers, television stations, and even CNN will have to come to our website for news material.
"That's right." Nakayama Takuya put down his cup and nodded approvingly. "Everyone will become their own media. What we need to do is to wrest the power of discourse from the traditional media and distribute it to everyone with influence, including ourselves, of course."
Tom grew increasingly excited. "This could even become Sega's exclusive marketing channel. When we release a new console, we won't need to beg <Electronic Gaming Monthly> for space; we can just post a detailed, illustrated press release on the official Sega blog, and gamers worldwide will see it immediately."
"To make this fire burn even brighter, the initial operations must keep up," Nakayama Takuya added. "We can't expect users to know how to use it from the start. We need to find a few well-written shills," or poach a few columnists. Have them write serials, sharp commentary, and even create some controversy. We need to set a benchmark and tell users: Look, this is what a blog is like, this is what it feels like to be a star on the internet."
Frank wasn't listening to the grand narrative about media power; his mind was filled with the clinking of gold coins.
Seeing that the two were still reeling from the shock of being called "national bloggers," Nakayama Takuya showed no pity whatsoever. He tapped his fingers lightly on the table, the sound like a countdown to the next bombardment.
"Now that we've covered the extensions of BBS, let's move on to ICQ."
1
As he spoke, Nakayama Takuya poured Frank another glass of ice water.
Frank and Tom, with perfect timing, simultaneously grabbed the paper cups in front of them and gulped down large mouthfuls of ice water.