If you haven’t got anything nice to say…

I’ve been ill for as long as I can remember, with a malevolently persistent chesty cough that conventional medicine is doing bugger all to shift. Having toyed with the idea of an exorcism (“Foul spirit, I command you to leave this body…”), I decided instead to hit it where it hurts: with complimentary Prosecco, plinky plonky music and endless clouds of lovely, lovely STEAM. A spa day. That’ll show it…

It began in the Laconium – a warm, moderately humid room, designed for quiet meditation and contemplation. I was clearly the only person to have read this on the sign outside:

“Ooh, it’s warm in here…”

“Isn’t it warm?”

“Isn’t it…?”

“Are you warm, Gina?”

“I’m right warm…”

“The smell is lovely – or should I say, the scent…”

“It really does smell nice…”

“It’s really warm, and it smells really nice…”

“Is anyone else warm?”

My blood pressure is rising at this point, the urge to ‘sshhh!’ the women around me near overwhelming. We’re in the Laconium, people! Laconium – laconic – of few words – get it?

And then a new voice chimed in:

“I’m so relaxed. I am SO relaxed. I haven’t been this relaxed in ages. Are you relaxed, Karen? I am so, SO relaxed…Mmmmm. This room just really relaxes me. It’s just SO. RELAXING and I am SO. RELAXED. Coming in here – oooooooh… It’s just… relaxing!”

And I had to get up and leave before I punched her. This was my leisure time, my private time, my doing-something-for-me time. Where did these irritating women get off, polluting my airspace with such inane… rubbish?

And then I had a Carrie Bradshaw moment: It got me thinking… These wittering women – they’re like the brands I follow on Facebook that I really shouldn’t. The ones I haven’t got around to unLiking yet. The brands who have nothing of interest or value to say, but who insist on saying it anyway.

Like the retailer that likes to give me up-to-the-minute information on what the weather is like at their head office. Perhaps they imagine I don’t have access to the BBC weather pages, or a clean window or, you know, my own eyes… They don’t link this information to a product suited to the season, or an activity I might like to do in this weather, or a video illustrating their point or… anything, really. Just a friendly, one-line, unhelpfully city-specific weather update. Sometimes, to shake things up a bit, they ask me what the weather is like near me. They really like weather.

Or the high-end perfume house that uses Facebook to talk in riddles: ‘Discover the art of pampering. Enliven the soul. Enrich the spirit. Lose yourself in the beautiful myriad of complexity and rhythm that is uniquely you.’ Um. I’m just going to scroll on down instead, if that’s okay.

And then there’s the cosmetics company that just tries to sell me stuff. Buy this… Or this… Or this… Please, buy something… If I fill your feed with enough links, would you just BUY something? Anything? At all…? I’m not going to give you anything back. I’m not going to reward you in any way for Liking me. I just want you to buy STUFF. Now. See this sparkly eyeshadow? BUY IT, B*TCH!

Facebook is my personal space. An extension of my living room. If I Like a brand, I am inviting it into my space – and if you’re cosying up on my orange sofa with me, you’d better make damn sure you’re good company. At 20:20 Agency, we’d call it ‘being human’ – but of course it isn’t that simple. The ladies in the Laconium were human. Humans can be really annoying.

I don’t mind brands gently trying to sell stuff to me on Facebook, as long as they understand I’m highly unlikely to buy it. I’m catching up with friends and news – my purse is in my bag, my bag is in the hallway, and honestly, you’re going to have to offer me the bargain of the century to make me get off my backside and go and get it. I’m sitting down. I have a nice cup of tea. I’m comfy.

And I didn’t invite you in here to witter on at me about yourself, either. You’re in my personal space, remember? Earn your place – entertain me! Be conversational, be engaging, tell me something I didn’t know, ask me about me, god, even tell me a joke… First date conversation rules definitely apply – it’s not all about you.

Some brands do Facebook very well. Go and Like O2. They mix up polls, offers, an unexpected but not unwelcome rash of Lolcat images, conversation starters, genuinely interesting information on how to use your phone and yes, news about their sales, products and services. And it’s really interesting and often funny. And lots of people share their updates– the Holy Grail for branded content, and particularly impressive given that O2 are essentially a commodity provider. It’s like your car insurer becoming a part of your everyday life. No mean feat.

And I love Innocent Drinks on Facebook. I know – with that brand personality, and that tone of voice, it would be hard to get it wrong. Except that being consistently witty and engaging, day in, day out, even when you’re feeling poorly or your boiler has broken or your new boyfriend turns out to be an emotionally-retarded idiot who’s only interested in one thing and it’s not even your body… Yeah. Not easy. Hats off to whoever manages the consistently upbeat, on brand content.

Finally, I’m quietly admiring the Facebook work of Pringles. They follow a very simple, pretty tried-and-tested formula of asking the community questions, and if I put my critical head on, some of their posts do slip into the ‘inane’ category (’4 more sleeps til the weekend!’ Hmmm…), but mostly they have a knack of asking questions that people want to answer. Ask me what my favourite song is, and I want to tell you, because it’s an easy question and my favourite song is easily better than the songs of the 846 people who have replied before me, and as if Justin Bieber’s ‘Mistletoe’ is even worthy of a mention… They start conversations and foster debate. It’s social, innit… And when it snowed, they gave you a download of Mr P’s moustache and eyes to put on your snowman. What’s not to love about that?

Back at the spa, I’m in the Turkish Hamman giving my lungs a thorough steam clean when I overhear a nurse talking about a piece of equipment she uses on the Navy ship she works on – a machine that separates platelets from blood. Oooh. I’d never thought about what the Navy does for blood supplies when a ship is in the middle of an ocean.

Neither had the people around me, it seems. Soon we were all engaged in a Q&A session with her, at first about nursing at sea but then more broadly about civilian life on board a Navy ship. It was fascinating. None of us minded the silence being broken, because she had something interesting to say.

The digital world is no different to the real world. If you’ve got something worth saying, there’s no shortage of ears willing to listen. Bang on about how warm you are, and a punch in the mouth in the form of an unLike will surely follow.