Why a Social Credit Score is an Empty and Dangerous Notion

November 21st, 2011 | Guest Contributor | 31 Comments

life and death of 9413Guest post by Pierre-Loic Assayag

I’m being challenged to a battle of egos by a stranger on Twitter:

“@pierreloic your Klout Score is 33 (I’m a 51). Check out your @klout profile today.”

Of course, I could always ask Shonali to the rescue. She’s after all “a 63″ and the Klout resident expert on all things bacon and Kim Kardashian. :-)

Instead, this tweet made me reflect on what could have become of the business I co-founded, Traackr (an influencer discovery platform).

I’m glad we didn’t let it.

Back in 2007, my co-founder, David, and I kicked around ideas fairly similar to what Klout does today. We even built and launched a consumer app helping power users (the term “influencer” didn’t exist to describe online authorities at the time) measure their success and gain insights on their contribution, their peer network, etc.

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The Klout Drama Kontinues

October 28th, 2011 | Shonali Burke | 70 Comments

Maxwell's Silver HammerI cannot believe how much drama there is around Klout’s most recent changes.

I mean, come on, people, it’s only a number.

How many times do any of us have to say that?!

Let me tell you a little story. 

Last week, I clicked through to an email Klout sent me telling me I had new notifications (yes, now I’ve realized that they’re doing that every day, and I’m not going to fall for it any more; suffice it to say I wasn’t having a particularly smart day) on my profile.

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When Traackr Met MeasurePR

June 16th, 2011 | Shonali Burke | 12 Comments

It was a dark night, the moon sullenly refusing to come out from behind the clouds.

As Ken walked along the path less traveled, his thoughts meandered from the rancid pizza that was no doubt waiting on his front stoop (Papa John knew him well), the less-than pleasant conversation he’d had with his ex that morning, and what life would be like on a desert island.

At first, the rustle in the bushes didn’t catch his attention. Neither did the second. But the third – followed by a “clip clop clip clop” – did.

He stopped, whipping his head around. Silence and a blank landscape, littered with the remnants of dying dreams, greeted him.

Pulling his trenchcoat even tighter, Ken continued on his way. “Clip clop clip clop.” There it was again!

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