In a nutshell, the “meme” concept comes to us from a 1976 book by Richard Dawkins, The Selfish Gene, and postulates a kind of cultural equivalent to a gene, a bit of info or content that passes from one person to another, subject to mutation, adaptation, etc. Think the classic “telephone game” but at the bird-flu level with bromance fist bumps and the latest fashion trends in place of viruses.

Owyang uses “macromeme” and “micromeme” to contrast content as packaged and prioritized by big, impersonal entities like The New York Times versus content offered up in our social networks, which used to mean happy hour pals but now more often means Facebook “friends” and tweeps.

Memetics interests me, and I think Owyang’s concepts are worth watching. He leaves the discussion at:

Each of these information delivery systems serves a different purpose, none [he includes an in-between level of content delivery] is better than the other, but it’s important to know that MicroMeme presentation is a trend on the rise. For many, MacroMemes will continue to be the way that information is delivered on the morning breakfast table, but as the next generation of information cravers arrive [sic], information will start to be sorted by our social preferences.

I suppose the thing that kept me up last night (pathetic, I know) is that while I like the idea explored here, I think Owyang is drawing the wrong lines. It’s not about micro vs. macro. It’s oiko vs. xeno.

The significant factor in the content we consume comes down to whether it comes to us from something like us or not like us.

The fact is, most people’s friends, overall, tend to talk like them, think like them and look like them (as in be about the same age, mostly the same ethnicity, etc.). If we go to our social network for content, is that really so different than if we go to the magazines or news programs or radio stations we mostly all read/watch/listen to?

It’s true that I don’t know anyone at Harper’s magazine or Talk of the Nation. But the real stretch for me, in terms of content consumption, wouldn’t be to look from these macrosources to my micronetwork for content delivery — they would feed me the same thing. The real shift would be if I picked up Hunting & Fishing or tuned in to Michael Savage. Or if I started following a white supremist on Twitter.

Final analysis — the meme distinctions that matter are what I would call oikomemes and xenomemes (because we all need more fun words to clutter up our brains, right?) — units of cultural information that are part of our mental and psychological “home” and fit us like a mitten if not a glove vs. those that are from some foreign place I rarely think about let alone visit. Beyond that, it doesn’t matter whether the content comes from my 8 trusted social media cronies or ACME Content, Inc.

Why does this keep me up at night? Owyang also suggests:

I want you to start thinking differently about how you get information. As you know from my postings, that trust is highest from our peers, we trust those that are like us, or our friends above all us [sic]. MicroMemes are highly focused and targeted, delivering the information to you that your network and friends thinks is important.

OK. But does it really serve us — as a society or as global citizens — to be slurping the same vanilla milkshake everywhere we go?

More on that in the next post.