Tag: marketing

‘authenticity’

There’s something deeply ironic happening in the advertising world right now, and once you notice it, you can’t unsee it. Walk through any social media feed, flip through streaming commercials, or even glance at billboards, and you’ll spot them everywhere: ads that are trying desperately hard to look like they’re not trying at all.

The Rise of Faux Authenticity

We’ve entered an era where the most calculated marketing campaigns masquerade as candid moments. Shaky camera work that screams “shot on an Android phone in someone’s bedroom” has become a legitimate creative direction in Madison Avenue boardrooms. Influencers stumble over their words in perfectly imperfect takes, delivering what feels like spontaneous testimonials that were actually scripted, rehearsed, and approved by three different marketing teams.

This isn’t accidental. It’s the advertising industry’s response to a generation that grew up skeptical of traditional marketing. We learned to tune out the glossy, overproduced commercials of our parents’ era. So advertisers pivoted, adopting the aesthetic language of genuine user-generated content, TikTok videos, and authentic social media posts.

The Lo-Fi Aesthetic Takes Over

The technical term might be “lo-fi advertising,” but what we’re really talking about is manufactured authenticity. These campaigns feature:

  • Deliberately grainy footage that mimics smartphone cameras
  • “Natural” lighting that’s actually carefully staged
  • Influencers who seem relatable but are paid handsomely for their relatability
  • “Candid” testimonials from real customers who happen to have perfect skin and impeccable timing
  • Brands inserting themselves into memes and viral trends with the subtlety of a neon sign

The aesthetic borrows heavily from amateur content creation, but strip away the calculated casualness and you’ll find the same old marketing machinery humming beneath the surface.

Everything Is Content, Everything Is Sales

Perhaps what’s most exhausting about this trend is how it reflects a broader reality: we’ve reached a point where every possible human experience has been weaponized for commerce. Your morning routine? Content. Your workout struggle? Content. Your mental health journey? Definitely content, and probably sponsored by a meditation app.

The “authentic” advertising trend isn’t just about selling products—it’s about colonizing the last spaces where genuine human expression existed. When brands successfully mimic the look and feel of real, unfiltered human moments, they’re not just selling widgets; they’re training us to question whether anything we see is truly authentic.

The Authenticity Arms Race

This creates a fascinating paradox. As consumers become savvier about recognizing manufactured authenticity, advertisers have to work even harder to seem genuine. It becomes an arms race of realness, where each side tries to outmaneuver the other. Brands study viral content like anthropologists, analyzing why certain low-quality videos resonate while their high-budget campaigns fall flat.

Meanwhile, actual content creators find themselves caught in the middle. The platforms that reward authentic content are the same ones flooded with brands imitating that authenticity. It becomes increasingly difficult to distinguish between someone sharing a genuine moment and someone whose genuine moment happens to include strategic product placement.

The Fatigue Is Real

There’s a particular kind of exhaustion that comes with navigating this landscape. It’s the mental effort required to constantly evaluate: Is this real? Is this sponsored? Is this person genuinely excited about this face cream, or are they really excited about their mortgage payment?

The lo-fi advertising trend preys on our desire for connection and authenticity, packaging those feelings back to us as products to purchase. It’s emotionally manipulative in a way that traditional advertising, for all its flaws, never quite managed to be.

Where Do We Go From Here?

The irony is thick: in an attempt to seem more human, advertising has become more artificial than ever. The energy spent crafting the perfect “imperfect” moment, the resources devoted to seeming effortless, the calculations behind appearing genuine—it’s all deeply, absurdly inauthentic.

Perhaps the only authentic response is to acknowledge the absurdity. We live in a world where every possible thing is being done to sell widgets to people one way or another, as you put it. Recognizing this reality doesn’t make us cynics; it makes us informed consumers navigating an increasingly complex media landscape.

The challenge isn’t to find truly authentic advertising—that might be an oxymoron. Instead, it’s to maintain our ability to recognize and value genuine human connection, even in a world that’s constantly trying to monetize those very connections.

After all, the most authentic thing we can do might be to admit that we’re all a little tired of the performance.

Of Marketing These Five Thrillers


by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner

I’m just daydreaming here, but I often find myself thinking about the marketing of these five novels and how that should change the novels themselves. One issue is, as it stands, the Olivia Munn-type character is the protagonist of only two of the novels. Then her son is the protagonist for two novels and then my Lisbeth Salander-type person is the hero of the last book.

This works, at least from a creative standpoint because I see the first three novels as a trilogy and the last two novels as the beginning a new series based around my personal interpolation of the Lisbeth Salander trope.

And, yet, at the heart of these five novels is the relationship between the Olivia Munn-type character and my Lisbeth Salander type character. But I sometimes find myself struggling with how all of this would be marketed. People want a character they know they’re going to come back to once they grow familiar with it and I wonder how marketing would deal with the shift in focus over the course of the series.

I personally think I’m overthinking things. The point is to tell a series of great stories that have an overall theme to them. I can’t get too worked up about the marketing of the stories if I do a good to great job telling the individual stories. And it’s not like people’s favorite character — if she becomes one — will be missing. She’ll still be there, it’s just the focus will be on her son, and, then, later a fucked up woman about Lisbeth Salander’s age in The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo.

Imagine Olivia Munn playing this type of character (to some extent) and that would be the protagonist two novels in this series and the series’ overall heart.

And, I want to be clear, my interpolation of the Lisbeth Salander trope is a variation on a theme. The two characters are dramatically different, to the point that, again, only for marketing purposes might their similarities be enough to highlight.

Anyway, I have a long ways to go before I have to worry about such things in real terms. I have to fucking finish an actual first draft, for Christ’s sake. But every time I get closer to a serious first draft, I get closer to not embarrassing myself.

It’s just taken much, much, much longer than I expected because apparently my storying telling ability sucked a lot more than I realized when I began this process a few years ago.