While AI is the greatest marketing story since the internet, it’s been earning a lot of bad press lately.
It begins to make you think:: Does AI have a marketing problem?
listen to this podcast here The Marketing Companion Podcast by Mark Schaefer
Let’s be honest: we’re living in a time when the lines between work and life are blurrier than ever. Between Slack notifications at dinner and emails marked “urgent” on Sunday mornings, the boundaries of what it means to “show up” for your job have shifted. And now, we’ve added a new twist to the story: Employee-Generated Content (EGC).
On the surface, EGC looks like a win-win. Companies get authentic, relatable content that makes them seem human, and employees get to express pride in their work. But let’s peel back the layers. Is it really as empowering as it seems, or are we watching a subtle form of exploitation take root in modern workplaces?
Here’s the thing about EGC: it’s rarely pitched as a “mandatory” task. No one’s going to sit you down and say, “Post about your job, or else.” Instead, it’s presented as a fun way to show off your company pride. A LinkedIn post here, an Instagram reel there. But let’s not kid ourselves—when leadership starts rewarding employees who post, or when participation becomes the unspoken expectation, that’s not empowerment. That’s pressure, plain and simple.
Think about the employees who’d rather keep their work life and personal life separate. Are they less likely to get promotions because they’re not “visible” enough online? When the ability to market your employer becomes a factor in your career trajectory, we’ve got a problem.
Now let’s talk ownership. You’ve crafted a viral TikTok celebrating your team’s success. It’s authentic. It’s heartfelt. And it’s yours…right? Not so fast.
Most companies have policies stating that anything you create related to your job belongs to them. So, that content you spent hours perfecting? It’s now company property. If it goes viral, your employer reaps the benefits. You might get a pat on the back, but you’re not seeing a dime of the increased sales or engagement that post generated. It’s like planting a tree and being told you can’t eat the fruit.
And what about privacy? Employees are encouraged to share “behind-the-scenes” glimpses of their work, but at what cost? When workspaces become content sets, the line between personal and professional life dissolves. Are employees truly free to say no when the company’s image is at stake?
Here’s another wrinkle: in the age of EGC, charisma is currency. Companies love employees who can double as influencers. If you’ve got a knack for storytelling or an aesthetically pleasing Instagram feed, you might find yourself unofficially labeled the “face” of the company.
But what happens when the spotlight fades? Are these employees compensated for the extra labor of being both staff and brand ambassadors? Rarely. And let’s be real: this dynamic often rewards extroverts and social media-savvy workers while sidelining those who’d rather focus on, you know, their actual job.
We’ve reached a point where hiring managers might skim your Instagram before your résumé. If your personal brand isn’t polished, does that make you less hireable? It’s a slippery slope, one that prioritizes optics over substance. The question becomes: are we hiring talent or TikTok stars?
Constantly performing—whether for your boss or your followers—is exhausting. It leads to burnout, erodes trust, and turns genuine enthusiasm into a chore. Employees feel like they’re always “on,” not just doing their jobs but selling their workplace at the same time. And let’s not even get started on the gender and diversity implications. Women, minorities, and underrepresented groups often bear the brunt of “culture-building” labor—yet another invisible workload.
We’re not saying companies should scrap EGC entirely. When done right, it can be a powerful tool for engagement and storytelling. But it needs to be ethical, equitable, and truly voluntary. Here’s how:
At its best, it’s a celebration of teamwork and pride. At its worst, it’s a tool for exploitation, blurring the lines between personal and professional lives.
The choice is ours: Will we use EGC to uplift employees or to commodify them? Because here’s the truth—a company’s greatest asset isn’t its brand, its products, or even its profits. It’s its people. And if we’re not taking care of them, no amount of glossy Instagram posts will save us.
*pls note that the examples featured above are some of the best ESG content i was able to find online
Imagine a world where the boundaries of truth and civility dissolve, leaving behind a digital battlefield of unchecked misinformation, hate, and division. Now imagine your brand—a beacon of trust and connection—being forced to navigate that chaos. That’s the world Mark Zuckerberg’s Meta is actively shaping with its sweeping “free speech overhaul.”
This isn’t just a tweak in policy. It’s a recalibration of the platform’s priorities, with far-reaching implications for advertisers, users, and society itself.
Mark Zuckerberg’s decision to loosen speech restrictions, discontinue Meta’s professional fact-checking partnerships, and rely more heavily on user-driven content moderation represents a significant pivot. According to statements from Meta and reporting by The New York Times and Axios:
While these changes are framed as efforts to restore free expression, they also open the door to a rise in divisive and harmful content.
For advertisers, these changes bring new risks. When professional fact-checking is removed, and moderation standards are relaxed, the potential for ads to appear alongside harmful content increases. Consider:
These are not far-fetched scenarios but plausible outcomes in an environment where content moderation is scaled back, as seen with other platforms that made similar moves.
Some brands may believe they can weather this storm, prioritizing reach and performance metrics over brand safety. But history offers a cautionary tale. When X reduced its moderation efforts after Elon Musk’s acquisition, many advertisers pulled their budgets, citing concerns about brand safety and user trust. The platform has since struggled to recover its advertising revenue.
Meta’s scale and influence may insulate it to some degree, but advertisers must weigh whether the short-term benefits of staying outweigh the long-term risks to their reputation.
This isn’t just a business issue. It’s a societal one.
Without professional fact-checkers, misinformation spreads faster and further. User-driven systems, while participatory, are often slower to respond to falsehoods and can be manipulated by bad actors. The result? A digital environment where truth becomes harder to discern, affecting public health, elections, and social cohesion.
Relaxed hate speech policies may embolden those who wish to harass or marginalize vulnerable groups. While Meta insists it will still act against illegal and severe violations, advocacy groups have expressed concerns that more permissive policies could lead to increased harassment and threats both online and offline.
By stepping back from moderation, Meta risks enabling environments where the loudest or most inflammatory voices dominate. This shifts the burden of accountability onto users and advertisers, raising questions about the platform’s role in shaping public discourse.
Meta’s policy changes are not happening in a vacuum. They reflect broader political and regulatory dynamics. By aligning its policies with the priorities of the incoming Trump administration, Meta may be seeking to mitigate scrutiny and secure its position amid growing antitrust and regulatory pressures.
This strategic alignment isn’t without precedent; tech companies often adjust their stances based on the prevailing political climate. However, the implications of these decisions extend far beyond Meta’s business interests.
The path forward is clear: stakeholders must act to hold Meta accountable for the societal consequences of its decisions.
Advertisers should demand transparency and accountability. If Meta cannot guarantee brand safety and a commitment to responsible content moderation, it may be time to reevaluate ad spend.
Consumers have power. Support brands that stand for inclusivity and accountability. Boycott platforms and businesses that prioritize profit over societal well-being.
Governments especially in Europe and around the word must ensure that platforms like Meta remain accountable for their role in spreading misinformation and harmful content. Transparency in algorithms and moderation policies is essential for maintaining public trust.
Meta’s speech overhaul is more than a business decision—it’s a cultural shift with consequences that could reshape the digital landscape.
For advertisers, the question is whether you will stand by and fund this shift or demand better. For society, the question is whether we will let this moment pass or use it as a rallying cry for greater accountability and inclusivity.
The choice is ours. Silence isn’t neutral—it’s complicity. If we want a future where truth matters and brands thrive in environments of trust, the time to act is now.
