The Quiet Rebellion of Becoming a Maker in a World of Shoppers
They told you who you were in price tags.
Your taste? That’s your streaming algorithm. Your vibe? It’s your sneakers, your iPhone case, your skincare routine. Your tribe? It’s who you follow, what you order, what you wear.
We used to introduce ourselves with names. Now we do it with brands. We all try to create our personal brands and interact with them.
And it’s no accident. Because if they can convince you that identity lives in the checkout cart, they never have to teach you how to create your own.
The Subtle Lie of Lifestyle
Capitalism doesn’t just sell things. It sells selves. Curated. Packaged. Predictable.
You don’t like oat milk. You’re an Oat Milk Person™. You didn’t just go to Burning Man. You are Burning Man. You didn’t just buy a Tesla. You bought virtue, tech-savviness, and status in one click.
But here’s the catch: Consumption is hollow. No matter how much you buy, you’re always left with more craving than clarity.
Because deep down, we all know:
You don’t become someone by choosing between flavors. You become someone when you build something real.
Creation: The Lost Mirror
When was the last time you made something that wasn’t for likes or money? A story. A garden. A tool. A ritual. A real moment of care that couldn’t be posted?
We’ve forgotten the texture of selfhood that comes from effort. From choosing your own inputs. From sitting in the friction of making.
Because building is slow. Messy. Unmonetized. Which is exactly why it’s yours.
You Are Not a Brand. You Are a Builder.
We’ve been trained to curate ourselves like storefronts. But your soul isn’t a product page.
You are not the shoes you saved up for. You are the conversation you started. You are the community you shaped. You are the words you strung together when you didn’t know if they’d land. You are the thing you made when no one was watching.
That is identity.
Not what you signal. What you sow.
A Personal Vow
I don’t want to be remembered for what I owned. I want to be remembered for what I offered. I want my life to be proof that I made something out of the chaos— even if it didn’t scale. Even if it didn’t sell. Even if no one clapped.
Because in a world designed to reduce us to shoppers,
creation is a quiet form of rebellion.
You are not what you buy. You are what you build.
Don’t forget that. Everything else is advertising and nonsense!
Adidas didn’t run a campaign. They performed a ritual: — Erase the sacred — Replace it with spectacle, replace it with nonsense — Watch the cameras roll
Art Gets Denied. Ads Get Airspace.
Oscar-nominated director Yorgos Lanthimos was denied access to film at the Acropolis. But Adidas? They get prime time, front row to eternity—no questions asked.
Because in this new Greece: If you tell stories, you wait. If you sell shoes, the sky is yours.
Who’s Really Behind the Curtain?
Let’s be clear: Adidas didn’t do this alone. They had help—from the local agency and brand teams who knew the terrain, looped the loopholes, and signed off.
Let’s name what this is: Cultural laundering.
They didn’t just drop drones. They laundered visibility through heritage—and turned sacred space into a hype reel.
To the Greek agency who helped this happen: You didn’t elevate the brand. You sold your history for a case study.
To the marketers who called this visionary: You don’t understand legacy. You understand reach.
This Wasn’t Creativity. It Was Cowardice.
Agencies love to posture about purpose, storytelling, culture. But when faced with power, they fold.
Because it’s easier to fly a logo over the Acropolis than to build meaning that lasts.
The Real Cost of the Campaign
€380. That’s all it took to dim the light of Athena.
That’s not clever. That’s not disruptive. That’s desperate.
If we sell our myths for the price of a sneaker, What will we have left When the batteries die?
The gods didn’t leave us. We traded them.
For impressions. For metrics. For branded content.
The Parthenon glows now—not with truth or triumph—but with product.
So maybe the sneaker in the sky dominating the news today was no accident. Maybe this is a way to deflect public opinions. Maybe it’s just branding catching up with politics. A culture where everything sacred is for sale, and everyone with power is off the record.
The question is no longer “How did this happen?” It’s:
What haven’t we sold yet?If our myths, monuments, and morals are all for sale—what does it even mean to be a nation?
Jaguar’s failed rebrand reveals more than bad creative. It exposes the cowardice of brand leadership.
Jaguar’s latest campaign said, “Copy Nothing.” But what they launched copied one thing perfectly: the corporate tradition of blaming the agency when leadership gets it wrong.
No cars. No curves. No roar. Just abstract visuals, minimalist slogans, and a branding exercise so out of touch, even Elon Musk publicly mocked it. The campaign was lambasted as empty, confusing, and emotionally tone-deaf. A luxury car brand… that showed no cars.
This isn’t about a bad campaign. This is about a broken model—one where agencies are hired as scapegoats, not strategic partners.
In today’s brand world, storytelling is strategy. The brief is the vision. If that vision is flawed, no amount of creative genius can salvage it. You can’t out-art direct a confused identity.
And Jaguar’s identity right now? A luxury brand sprinting toward electric futurism while ghosting its legacy, its product, and its soul.
What did they expect the agency to do—turn vapor into velocity?
When the Brief Is Rotten, the Brand Fails
Let’s be clear: agencies aren’t perfect. But they don’t control the product, the pricing, or the internal politics. They don’t choose whether the car appears in the campaign. That comes from the client.
Gap’s rebrand? Same story—designers got burned, execs stayed quiet.
Tropicana’s disaster? Agencies got the blame, even though the client forced the change.
Agencies don’t greenlight madness. They’re handed it.
The Cowardice of Creative Blame
What we’re watching isn’t just a brand misstep. It’s a case study in corporate cowardice. A company trying to reinvent itself—without the courage to own its decisions.
The truth? Jaguar’s problem isn’t the ad agency. It’s that the people steering the ship don’t know what destination they’re heading toward—so they blame the compass when they get lost.
A New Standard for Brand Leadership
We need to stop letting executives escape through the back door while their agencies are thrown under the bus.
If you brief it, own it. If you approve it, stand by it. If you kill it, don’t outsource the executioner.
Because marketing isn’t a magic trick. It’s an expression of vision. And when a rebrand collapses, it’s not the messenger who failed—it’s the strategist who didn’t know what they stood for.
Final Words:
If the story sucks, don’t shoot the storyteller. Fire the author.
“Empathy is not a nice-to-have. It’s not a soft skill. It’s the one thing separating a society that thrives from one that tears itself apart.”
Think about the last time you truly felt heard. Not just acknowledged. Not just nodded at. But heard—on a level where someone didn’t just understand your words but understood you.
Now ask yourself—how often does that happen?
We live in a world that celebrates logic, efficiency, and data. Numbers drive decisions. Spreadsheets justify actions. Policies are built on economic forecasts, not lived experiences. But here’s the problem: when we ignore empathy, when we forget that real people are at the heart of every decision, we create systems that may function well on paper but fail spectacularly in practice.
Empathy isn’t a weakness. It’s not some feel-good concept that belongs in TED Talks and therapy rooms. It’s the secret ingredient of leadership, the cornerstone of good policy, the difference between a brand people tolerate and a brand people love. And yet, we continue to undervalue it.
Why?
Why Do We Keep Pushing Empathy Aside?
The world rewards decisiveness, strength, and results. It tells leaders: “Make the hard choices. Stick to the data. Don’t let emotions cloud your judgment.” And sure, numbers matter. Efficiency matters. But when they come at the expense of human connection, we create a world where:
Politicians craft policies that look great in reports but devastate communities.
CEOs chase profits without realizing they’re crushing the morale of the people keeping their company alive.
Brands pour millions into marketing but fail to actually understand their customers.
This isn’t about being soft. It’s about being smart. Because a world without empathy is a world where people feel disconnected—from their leaders, from their jobs, from each other. And when that happens, trust erodes. Loyalty disappears. Progress stalls.
What Happens When Empathy Goes Missing?
Let’s be real: we’re seeing the effects of empathy’s decline everywhere.
In politics: Leaders who talk, but don’t listen. Voters who feel unheard and turn to extremes. Policies built for efficiency, not for people.
In business: Companies that optimize everything—except human experience. Employees who feel like numbers. Customers who are just data points.
In society: Conversations that feel more like battles. Social media debates where the goal isn’t understanding—it’s winning. A world where compassion feels like a liability.
When empathy disappears, society doesn’t collapse overnight. It just starts to fray—slowly, quietly—until one day, we look around and wonder how we got here.
The Leaders Who Get It Right
Now, let’s flip the script.
What do the most respected leaders have in common? What makes certain politicians, CEOs, and cultural icons stand out?
They connect. They listen. They understand not just what people say—but what they mean.
Take @barackobama, for example. Whether you agreed with his politics or not, his ability to connect with people was undeniable. He made people feel seen. He understood that facts alone don’t move people—stories do. Connection does.
Or think about the brands that people love—not just tolerate. The ones that don’t just sell products, but make you feel something Nike. Patagonia. They don’t just talk at you. They get you.
That’s not an accident. That’s empathy.
So, What Do We Do?
If we want a world where leadership actually serves people, where businesses actually understand customers, where conversations actually bring us closer instead of pushing us apart, we need to stop treating empathy like a footnote.
Here’s how:
Redefine Strength. Being “tough” doesn’t mean ignoring emotions. It means understanding them—and making decisions with that understanding in mind.
Make Listening the First Step, Not the Last. Before leaders make policies, before businesses launch products, before we hit “send” on that email—pause. Listen first. Because the best decisions come from understanding, not assumptions.
Reward Connection. Right now, we measure success by profits, efficiency, and speed. But what if we also measured how well we connect? What if we valued emotional intelligence as much as technical skills?
The Bottom Line
Empathy isn’t optional. It’s not a side note. It’s the foundation of everything that works in society.
Great leaders? Empathy. Great businesses? Empathy. Great relationships, great movements, great change? It all starts with one thing: the ability to understand and care about someone who isn’t you.
So let’s stop treating empathy like an afterthought. Let’s stop acting like logic and emotion are enemies. Because if we really want to move forward—not just efficiently, but meaningfully—we need to start putting empathy back where it belongs: at the center of everything we do.
Because progress isn’t just about moving forward. It’s about moving forward together.
Imagine a world where every thought, every desire, and every aspiration you’ve ever had was subtly planted in your mind—not by friends, family, or personal experience, but by carefully crafted advertisements you’ve been exposed to since birth. What if your concept of happiness, beauty, or success wasn’t truly your own? This is the world we live in, and the consequences are profound.
Image from free pic
The Unseen Influence: How Ads Build Our Baseline Desires
By the time the average person turns 18, they’ve seen over 2 million advertisements. These aren’t just fleeting images; they’re a systematic programming of our desires and beliefs. Advertising doesn’t just sell products; it sells ideals, aspirations, and a vision of how life “should” be.
For example, consider the iconic Coca-Cola holiday ads. They don’t just promote a beverage; they equate drinking Coke with the joy and magic of the holiday season. Repeated exposure to such messaging subtly shifts our emotional connection to brands, associating them with life’s most meaningful moments. Over time, these narratives construct a baseline—a mental framework of what “normal” looks like.
The Hijacking of Identity and Individuality
One of advertising’s most insidious effects is how it co-opts individuality. In a world where self-expression is commodified, choices that feel personal often stem from a menu of pre-packaged options.
Take fashion, for instance. Global campaigns by brands like Nike or Gucci promise uniqueness, yet their mass appeal ensures conformity within narrowly defined boundaries.
Normalizing Consumerism: The Birth of Eternal Dissatisfaction
By normalizing a culture of consumption, advertisements perpetuate a cycle of perpetual dissatisfaction. Every product promises a solution to a problem you didn’t know you had.
For example, beauty ads often highlight perceived flaws—wrinkles, acne, or dull skin—that require their products to fix. This strategy keeps fulfillment always just one purchase away.
A striking example is the rise of fast fashion. Brands like Zara and H&M churn out trends at breakneck speed, convincing consumers that last month’s clothing is outdated. This has not only environmental consequences but also psychological ones, fostering a mindset where nothing is ever enough.
The Algorithmic Amplification
In the digital age, advertising’s impact has intensified exponentially. Platforms like Instagram and TikTok use algorithms to deliver hyper-targeted ads, exploiting individual vulnerabilities and these tailored messages are far more effective than traditional methods.
Consider the rise of influencer marketing.
When a celebrity or influencer seamlessly integrates a product into their content, the line between authenticity and advertisement blurs. For young minds, this constant exposure creates a distorted sense of reality, where curated perfection becomes the norm.
Can We Break Free?
Understanding the cumulative psychological impact of advertising is the first step toward reclaiming our autonomy. Awareness allows us to question our desires: “Do I really want this, or have I been taught to want it?” It’s a question that can feel unsettling but is essential in untangling personal identity from corporate influence.
One actionable step is fostering media literacy. Teaching children and adults to analyze advertisements critically can empower them to recognize manipulative tactics. For instance, breaking down how ads use colours, emotions, and scarcity to create urgency can demystify their power. Governments and schools should also prioritize stricter regulations and educational programs to reduce the early and pervasive impact of ads.
As we navigate an era of algorithm-driven advertising, the stakes have never been higher
Advertisements don’t just shape what we buy; they shape who we are. They redefine what we consider beautiful, successful, and worthy—often without our conscious consent. By understanding and addressing this cumulative impact, we can begin to dismantle the hidden architecture of desire and reclaim the freedom to define our own values.
The question we must ask ourselves is this: Are we making choices that reflect our true selves, or are we merely acting on impulses carefully cultivated by an industry that profits from our longing? The answer holds the key to a more authentic and fulfilling existence.
Have you ever realized how deeply an advertisement influenced your choices?
Advertising has always wielded an extraordinary ability to influence perceptions, shape desires, and even create societal norms. But in an age where mental health among young people is in crisis—a phenomenon thoroughly explored in Jonathan Haidt’s The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood Is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness—advertisers must confront their role in either deepening this crisis or being part of the solution.
Haidt’s analysis reveals a stark reality: the widespread adoption of smartphones, social media, and addictive online gaming has “rewired” childhood. This seismic shift, which he dubs “The Great Rewiring of Childhood,” has replaced outdoor play and face-to-face interactions with screen time, leaving children increasingly isolated, vulnerable, and mentally fragile. These conditions provide fertile ground for advertising to both exacerbate and potentially alleviate mental health struggles.
Amplifying Anxiety: How Advertising Contributes to the Problem
Haidt’s research underscores how smartphones and social media, the primary platforms for modern advertising, fuel harmful social comparisons. Teens—particularly girls—are disproportionately affected. The constant stream of curated perfection, from influencers to brand campaigns, reinforces unattainable ideals and intensifies feelings of inadequacy. Studies cited in The Anxious Generation reveal that teenage girls who spend significant time on social media are three times more likely to develop depression. The parallels between these findings and the tactics many advertisers employ are difficult to ignore.
Advertising often preys on these vulnerabilities. Fear-of-missing-out (FOMO) strategies, the glorification of unattainable lifestyles, and the bombardment of “limited-time offers” and the Yolo lifestyle, along with many influencers tap into the very insecurities Haidt identifies as key drivers of teenage mental illness. The constant stream of curated perfection, from influencers to brand campaigns, reinforces unattainable ideals and intensifies feelings of inadequacy. Campaigns designed to exploit anxieties about beauty, success, or social standing can inadvertently (or intentionally) reinforce the “self-esteem crushing vortex” of social media.
Haidt notes that adolescence is a critical stage of emotional and social development. During this period, constant exposure to shallow online interactions and relentless social comparison—both exacerbated by advertising—can be particularly damaging. Smartphones, as Haidt describes, are “experience blockers,” displacing enriching activities and in-person connections with digital engagement that advertisers fuel with precision targeting.
Advertising as an Alleviator: Opportunities for Positive Impact
Despite its complicity, advertising also holds tremendous potential to address and mitigate the very mental health challenges it has helped perpetuate. Haidt emphasizes the need for systemic solutions, including reducing screen time and creating healthier developmental environments. Advertisers can align with these goals by promoting messages that empower, uplift, and foster genuine connection.
Campaigns such as Dove’s “Real Beauty” and initiatives like the Headspace demonstrate how advertising can counteract harmful cultural norms. By challenging narrow standards of beauty or promoting mental wellness, these campaigns resonate with Haidt’s call for a healthier and more balanced childhood. They also showcase how advertising can foster resilience, inclusivity, and self-acceptance.
Haidt also argues for societal interventions, such as school phone bans and raising the age of internet adulthood to 16. Advertisers could amplify these efforts by supporting initiatives that prioritize mental well-being. For example, brands could create campaigns that advocate for screen-free zones or emphasize the value of face-to-face interactions.
Ethical Advertising in the Age of Anxiety
Haidt’s research provides an urgent reminder that the mental health crisis among young people is a societal issue that demands a collective response.Advertising, as a cultural force, could be part of the solution. The industry must rethink how it leverages emotional targeting, shifting from tactics that exploit insecurities to those that inspire hope and connection.
Haidt’s The Anxious Generation is both a dire warning and a call to action
It challenges all of us—policymakers, parents, educators, and advertisers—to confront the systemic factors driving this mental health crisis. For advertisers, this means recognizing their unique power to influence culture and using it responsibly.
The stories advertising tells about beauty, success, and belonging matter deeply, especially to impressionable adolescents navigating a “phone-based” world. By aligning their strategies with Haidt’s recommendations and focusing on the well-being of their audiences, advertisers can help rewrite the narrative. In doing so, they can contribute to a generation that is not defined by anxiety but by resilience, connection, and empowerment.
This is the moment for the advertising industry to choose: amplify anxiety or alleviate it? The answer will shape not just campaigns, but the mental health of an entire generation.
The reckless consumerism of the 2020s has given way to something new. Every product on the shelf is regenerative, designed to heal the planet and rebuild communities. Every ad you see isn’t just a promise—it’s a commitment.
But this transformation didn’t come easily. It demanded innovation, courage, and a reckoning with the role advertising plays in shaping society.
Because when every product is sustainable, when every company claims to do good, how do brands stand out? How does advertising remain relevant, or even ethical?
The answer lies at the intersection of technology, transparency, and purpose. This is a future where advertising doesn’t just sell—it inspires. Where AI isn’t just a tool—it’s a force for accountability. And where the stories we tell don’t just move markets—they move humanity forward.
In 2035, advertising is no longer about selling products—it’s about building connections:
Connection to the Planet: Ads don’t just highlight features; they showcase how each purchase contributes to restoring ecosystems, from planting forests to cleaning oceans.
Connection to People: Brands celebrate equitable supply chains and fair labor practices, proving that every purchase supports communities.
Connection to Values: Consumers don’t align with brands for their logos anymore—they align for their leadership in solving humanity’s greatest challenges.
Advertising has always been about more than what we buy. It’s about who we are, what we stand for, and the world we want to leave behind. In this new era, every message must reflect that truth. Because in 2035, what we sell isn’t just a product—it’s a promise to each other and to the future.
AI has transformed advertising into something more precise, more accountable, and more inspiring than ever before. It’s no longer just about reaching audiences and being only cost-efficient —it’s about understanding them in ways that drive meaningful action.
Here’s how AI shapes the advertising industry in 2035:
Hyper-Personalized Storytelling AI doesn’t just create ads—it creates experiences. Every consumer sees a message tailored to their values, their behaviors, and even their emotional state. A single product ad might tell thousands of stories, each uniquely crafted to resonate deeply.
Dynamic Transparency AI-powered ads provide real-time updates on sustainability metrics. Tap on a clothing ad, and you’ll see its entire lifecycle: where the cotton was grown, how the factory was powered, and how the garment will be recycled when you’re done with it.
Immersive Campaigns With AI and augmented reality, brands create ads that immerse consumers in their impact. Imagine trying on a pair of shoes virtually and watching as forests are replanted in your name.
Radical Transparency: The New Standard
In 2035, trust is everything. Advertising isn’t just about what a product can do—it’s about what it means. Transparency is no longer optional; it’s mandated. Every ad must disclose:
The Product’s Lifecycle: From raw materials to end-of-life disposal.
Social Impact: How workers were treated and how communities benefit.
Regenerative Metrics: The exact carbon offset, water saved, or biodiversity restored by a purchase.
Imagine an ad for a smartphone:
Tap the screen, and you’ll see how its recycled components were sourced, the renewable energy powering its production, and the programs it funds to bridge the digital divide in underserved areas.
This isn’t just marketing—it’s accountability and it’s demanded by law from all the governments in our planet
The Consequences of Complacency
But not every brand has leaped. Those who cling to outdated strategies have faded into irrelevance. Greenwashing in 2035 isn’t just unethical—it’s illegal. Brands that fail to deliver on their promises don’t just lose trust—they disappear.
The companies that thrive in this new world are the ones willing to lead—to take risks, to innovate, and to stand for something greater than profit. Because in 2035, doing the right thing isn’t just good business—it’s the only business that matters.
The Role of Advertising in 2035
Advertising in 2035 isn’t about selling dreams—it’s about building futures. It’s about creating movements that inspire people to act, to invest in a better world, and to demand more from the companies they support.
This isn’t just a shift in marketing—it’s a shift in culture.
Picture this:
A furniture company’s ad invites you to a virtual experience where you can explore the forests they’ve rewilded through your purchases.
A clothing brand runs a campaign offering a subscription for jeans that are repaired, recycled, and replaced—ensuring nothing ends up in a landfill.
These aren’t just ads—they’re promises of a world where business and sustainability work hand in hand.
The stakes have never been higher.
The Advertising Crossroads: Adapt or Become Obsolete
For advertisers, the choice is stark: evolve or vanish. The landscape of advertising has transformed fundamentally by 2035—it’s no longer about mere persuasion, but about creating meaningful platforms for progress.
Each campaign now represents more than a marketing effort; it’s a catalyst for change. Advertisers have the power to educate, inspire, and empower consumers, guiding them towards choices that resonate with their deepest values. But this transformation hinges on a critical element: trust.
The fundamental challenge isn’t about technological innovation or narrative craft. It’s about rebuilding genuine connection in an age of unprecedented transparency and AI-driven precision. Can brands reimagine their role from sellers to partners in collective progress?
The pathway forward demands extraordinary courage. Ethical action is no longer a optional strategy—it’s the fundamental currency of relevance. Brands must recognize that their impact extends far beyond product sales; they are architects of societal transformation.
In 2035, every product is more than a commodity. It’s a promise—to consumers, to communities, to our shared planet. The brands that don’t just make this promise, but fully embody it, will do more than survive. They will be the architects of our collective future.
The choice is clear: Evolve with purpose, or be left behind.
