First off, I hate the term content, but it's unequivocally won as the word for "stuff you post online," so here we are. Writers are content creators, artists are content creators, vloggers are content creators; shortform is content, longform is content. We're content-maxxing, and maybe even content-mogging. Whatever.
AI has changed the game by making content cheap. And there are many contexts in which slop performs quite well. Any section titled Trending or Viral will be sloshing with slop, because AI is a fast and effective way to make hyper-engaging content for a broad, low-end audience. Like fast food is stuffed with fat and salt and sugar, successful slop is studded with the emotional triggers that hook people's attention.
(Disclaimer: I don't think all AI-based creations are slop, but, as ever, Sturgeon's law reigns.)
Some people don't care as long as they are entertained. Some people do care but can't tell. Ironically, if you're so anti-AI that you refuse to try the tools, you may struggle to detect which top posts — or submissions for your literary prize! — were produced via AI.
I think authentic user-generated content still outstrips slop, overall? If not by volume, by attention allocation. But it's hard to be sure. In a consumer context, AI content is certainly competitively viable and racks up impressive numbers.
Of course, there are readers and viewers who can tell, and shake their heads ruefully, or grimace with disgust. But the other groups are large enough that the slop stream will not be quelled. Once in a while, backlash forces a particular company to stop using AI-generated assets, at least in public. Regardless of reputation risk, the cost savings tantalize like a second potato chip.
Here's the thing, though. Potato chips are delicious, but nobody is impressed by them. If you're hanging out at a friend's house and they open a bag of Lay's, you'll probably munch on them. But this won't be memorable. It won't prompt you to praise the friend's hospitality amongst your shared acquaintances. It won't make you choose their Halloween party over another invitation.
A big bag of potato chips is $5! Readily available at any grocery store! Providing it is trivial and says virtually nothing about the host. They have met the bare minimum standard. Which is worth doing — no snacks would be memorable, in a negative way. But the bare minimum doesn't provide an advantage against rivals.
Slop is abundant and low-value.
Cheap content is meaningless content. This was true even before AI came along to heighten the contradictions, back when slop had to be hand-crafted. But middle-of-the-barrel stuff used to be expensive to create and maintain:
If the website is grammatically correct, if there are periodic social posts, if the blog is active — these things show that the company has a certain level of funding and savvy, that it probably won't disappear tomorrow, and that the leadership is compelling enough to recruit a professional wordsmith.
Back when the em-dash didn't ring alarm bells 😣
Post-AI, to create the appearance of being A Legit Real Company, all you need is ctrl+c, ctrl+v. Hence that appearance means ~nothing. Anyone can prompt AI to write some bullshit or other. It's not a useful differentiator.
The world is still adjusting to this shift. My bet is that parasocial connections to genuine humans, who are costly to employ and therefore scarce, will grow all the more important. (In the medium term... in the long term, who knows, man.) The ability to be interesting in public remains valuable.
Many companies, especially in tech, seem too AI-pilled to grasp this. I'm job-searching at the moment, so I'm getting an eyeful of the state of my field. Everybody is gung-ho about "content systems," in which the human role is orchestration rather than direct creation. I'm not wholly opposed to that, given a heavy filter of human editorial judgment, plus extensive hands-on editing.
The thing is: Do typical stuff, get typical results. To get unusual results, you gotta do weird stuff. Which is another thing that was already true, but AI has made mere mediocrity more attainable; meanwhile, the scales have not fallen from middle managers' eyes.
Let's remember the actual point of commercial content:
Good marketing is like a song that gets stuck in your head. You remember a lyric fragment later, and look it up so you can add the song to your daily playlist. Of course, it has to be a song that feels good to listen to, not one that makes you groan when it comes on the grocery store loudspeaker. Being memorable is necessary — very necessary! — but not sufficient.
Ultimately, the goal is for your company to feel like the obvious choice. "Of course I will use that," prospective users should think when they encounter the problem that your product solves. To achieve this you need to establish familiarity, trust, and admiration. They know you, trust you'll solve their problem, and believe that associating with you will burnish their reputation.
Catching eyeballs is not enough. Gotta be the right eyeballs. Then you must deepen the relationship over time. Earning one glance only matters as the precursor to a sustained gaze.
Of course, I'm talking my book here. My whole career has been writing online, mostly as a marketer specializing in community development. Gradually I've moved into content strategy, AKA deciding what to say in addition to actually saying it.
In my expert opinion, a good host serves more than just potato chips.
If you've got a marketing budget and you want to throw a party worth attending, either metaphorically or literally, hit me up: hello@sonya.email 🫡
