Derek Yueh
Partnership Lead, The B2B Institute
Is “be authentic” the most overused—and least useful—advice in marketing?
In an online world mediated by scripts and spin, ‘authenticity’ has become the industry’s favorite incantation, a kind of fairy dust marketers imagine they can sprinkle on any piece of content to help it better resonate. From industry panels, to podcasts, to LinkedIn thought leadership posts, it’s hard to find another marketing buzzword so simultaneously overused yet underexamined. It’s easy to see why when you look at the research:
But authenticity has a paradoxical quirk: it evaporates the moment it’s deployed with intent. No wonder 92% of marketers believe the content they create is authentic yet only 51% of consumers agree.
That gap exists because authenticity isn’t something marketers can reverse-engineer; it’s something audiences confer. The performance only “reads” as authentic if it doesn’t feel like a performance—which becomes impossible the moment a camera is on and a message is at stake.
Which forces a Copernican recalibration: brands aren’t the center of the universe defining what’s authentic, but just one of many orbiting bodies, subject to the audience’s judgment.
Which is why “be more authentic” might be the most unhelpful advice in marketing. You can’t manufacture a quality you don’t control. Once you accept this, the question stops being “How do we become more authentic?” and becomes “How do we navigate the zone of permissible authenticity?” Strike the balance, and authenticity becomes a shortcut to trust; miss it, and you fall into the brand hellscape of audience scrutiny.
Consider the crying CEO who went viral on LinkedIn. This man was convinced he was offering the world raw vulnerability but instead learned what happens when you overshare in the wrong register. The audience found it too intimate for LinkedIn yet too curated for confession. He stepped outside the unspoken Zone of Permissible Authenticity and triggered public response that only reinforced how unforgiving those boundaries are.
This is the first cost of authenticity: misalignment. Genuine emotion in the wrong frame feels performative. A candid moment in the wrong forum feels calculated. Once the calibration is off, audiences don’t simply disengage; they sharpen their pitchforks.
The more interesting cost (that’s rarely discussed) is that getting authenticity right also comes with a bill. That’s the con: authenticity generates goodwill, but it’s the kind that traps you in a moral contract that's impossible to uphold forever.
Take Dove’s “Real Beauty” campaign. It built enormous cultural goodwill because it felt authentic, empowering, and most importantly, rare. But that goodwill proved fragile when audiences juxtaposed it with its sibling brand Axe, often criticized for its depictions of women in their ads. What looked like moral leadership suddenly felt like moral contradiction.
This is the second cost: the pedestal effect. The more authority you build, the more your brand is held to a higher standard.
Recently, a new twist has emerged in the authenticity discourse: it's no longer just a virtue signal, but also an algorithmic one.
Marketers are now being told that “authentic” content— real voices, real discussion, real human interaction—is more likely to be cited by LLMs. The logic seems intuitive on the surface: if language models learn from human conversation, then content that looks like conversation must be a stronger signal.
But this is a classic case of mistaking the symptom for the cause. LLMs don’t actually reward authenticity but rather relevance, content that clearly answers a question, articulates a concept, or expresses an idea in a way that can be easily extracted and reused. Some of that content just so happens to feel authentic because it’s written plainly, directly, and with conviction.
When marketers try to reverse-engineer authenticity by manufacturing discussion, prompting debate, simulating “real” engagement, they might be optimizing for the surface signals of conversation while unknowingly diluting the underlying signal of relevance. In fact, LinkedIn posts most frequently cited by LLMs show only modest engagement at best, sometimes just a few dozen reactions and only a single comment. So don’t just water the leaves and wonder why the roots are still dry.
If authenticity is this easy to misfire, even when you get it “right”, what exactly are brands supposed to do?
This brings us to the current stage of the authenticity cycle: the performance of the anti-performance. Perhaps what human audiences are actually rewarding isn’t sincerity itself, but the absence of visible effort to manufacture it.
That’s why formats like Hot Ones, Chicken Shop Date, and Subway Takes thrive. (The B2B equivalent just might be The Uncensored CMO.) They’re not anti-PR, but rather a new mutation of PR. The content may appear chaotically authentic, but the chaos is carefully engineered within safe, camera-ready boundaries. The wings are hot, the questions are blunt, but the boundaries are meticulously controlled.
If authenticity is dangerous and expensive, what is a marketer to do in this brave new world? Authenticity works best neither as output nor input, but as an infrastructure: a set of constraints that allows for human unpredictability without sacrificing coherence, control, or credibility.
Learn more about the B2B Institute’s 2026 Trends for the Contrarian Marketer here .
Source: Hawkpartners, ARF Social Council, Stackla, Social Media Today
Danielle Hydro, B2B Institute
Global Research Lead at LinkedIn
Vita Molis
Head of B2Bi Editorial
Authenticity's Tightrope