Why AI-Generated Creativity Feels So Hollow; And Why Real Human Stories Still Win

Every few weeks a new “AI for creatives” platform pops up on LinkedIn, each one declaring that they’re about to revolutionize filmmaking, production, branding, whatever. The latest one I stumbled on compared themselves to Palantir for the creative suite — forward-deployed engineers, pipeline mapping, asset cleansing, the whole nine yards.

And look… it’s impressive on paper. But here’s the problem:

A lot of these tools fundamentally misunderstand why people connect to creative work in the first place.

We’re now flooded with AI-generated ads of brands floating through volcanoes, luxury products orbiting nebulas, or perfume bottles drifting through some synthetic dream void. And none of it feels real. None of it feels lived-in. None of it feels like anything a human being has ever actually experienced.

It’s “creativity” without context — spectacle with no soul.

Meanwhile, the campaigns people actually remember — the ones that stick with you — are simple. Two friends clinking glasses. A family gathered around a dinner table. Somebody’s eyes lighting up during a quiet moment. Real texture. Real humanity. Real stakes.

There’s a reason those stories endure:

They’re made by humans, for humans.

AI is incredible as a tool. It accelerates workflows. It cleans data. It can help structure messy brand assets or spark ideas you might not have gotten to on your own. But when companies have the resources to create something honest, something cinematic, something rooted in real emotion… and they choose instead to generate something empty just because it’s faster?

That’s when we lose the plot.

Audiences aren’t craving more content. They’re craving more connection.

And the studios, brands, and creators who lean into that — who actually show up with intention, craft, and perspective — are the ones who will stand out in a world drowning in synthetic sameness.

AI can assist.

AI can accelerate.

But it can’t replace the feeling of a real moment.

And that’s where the future of creative work still lives.