Is Authenticity Dead or Just Evolving in the Wrong Direction?

Why we can’t afford to dismiss authenticity in the age of AI, deepfakes, and algorithmic influence.

There’s a conversation rippling across the internet right now: Is authenticity over?Brittany Hennessy, bestselling author and one of the sharpest thinkers in influencer strategy, recently posed the question in a bold, clear-eyed piece. Drawing from Sprout Social data, she points out that only 35 percent of Gen Z consumers say they value “authenticity” in influencers. Compare that to over 50 percent of Millennials, Gen X, and Boomers, and her thesis lands. Authenticity might be aging out. And younger audiences? They’re not looking for resonance. They’re looking for entertainment.

Let me say this upfront. I respect Brittany’s lens. Her voice is sharp, informed, and rooted in the reality of how digital influence operates. And yes, the data tracks. But we can’t conflate observation with endorsement. Not every cultural shift deserves our alignment. Just because something is happening doesn’t mean it should be.

What We’re Actually Talking About When We Say “Authenticity”

Authenticity has never just been about stripped-down storytelling or aesthetic vulnerability. It’s not tone. It’s infrastructure. The connective tissue that makes trust possible. The alignment between what we value and what we express. It’s what builds credibility, creates meaning, and sustains community.

Across every tradition and cultural inflection point, authenticity has carried weight. It has been the currency of spiritual clarity, political legitimacy, artistic depth, social progress, and personal agency. Remove it, and we’re not just losing a vibe. We’re forfeiting accountability, coherence, and cultural integrity.

The Context the Data Can’t Hold

Sprout’s numbers reflect a consumer mood. But what’s missing is the mechanism. This isn’t about Gen Z being shallow. It’s about the systems they’re operating inside.

They’ve come of age in curated chaos. Filtered feeds. Engineered virality. A media diet where irony substitutes for identity and nothing feels real unless it’s self-aware.

They’ve watched authenticity become a sales strategy. Vulnerability turned into a growth hack. Emotional storytelling repackaged as clickbait.

They’re being served strangers, not stories. On TikTok, Instagram Reels, and even YouTube Shorts, content discovery happens algorithm-first, not relationship-first. And when you're watching someone you don’t follow, how can you really know if it’s authentic?

What’s new isn’t the desire to influence-it’s the demand for constant, quantifiable validation.
Influence has always been measured-radio had Tapscan, TV had Nielsen, and print relied on audited circulation and ad sales. But measurement back then was a supporting function, not the driving force. Success was felt first, then backed by numbers.
Now, performance is the prerequisite. Creators are expected to quantify their impact down to the decimal-across platforms that flatten context, reward sameness, and optimize for output over presence.

Brittany asks the sharper question: If content performs, does authenticity still matter? It’s a fair ask in an industry driven by views and conversions. But when performance becomes the only metric, we’re not influencing-we’re optimizing. And optimization without trust doesn’t create resonance. It just manufactures reach.

But here’s the bigger question: What happens to culture when we stop expecting authenticity altogether?

The Slow Collapse of “They Said It...”

There’s a larger breakdown here, one that’s not about influencers, but about truth itself.

Once, “They said it on the news” meant something had been vetted, edited, confirmed. Then it became, “They said it online,” still communal but less authoritative. Now? “They said it on TikTok.” And that can carry the same weight as a verified headline, minus the verification.

The phrase “They said it” has always been shorthand for cultural authority. Today, we’ve democratized access, but we’ve also diluted trust. The cost is a generation that is critically aware, wildly creative, deeply skeptical, and constantly vulnerable to misinformation, manipulation, and detachment.

Authenticity Isn’t a Trend. It’s a Tether.

This isn’t about nostalgia. Culture evolves. Values shift. Technology accelerates. But when we treat authenticity like an outdated aesthetic or a disposable norm, we’re not just rebranding marketing. We’re rewriting how we engage with the world.

Because if we no longer care who is speaking, or why they’re speaking, or whether what they’re saying is even real, we’re not just changing influence. We’re unmooring identity, leadership, and social meaning.

We Don’t Need to Go Back. But We Do Need to Look Ahead.

So no, authenticity isn’t dead. But we are letting go of it too easily. And the next cultural reckoning might show us just how dangerous that loss really is.

Because when we trade authenticity for performance, we don’t just shift our strategy. We gut our credibility. We train audiences to respond to the loudest signal, not the truest one. And if we don’t correct that, we’ll end up with reach but no resonance, content but no connection, influence but no trust.