Everyone’s creating something. Content. Campaigns. Brands. Posts. It’s never been easier to make something — and never harder to make something original. Not because we lack ideas, but because we rarely pause long enough to hear them.
We scroll past nuance. We save for later, but never return. We remix faster than we reflect. Somewhere along the way, creativity became a reaction — not a process.
Scroll through your favourite platform and you’ll notice something strange. Everything feels slightly familiar. Aesthetic brands. Feel-good fonts. Viral trends in different fonts. Even rebellion looks templated now.
This isn’t accidental. Algorithms reward patterns. Familiarity performs better than friction. So, we adapt. We design for the feed. We speak in formats. We create for reach instead of resonance.And slowly, originality erodes — not in one loud collapse, but in quiet repetition.
Sure, every idea is inspired by something. But that doesn’t mean everything must look the same. Originality doesn’t mean inventing something no one’s ever seen. It means combining what you’ve seen in a way only you would. That requires taste. Time. Stillness. A sense of self. It requires turning down the noise long enough to listen to what’s inside, not just what’s trending.
Creative teams today are under pressure to keep up — more output, faster cycles, endless performance reports. But not everything valuable is immediate. Not every idea worth pursuing comes in a brainstorm. Some ideas need a walk. Some need a week. Some don’t arrive on demand — they reveal themselves when you stop chasing them.
The truth? Most of what’s called “creative direction” today is just… direction. Real creativity is uncomfortable. It’s inconsistent. It’s inconvenient. But it’s the only kind worth remembering.
As creators, strategists, designers — whatever our title is — we’re not just producing. We’re shaping culture. And right now, culture doesn’t need more of the same. It needs people who are willing to pause, question, and create something real.
So no, originality isn’t dead. But it is quiet. And it’s waiting for you — off the feed.