Some time ago, a client came to me facing what seemed like a thousand decisions: where to live, which job to take, whom to love. As we worked together, those many paths narrowed to one persistent question: Am I loving the right person? Or, more precisely: Do I want to love this man, even if facts suggest I take other routes?
We live in a world that worships polish. Perfect photos on Instagram. Seamless podcasts with no awkward pauses. Articles that read like they've passed through a dozen editors. And now, with AI tools that can produce mistake-free writing in seconds, the bar feels even higher. Machines can generate flawless sentences, perfect grammar, and shiny ideas on demand. Meanwhile, I'm over here second-guessing a paragraph, rewriting the same sentence six different ways, and still wondering if "Best" or "Warmly" is the less awkward email sign-off.
When Brooklyn barbecue mainstay Fette Sau opened in a former auto garage in 2007, it drew immediate crowds: Customers in skinny jeans and thick-rimmed glasses lined up along Metropolitan Avenue for a chance to sit cheek-to-jowl on communal wooden benches and devour juicy pulled pork, sugary ribs, peppery pastrami, and slabs of fat-backed brisket cut to order with a rotating assortment of sides and high-caliber American whiskey.
Anshuman Dutta is a marketing director at . Influences global audiences on tech, identity and society. In an era of information overload and declining trust, one politician's communication strategy offers unexpected lessons for business marketers. Zohran Mamdani, a New York State Assembly member representing Astoria, Queens, and the mayor-elect of New York City, has built a devoted following not through compromise or moderation, but through radical clarity.
Formula 1: Drive to Survive, now in its seventh season, offers such remarkable access to the drivers and race directors that it boosts the TV audience for the actual races. Quarterback, a series that follows a handful of NFL players throughout a season, was so popular that it spawned Receiver - as well as a second season of QBs. Another show, The Clubhouse, followed the Boston Red Sox during a difficult season.
It was a revolutionary moment in cinema. This idea of indie film was born. Soderbergh and Richard Linklater, Spike Lee. Paul Thomas Anderson a little after. My story about Boogie Nights goes like this. So, some guy sends me a script. I never heard of the guy. I called him up and I go, Bro, are they gonna even let you make this movie?
Since the advent of the rave in the late 1980s, filmmakers have attempted to incorporate underground dance festivals into their works with varying degrees of success. Oliver Laxe has now graced us with a hypnotic party for the ages in "Sirāt," Spain's 2026 Oscar submission for international feature - a rave that isn't just eye candy but a central plot point, where a middle-age father (Sergi López) searches for his missing daughter as the world descends into chaos.
At first blush, a form like reality TV and a show like The Bachelor might seem like an odd subject for a show about breaking the rules. How is it even possible to cheat on a show where the mechanics of competition are simply trying to get the lead to like you? The more cynical-minded might ask, Isn't this all scripted by producers anyway?
What if he were faithful in his private life, despite publicly promoting infidelity? Such a scenario contains what many consider the main ingredients of hypocrisy: failing to practice privately what one preaches publicly. A study tested whether people would agree. It showed one group of people an article about Biderman that simply mentioned he had promoted adultery; a separate group saw the article with additional information that it had been discovered that Biderman was personally faithful in private.
In that moment, something clicked. I felt the rush and the relief of sudden emotional clarity. I think this came from seeing that my psychoanalyst, by not apologising to appease my anger, by not taking an easy way out of the conflict, by persisting in offering me her honest thoughts about what was going on in my mind and by bearing my struggle to take them in, was giving me an extremely rare and precious experience.
Millennials, the generation born between 1981 and 1996, have grown up in the middle of rapid technological advancements and societal changes. Their unique experiences and values have impacted several aspects of culture, from consumer behavior and communication styles to lifestyle choices and relationship trends. As a result, certain fads and practices that were once popular have fallen out of favor with this influential generation.
For many years, wagyu was at the top of the branding pyramid. On menus, the word was synonymous with a singular, ultra-high-quality type of imported beef from Japan. The meat was famously so marbled with fat that it could appear almost pale, and the specialized cows were so well-treated that the final, shockingly expensive cost seemed justified. But in recent years, with the rise of cross-bred wagyu cattle in the U.S., Australia and New Zealand,
pulls together research and different articles I've written over the years as a kind of anthology. Part contested history, part polemic on what it is about workwear that is so enduring, and how it's got the stage of de-facto uniform today. And then a little personal resonance -stories about silly things I got up to when wearing it. The book isn't too serious -it's meant to be approachable,
Take 'Park Terrace,' where he comes across as cool, fastidious, and reflective in the face of grandeur. There's tension brewing in the oscillating bells and onomatopoeic gunfire, a mafioso chill to the icy arpeggios and percussive jolts. Flexes come naturally in the lyrics, and so too do allusions to family. 'Always had to put my mama first/My folks always told me keep my word,' ladé spits earnestly.
Let's start with a confession: I've never been fully authentic for a single day in my life. Neither have you. I don't mean this as an accusation. I see it as fact. The relentless cultural message telling us to "be ourselves" might be the cruelest advice we've ever collectively accepted. It promises liberation but brings anxiety. Because here's what nobody mentions when they sell you authenticity as the path to enlightenment: being your full, unfiltered self would make you unemployable, unfriendable
What makes LinkedIn uniquely powerful is not just its scale but its authenticity. It is the only major social platform where most people are verifiably real - not bots, not burners, not pseudonyms. It holds the cleanest, most trustworthy identity graph on the internet: a network tied to real employers, real skills, real locations, and real career histories. This should have been LinkedIn's greatest advantage. It is the foundation every modern professional platform wishes it had.
Trust. Without it, every relationship disintegrates into dust. Today's workplace is being reshaped by forces that make trust harder to build and easier than ever to lose. Artificial intelligence is accelerating decision cycles. Hybrid work has reduced organic connection. And after years of economic volatility, employees are more skeptical of leadership notices and more sensitive to signs of inconsistency. We've become obsessed with automation without connection and conversations without intention. The result is reactive behavior that breeds short-term thinking and corrodes long-term reputation.
"Now where we're moving is actually a blend of creativity, because now it's a creator economy of authenticity that's coming out," she said on an Inc. panel for National Entrepreneurship Month (watch the session below). "Being able to tell stories like we did previously in the broadcast generation of ads, and then layering in the ability to actually measure that with data."
Being a CEO isn't just about leading meetings or setting strategy. It's about being the living, breathing example of what your company stands for. That role includes telling your story in a way that genuinely connects with people, both inside and outside the business. Leadership today demands more than numbers and goals. It calls for authenticity. A strong CEO brand isn't just a PR exercise; it's a chance to reflect the deeper purpose behind your company.
LinkedIn has long been recognized as the premier platform for professional networking, traditionally characterized by formal posts, polished resumes, and serious discussions around career growth. However, a growing trend is shifting this landscape and its algorithm: the rise of humor on LinkedIn. Users are increasingly embracing humor as a valuable tool to foster connections, showcase authenticity, and navigate evolving professional networking trends. Online users are progressively incorporating Linkedin humor posts into their content, marking a departure from strictly formal tones.
To be honest, people are saying "honestly" all the time. According to the Corpus of Historical American English, a database that measures word usage over time, the use of "honestly" has skyrocketed over the last 25 years. Not just in casual conversation: It's a signifier of online authenticity. "Honestly" is the name of the podcast by CBS News' new editor Bari Weiss, the title of a 2022 studio album by Drake, the name of a new AI journaling app and appended to a number of popular TikTok and Instagram accounts.
Our north star is deceptively simple: make great games that are authentic to Marvel, whether it's on console, PC, mobile or VR. The challenge is more complex: authenticity doesn't necessarily mean one-to-one fidelity to source or reference material, whether it's comics or animation or movies. It's much deeper in that we allow our collaborating teams to reimagine "familiar yet original" incarnations of our characters based on their own creative DNA, whether it's Insomniac Games with Marvel's Spider-Man or Marvel's Wolverine, NetEase with Marvel Rivals,
It is about feeling unseen. It is the quiet ache that surfaces when we are surrounded by people but still feel disconnected from ourselves. Emotional loneliness happens when we cannot bring our full selves into connection. We may have friends or partners, but we sense that parts of us are hidden. We edit what we say. We shrink what we feel. We keep the most tender parts of who we are safely tucked away.
Blogs, the dusty digital diaries of the early 2000s, were once places where individuals shared their thoughts, passions, and stories with the world. Back then, blogs were hubs of navel-gazing, authenticity, creativity, and personal connection. These online journals were also a breath of fresh air, offering a glimpse into the lives and minds of everyday people. But today, sadly, their purpose and function have become muddled.
"What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won't be the victim of needless suffering." ~Don Miguel Ruiz For most of my life, I didn't fully understand what projection was. I just knew I kept becoming the problem. I was "too much." Too intense. Too emotional. Thought too deeply. Spoke too plainly.
According to the 2025 Bentley University-Gallup poll published in May of this year, 51% of U.S. adults now believe companies should take a public stance on current social and political issues, a significant jump from just 38% in 2024. This is an interesting development at a time when companies face heightened scrutiny around sustainability and social commitments. However, a SmartNews survey released earlier this year shows that 90% of respondents question corporate messaging at least some of the time and 36% think company statements feel inauthentic.
Culture is how people connect. And as brands work to be seen as relevant, to build relationships with their communities, and to ride the visibility wave of trending topics, engaging in culture feels like a natural way to get in front of consumers. The problem? Not every brand gets it right. Even though participating in, and especially shaping culture, can be powerful when done well, the way brands show up doesn't always deliver the impact they intend.