Why trend decks are the biggest lie in advertising
If the answer was 'the metaverse' or 'NFTs', or 'a Labubu', then the question was likely about spotting a trend. Capitalism - and therefore advertising - loves them. But they're not always trends, and they're rarely the correct answer. Former futurologist Amy Kean looks at why being 'on trend' can often mean your advertising is off target.
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I’m a hypocrite. Fifteen years ago, I worked as a futurologist for an advertising agency, doing the same things I’m about to criticise.
But everyone’s a hypocrite, including you. Do you ever reprimand your kids for eating too much sugary crap, then binge on biscuits when they’re not watching? Or complain that everybody on LinkedIn is ‘cringe’ when just last week you posted how ‘delighted and humbled’ you were to announce a sideways promotion?
A society that doesn’t let people change their minds is doomed to choke on its own moral superiority.
See! You’re a hypocrite. But, as Michael Hallsworth argues in his excellent book The Hypocrisy Trap, we need to get better at showing hypocrites forgiveness, because a society that doesn’t let people change their minds is doomed to choke on its own moral superiority,
If ‘futurologist’ sounds sexy, let me reassure you, it wasn’t. My daily grind was trends decks; repurposing Wired articles, whacking SXSW showreels on PowerPoint slides, and telling clients to hop on board the innovation train. Except, in my decks, the innovation train probably wasn’t an actual train - how boring - it was a voice-powered hologrammatic cryptobus, which debuted at CES on the Microsoft stage. I ran a lab, made friends with start-ups and had hefty revenue targets. The goal? Use the future to sell shit. And lots of it.
Above: Michael Hallsworth's book The Hypocrisy Trap tells us we need to get better at showing hypocrites forgiveness.
The laws of capitalism state that once selling shit becomes your priority, ethics start to wane. As a futurologist, this left me feeling disillusioned. I was told to push new tech on clients like everybody’s lives depended on it. ‘Tell them it’s cool!’ ‘Tell them it’s the future!’. From the start-up community I was promised seamless tech experiences, unparalleled innovation and entire industrial revolutions; most of it lies. With names like Wiggli, Grabbr and MiShMaSh these two- or three-men bands would declare themselves the NEXT BIG THING without any real proof to quantify the ‘next’ nor the ‘big’. It was just lots of… things.
A conversation from that time stays with me. It was from a meeting with the CEO of an app that secretly scanned all the photos on people’s phones to spot patterns in their camera reel, enabling brands to send targeted ads on other apps. Without their consent. “It’s definitely legal!” he said. Although, if something’s morally dubious enough for you to proactively announce that it’s “definitely legal”, maybe you shouldn’t be doing it regardless. Like marrying your cousin.
With names like Wiggli, Grabbr and MiShMaSh these two- or three-men bands would declare themselves the NEXT BIG THING without any real proof to quantify the ‘next’ nor the ‘big’.
“Thanks for the demo!” I said. “But this probably isn’t for us. I’m not sure my clients would be on board.” “But I’m trying to help you,” he answered. “Because your boss isn’t gonna be too happy when he finds out that everyone else is using us and you’re not.” And there it was. The dying words of a grifter. Selling me hype and exaggerations and, when I wasn’t interested, threatening me with irrelevance.
Feel familiar? It should do, because it’s the behaviour peddled by numerous modern consultants whose livelihoods depend on people being so scared of uncoolness they’ll buy anything. NFTs? You mean, 'the opportunity to democratise creativity through unique digital assets?'. WOW! YES PLEASE!
The metaverse? You mean, 'the potential to empower virtual communities through peer-to-peer immersive interactions?'. OMG!
TV ads created with Gen AI? You mean, 'a completely average, uninspiring and basic piece of content that not only lacks any of the character a human would bring, but also destroys the planet?'. WHERE DO I SIGN?
The guarantee is utopia, the reality is wasted budgets and an embarrassing press release.
Above: Whether it's NFTs, Gen AI or the metaverse, new technological trends are often pushed as the answer to all problems.
The advertising industry is embracing Gen AI because it’s obsessed with trends. It was obsessed with trends when I wrote decks 15 years ago, and it’s obsessed with trends now. The only difference between then and now is that, now, there’re more trends. Trends everywhere. Trends on TikTok. Trends in the DMs. Trends in Substack essays and on stages. Client presentations are filled with trends; these ‘musts’ of consumer behaviour begging to be ridden (awkwardly, like an arthritic donkey).
The industry has become a desperation fun run, chasing trends like an obsessed coyote, gagging for a taste of that dastardly roadrunner, but never quite catching it.
Over my years of ad meetings I’ve seen sustainability (i.e. saving the planet) described as a trend. I’ve seen feminism (i.e. the pursuit of global gender equality) described as a trend. I’ve seen kindness described as a trend. I’ve also seen ‘letter writing’ and ‘alien adventure solo travel’ described as trends. I’ve seen endless one-off occurrences and events dressed up like a pageant babe and pitched as trends that brands absolutely must maximise. The industry has become a desperation fun run, chasing trends like an obsessed coyote, gagging for a taste of that dastardly roadrunner, but never quite catching it.
Somehow, at some point, it was universally assumed that being 'on trend' was the perfect way to sell people stuff. That - rather than using originality and attempting to lead culture - brands had to follow it. This, despite no consumer having ever asked a brand to follow a trend. No shopper has ever said, “hmmmm, you know what would make me buy this car? If Fiat embraces the cultural trend of eclectic opulence, or branter.” Nevertheless, the ad industry persists. To be trendy is to be credible. Why be the best, when you can be the first?
Above: Informational cascades are when people choose to believe the hype, not the information.
As such, the trend replaced the idea. When clients can be a bit mean and insecure, following trends becomes a safe option. Piggybacking a cultural moment doesn’t feel as exposing as creating something from scratch. And justifying a paid partnership with Discord makes a lot more sense if you’re using the 'consumer participation trend' as justification. The ad industry is lost in a world in which the word ‘viral’ makes everything urgent and desirable. The viral lip gloss. The viral face cream. The viral Dubai chocolate. The viral lobotomy. But these aren’t cultural trends, they’re just informational cascades.
Piggybacking a cultural moment doesn’t feel as exposing as creating something from scratch.
In social psychology, informational cascades occur when individuals or entire groups of people choose to ignore actual information and instead copy others who acted before them. When you exist within an ecosystem that relies on the signals of others to let you know what’s correct or valuable, you mimic without much thought. Remember everyone panic buying toilet roll during Covid? That’s an informational cascade. Remember when every brand was entering the metaverse? That’s an informational cascade.
It’s like joining a queue for viral doughnuts and then, 90 minutes and three Instagram Stories later, discovering they taste completely average. Nothing about it is based on fact. It’s based on panic. So, whoever shouts the loudest, in the most convincing way, sits at the top of the cascade. It’s most persuasive towards people who assume everyone else knows more than them.
Above: "Labubus weren’t a cultural trend, they were a product that people bought."
Enter stage left: our grifters. The innovation pushers and the AI evangelists. The consultants telling you to GET ON BOARD OR YOUR BUSINESS WILL DIE. They create the cascade in the heart of the bubble with groundbreaking reports containing big predictions and handfuls of examples of brands doing that thing they’re telling you to do. And look, if Coke is doing it, then you should be doing it too! Instead of reason, the data here is fear. Fear dressed up as foresight.
The main problem with trend decks is that none of the things they’re calling trends are trends. Cultural trends take time; they’re meaningful, and change behaviour. Often, what the decks are calling a social trend, is just a thing that happened. Labubus weren’t a cultural trend, they were a product that people bought, just like Buzz Lightyear dolls thirty years ago.
Instead of reason, the data here is fear. Fear dressed up as foresight.
You might describe them on a slide to your B2B client as 'unhinged collectable scarcity with a toycore aesthetic', but that’s a retrospective analysis dressed up as a pattern. It’s not real. Brat Summer wasn’t a cultural trend, it was a very successful marketing campaign, like the Barbie movie a few years ago. What can we learn from them? Not that every brand should’ve painted itself lime green between August and September 2025, but that if you have an original idea, feel confident about it and pummel it, people might buy you.
If it wants to be honest, the advertising industry should admit that it’s in the business of fads. Defined as 'an intense and widely shared enthusiasm for something, especially one that is short-lived; a craze', a fad is the social object around which the market now revolves. This isn’t about deep cultural impact, it’s fads.
Above: Fads are why Pringles released a cryptocrisp.
At dinner parties when people ask what you do, be honest! Say: “I chase fads for a living.” There’s no shame in your game! You create fad decks. Ask your peers; “what fad are we rinsing today?”. Tell people you’re in the fad business. You’re in the short-lived craze business. Be accurate, and announce to the world that what you care about is an intense mini-moment that you can ride in the absence of an original thought. Fads are what you’re being sold by consultants who, two years ago, wanted you to put NFTs at the centre of your marketing strategy, which is why Pringles made a cryptocrisp.
Futurologists aren’t supposed to sell you stuff. They’re supposed to scenario-plan. They’re supposed to offer warnings based on social, moral, economic and regulatory factors. They’re supposed to work with us to imagine a future in which we play an active role, not as consumers, but as citizens. Futurologists aren’t supposed to sell you stuff. They’re supposed to have integrity. So, if someone’s threatening you with irrelevance in one breath, and then selling you technology in another, they’re probably lying to pay their bills.
Be accurate, and announce to the world that what you care about is an intense mini-moment that you can ride in the absence of an original thought.
Trends decks pretend the future is something you can spot, manipulate and sprinkle with capitalism. It isn’t. Well, it shouldn’t be, anyway. But they’re a symptom of something bigger, rather than the disease itself. Fad-pushers aren’t the problem. Grifters aren’t the problem, they’re fleas attracted to a dirty dog who, rather than creating the market for fast-paced bullshit, simply bounced on board.
The issue is the dirty dog. An industry that punishes bravery and perpetuates internal fear. An industry that beefs with itself on a daily basis. Strained client-agency relationships within a context of endless redundancies. An industry that flings itself from craze to craze with the emotional stability of an incel. An industry so desperate for award wins that everything feels shallow and impermanent. This environment is where fads thrive.
Maybe the only way to fix the problem is to position ‘fixing things’ as a trend. Perhaps the only way to clean the dirty dog is by describing the process as an 'immersive canine purification experience movement'.
Align it with Charli xcx and see what happens.
