Against content

My least favorite word in the english language this year, is content.

It's everywhere, it's everything.

Content.

Content.

Content.

"what something is about", or "to satisfy".

It's a form of writing that is intended to capture market share. Content is everywhere people are trying to do business. It is not the glass itself, but the thing inside the glass; and like a glass of fresh water, it should refresh. Delight. Often, it does neither.

Instead, content has become more akin to handing your customers a glass filled with whatever one has on hand in the moment– delivered naturally, with a big, friendly smile as if you should thank them for a glass filled with dirt.

'Content" is often no more than meaningless word vomit about nothing useful that fails to satisfy. Social media has created the illusion that everyone has something interesting to say, and LLMs are, increasingly, getting people to believe they can say something interesting without thinking first– just copy and paste, the robot said it, so it must be true.

Whereas Platforms reward content because their business model depends on capturing attention, not delivering value, corporate "content marketing" optimizes for the appearance of value without delivering actual insight, or what I like to call, performative expertise. The content serves the company's visibility goals rather than the reader's understanding.

The internet has shifted information from being about "informing" to something that is solely used to drive "engagement" metrics. We've reached a point where we say that filling the glass is what matters. We will reward you for filling the glass, regardless of what's inside it.

Content, then, as a word, has become vapid, meaningless. It should be anathema to any self-respecting writer, marketer, thinker, or communicator.

And so, I think it's time to move away from the term "content." The medium shapes the message more than we admit. When we frame creative work(including business writing) as "content creation," we're already conceding that substance matters less than volume. The language we use to describe our work inevitably influences what we produce.

Because, at the end of the day, the goal of effective communication, regardless of audience, is to fill the glass with something constructive. Something that delights. That informs. That helps people think about something in a new way. It's not the content that matters; it is the quality of the ingredients. As a writer, you want to aim to deliver Insight, bring clarity, or a perspective your audience can't get elsewhere.

So next time you are working on some 'content', consider: What am I filling the glass with? What problem does this solve that couldn't be solved before? What new or different perspective is being offered? Will this delight and refresh? Or am I just stringing together empty words?

Because good writing isn't "content"—it's craft. It solves problems, shifts perspectives and delights minds.