When did we lose the courage to have a piece flop?
Seriously.
Everything in my feed is some version of a template that's "working." Same hooks. Same formats. Same carousel with a different logo on it.
And I get it. The pressure to perform is real. You have a boss, or a board, or a revenue number staring at you. Publishing something proven feels responsible. Publishing something original feels like a risk you can't afford.
But here's what nobody tells you: playing it safe is the risk.
When the algorithm leads your creative, you're not making content anymore. You're filling in someone else's template. And no one gets lit up inside working within a template. Not you. Not your team. Not the person scrolling past it.
Here's the problem for your brand: if your content looks like everyone else's, you might think you're doing a good job. But really you're putting a lot of effort into not being remembered.
Differentiation = being remembered.
Chasing trends and copying competitors will drive views. Not brand recall. And recall is the whole game. We're here to be remembered and drive customers to our brands, not to blindly chase views.
I've written about this before as the Commodity Content Trap. It's only gotten worse.
And I'm not preaching from a mountain here. I've fallen into it myself. There have been stretches where I looked at our own content calendar and realized every post was a format I'd seen work somewhere else. It felt productive. It was actually hiding.
Now think about the brands you actually remember.
Domino's told the world their pizza sucked and rebuilt it in public. That campaign could have been a disaster. Instead it made them the fastest-growing pizza chain in the country. The swing was the strategy.
Every piece of content you've ever loved was a risk somebody took. Someone sat down, ignored what was "working," and made the thing they believed in. Then they hit publish without a guarantee.
You already know how to do this. You did it when you started your company. Nobody handed you a template for that. You saw something others didn't, and you bet on it.
Your content deserves the same courage.
And here's the reframe that changes everything: a flop isn't a failure. A flop is proof you took a swing. It's a rep. Every original piece you publish, whether it hits or not, sharpens your instincts and builds a voice no competitor can copy. The template crowd never builds that. They can't. They've outsourced their thinking to the feed.
So here's my challenge:
Once a week, turn off your wifi. Jot ideas down on paper. Write or film something without scrolling for inspiration. Then publish it.
Don't check the numbers for 24 hours. Give yourself full permission to flop.
One post a week without expectation. That's it. That's the whole assignment.
Do it for a month and something shifts. You stop asking "what's working?" and start asking "what do I actually think?" That question is where every memorable brand starts.
The feed will still be there when you get back. The templates will still be there. But you'll be building something they can't touch: a point of view.
P.S. If you want to connect on social media, where I share tips throughout the week, follow me on Linkedin.