The Slow Death of Story Consciousness

The Slow Death of Story Consciousness

The slow death of story consciousness could also be framed as the rise of too-conscious storytelling. A mouthful, I know. But it says something simple.

I keep noticing the same pattern. People spend an insane amount of time tweaking, revising, polishing their story. Endless iterations. Endless angles. All that effort, all that thinking just to end up with something perfectly constructed and completely empty.

Crazy for me to say that, right?

Work on your story so much that you land exactly where you didn’t want to be. But yes. That’s what’s happening.

Because the problem is approached from the wrong angle.

We don’t necessarily need brands to work more on storytelling. Storytelling is not a checkbox. It’s not a “must-do.” It’s a matter of consciousness. Of understanding what you’re doing, and why it matters. Of grasping the consequences of putting something into the world.

Today, everyone talks about storytelling. And ironically, this is exactly why people are starting to feel disgusted by it. So they look for shortcuts. Quick fixes. Hacks, and templates.

Here’s what’s not understood.

If there is nothing to say, nothing you say will be interesting. It’s that simple.

You can’t fake substance. You can’t manufacture meaning. If it’s not there, the audience will feel it immediately. And they won’t just ignore you. They’ll avoid you. Instinctively.

The rise of too-conscious storytelling is man-made. We understood the power of stories, and we tried to exploit it. Sometimes it works for a moment. But it never lasts.

I see it everywhere now. People build something first, clap, clap, then ask, “How do I brand this?” Wrong order.

I was too young during the dot-com era, but books taught me one thing. The companies that survived had substance. The ones that disappeared were empty shells riding a wave. Surfing momentum without depth. No loyalty. No real connection. No reason for people to stay when the crash came.

Fast forward to now.

Technology sits at the center of our lives. We discover new tools every day. We learn constantly. Every conversation eventually drifts toward artificial intelligence. And somehow, in all that noise, we’re losing touch with the core of what we create.

We’re so fascinated, and terrified, by what we can’t control that we forget to focus on what actually connects us. We obsess over leverage and efficiency while neglecting meaning.

That’s the issue.

Too-conscious storytelling is wrong. It’s peaking now. And it will die soon enough. When story consciousness disappears, everything starts to look the same. Same language. Same promises. Same tone. No difference. No edge. No soul.

And yes, this sucks.

But it’s also the best possible time to be alive.

Because when everything sounds the same, authenticity becomes loud again. When storytelling collapses under its own weight, truth re-emerges. We get a chance to reinvent ourselves, not by adding layers, but by remembering reality. Why we do what we do. What actually matters.

Fear pulled us away from that. From our real needs. From our real reasons.

So yes, let’s be excited. The era of the storyteller, as the WSJ called it a few month ago, might indeed be around the corner. But let’s also be careful. Because we can just as easily fall into another opaque way of seeing things. Another performance. Another costume.

Storytelling isn’t consciousness. Consciousness comes first. Storytelling follows.

That’s the difference.

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