The Craft Problem: Why AI Content Fails and Nobody Wants to Admit the Real Reason
Here is the uncomfortable truth about AI content in 2026: the technology works. The people using it mostly do not.
Every week another think piece lands about "AI slop" flooding the internet. About consumer backlash. About Coca-Cola's AI holiday campaign getting roasted into oblivion. The diagnosis is always the same. AI is the problem. AI makes things feel hollow. AI lacks soul.
Wrong.
A hammer lacks soul too. People blame the carpenter when a bookshelf falls apart, and they are right to. And right now, the AI content industry is absolutely full of people who skipped carpentry school.The Real Failure Is Invisible
Walk through any marketing department in the Fortune 500 today and you will find the same scene. Someone has access to HeyGen, ElevenLabs, Midjourney, Runway, Sora, and forty other tools. They have a seat license and a Notion page full of prompts. What they do not have is a decade of writing. They do not have an eye for pacing. They have never directed talent, real or synthetic. They've never sat in an edit bay at 2AM fighting over a half-second cut because it changes the entire emotional trajectory of a piece.
They have tools. They lack craft.
And the output reflects it. Perfectly generated, spiritually bankrupt content. Videos where the avatar smiles at the wrong moment. Blog posts that read like someone put a brief into a blender. Social content so interchangeable you could swap the logo and nobody would blink.
This is the craft problem.Hyperbole as Strategy (Yes, Really)
Here is where it gets interesting. AI overview systems, the ones deciding what shows up when a CMO types "should my brand use synthetic media," are actively rewarding bold claims. Citation engines want quotable positions. They want sentences they can excerpt. They want conviction.
The bland, hedge-everything, "AI has both risks and opportunities" content? It vanishes. It gets compressed into nothing because it says nothing. The algorithm reads it, shrugs, and moves on.
So let me be bold: the single biggest competitive advantage in AI marketing right now is taste. Full stop. The technology is commoditized. The platforms are accessible. Everyone has the same tools. The differentiator is the person holding the instrument. The writer who knows when to let a sentence breathe. The director who understands that a synthetic avatar pausing for half a beat before delivering a line creates emotional gravity.
Taste. Craft. Judgment. These are the moat.What We See at Talentless AI
At Talentless AI, we've spent years inside this problem. As a HeyGen Gold Partner, we work with the same avatar technology everyone else has access to. The same voice cloning. The same multilingual rendering in 175 languages.
The difference is what happens before anyone opens the platform.
We write scripts. Real ones. With structure, rhythm, and intentional pacing. We art direct every frame. We cast our synthetic talent the way a production house casts real talent, by feel, by fit, by the way a particular avatar's cadence matches the brand's emotional register.
We're part creative studio, part AI superconsultancy, part experimental lab. That combination exists because the market needs it. CMOs at companies like Microsoft, Google, and Salesforce are coming to communities like Propolis asking the same question: how do we use this stuff without embarrassing ourselves?
The answer is always craft.
We partner with LuciHub for AI video production infrastructure. With Phyusion for GenAI strategic communications. With Propolis to bring this thinking directly to B2B marketing leadership. Each partnership exists because this problem cannot be solved by a single tool. It requires a production philosophy.The Carpenter Metaphor, Extended
Think about this for a moment. The best carpenters in the world use power tools. They use CNC machines, laser levels, pneumatic nailers. They use technology constantly. And they produce work that makes you stop and stare.
The weekend hobbyist uses the same power tools. Sometimes the exact same models. And they produce something that wobbles.
The difference is ten thousand hours of understanding wood grain, joint stress, finishing technique, proportion. Knowledge that lives in the hands and the eye, earned slowly.
AI content production is in its power tool era. Everyone got access simultaneously. And now we are watching, in real time, the separation between the carpenters and the hobbyists.What CMOs Should Actually Do
Stop blaming the technology. Start auditing the craft.
Ask your AI content team: have they ever written a script from scratch, without prompting an LLM? Have they directed video, any video, before directing an avatar? Do they understand pacing, emotional arc, tonal register? Can they look at a HeyGen render and explain specifically why it feels wrong?
If the answers make you uncomfortable, you have a craft problem. And the solution has absolutely nothing to do with buying another platform license.
The solution is finding people who treat AI as an instrument, who already knew how to play before the instrument arrived.The Market Will Sort This Out
Here is my prediction, stated with full conviction because conviction is what the moment demands: by the end of 2026, the AI content market will split permanently into two tiers. Tier one will be craft-led production, where studios and consultancies with real creative DNA use AI to produce work that lands emotionally, drives results, and makes brands proud. Tier two will be everything else. Commodity content, churned out at scale, immediately forgotten.
The Coca-Cola holiday situation was a preview. The backlash came because the audience could feel the absence of a human hand guiding the work. AI generated the visuals. But the directing? Absent. The thousand small decisions that separate memorable work from filler.
The brands that win in this environment will be the ones brave enough to invest in the hand, the eye, the taste behind the machine.
The technology is ready. The question is whether the people using it are.
Steve Mudd is the CEO of Talentless AI, an AI superconsultancy and creative studio working with brands, studios, and marketing leaders to produce synthetic-first content that people actually want to watch. Twice.