Rethinking the Value of the “Always-On” Brand
I started 2025 with a broken neck.
Not literally, of course (thank god!)—figuratively. My whiplash is mostly self-inflicted. Like so many other business leaders, I’m transfixed by this year’s deeply upsetting political circus and environmental horrors, but also ripping myself away to manage my mental health. Decoding the moment through philosophical abstractions and thinkpieces, but enmeshed in the very real, searingly personal, and painfully tangible ramifications of each moment.
Who’s being affected? How? When?
What does it all mean?
How should we respond?
Simply put: what is the healthy, productive amount to know and not know? To follow and not follow?

Beyond the news, attention theft is the new normal. Decades of exponential information growth now barrage us with perspectives at lightspeed, demanding our own opinions in response. And on top of it, our social feeds make all information sources seem equally substantive, for better and for worse.
We’re at the apex of cultural voyeurism. And especially right now, it sucks.
“Voyeurism” is best known for its sexual origins: the activity of getting pleasure from secretly watching other people in intimate situations. But today, through creative innovations in media and technology, voyeurism’s definition has expanded to viewing anything that feels private or personal.
In the sex positivity space, voyeurism is considered participation; there’s no such thing as being a passive spectator. When this notion is grafted onto all social interactions, it reveals how we’re all simultaneously playing watcher, star, commentator, and editor.
Pleasurable at first, constantly contorting between these roles leaves us drained. We’re left scrambling to figure out how much we’ll be watched, who’s watching us, their motives, and whether we can even do anything about it. It's confusing, and damaging our mental health.
We’ve been careening toward this moment for centuries. Take the 17th century legend, “Peeping Tom,” the tailor who watched a nude Lady Godiva ride through Coventry in protest of taxes. Voyeurism took on new forms in the 20th century, in turn-of-the-century “society” magazines, 1950s American gossip columns, 1990s reality TV, and, of course, the 2000s social media boom.
Our contemporary voyeuristic impulse has virtually no bounds. We see it in data voyeurism, as AI systems lurk behind our monitors, gaining access to our deepest understandings of the world around us. It shows up in our surveillance culture, where we can watch our neighborhoods through each others’ doorbell cams and then upload the funniest or scariest videos for entertainment. Even traditional sexual voyeurism received a glow-up due to platforms like OnlyFans.
Our voyeuristic obsession has gripped politics. The culture wars now suggest the government—and even fellow citizens—should have more access to our private lives, extending to our bedrooms, bathrooms, and doctors’ offices.
But what right do I have to your privacy?
To be clear, I’m a business strategist. I specialize in marketing, branding, and design. I’m far from immune to business’s voyeuristic impulses, and I risk being complicit with every contribution to my clients, partners, and teams.
It’s not just me—virtually all brands struggle with their complicity. It can be fairly banal, like when high-end brand Bottega Veneta uses paparazzi walks as their ad campaign, or when mainstream brands like DuoLingo go over-the-top on social media. But it can also be deeply concerning, like when brands on the leading edge, like 23andMe, face the data debacle from their bankruptcy. Or when social media platforms juggle censorship and free speech like knives.
So what do we do about it?

Those on the creative side of business always have their mouths against the bullhorn. We’re experts in communication, persuasion, and transformation. And we can use the tools at our disposal to interrupt the riptide of mindless voyeurism. Let’s commit to three things:
Seek Virtuous Engagement.
It’s a modern marketing maxim: not all engagement is quality engagement. But it goes beyond basic NPS measurement—it’s about rewarding the specific users who make your brands’ channels a better place to be together, in line with your company’s deepest held convictions. Challenge your teams to always serve a purpose in consumers’ lives, rather than just feeding them ads. This isn’t solely altruistic; it pays dividends.
Don’t Buy Data; Borrow It.
In the age of generative AI, modern businesses can earn durable loyalty by making it easier for consumers to track their data usage. Europe legislated this approach years ago, but for those of us outside the E.U., consider that your competitive advantage lies not in the sheer amount of data collected but in the trust earned through responsible use.
Speak Up.
In every annual planning session, workstream kick off, or creative review, there’s usually a moment when a tactic sits a little funny—an approach tinged with exploitation, even if you know it’ll drive business returns. Don’t ignore those feelings. Complacency and exhaustion is where we all are, so seizing something better should always remain a priority, no matter your seniority.
The whiplash is real. But we can still press ahead into 2025 with a sense of collective purpose, accountability, and action at the forefront. With a goal to use our presence and influence to manage our voyeuristic impulse rather than exploit it. Then, maybe voyeurism can be as exhilarating and rewarding as it promises to be, every time.
About the Writer
Aaron Powers is a Partner of Strategy at SYLVAIN. Based in Los Angeles, he steers organizations through brand, product, design, and advertising challenges. He spends most of his time in the tech, entertainment, and financial services spaces with brands like Spotify, Netflix, and American Express. He is a co-host of SYLVAIN’s weekly podcast, Critical Nonsense.