For the last few years, the conversation about AI in creative production has been dominated by a single question: can it do this? Can it write a script, generate an image, produce a spot, replicate a voice? The answer to every version of that question is now yes, or close enough with each model upgrade.
Resonance is whether the story lands for the person it was made for. Whether it moves them, shifts something, makes them feel seen. This is not a soft metric. Resonance is measurable in attention, in recall, in sentiment, in purchase, in loyalty. It is the closest thing advertising has ever had to a genuine standard.
What has never been measurable is craft. Craft became a proxy for taste, and taste became a proxy for access, and access became a proxy for a very small number of people deciding what "good" looks like for everyone else.
Resonance is not taste. It's not defined by polish, budget, or the approval of a jury. Resonance is whether the story landed and mattered to the person it was made for, not the person who made it. That is the only standard that has ever actually mattered, and it's the one AI cannot fake.
When we replace "can AI do this?" with "will AI increase resonance for this specific audience in this specific moment?" we stop having a technology conversation and start having a creative one.
AI can generate narrative. It can produce images, dialogue, music, motion, voice, at a scale and speed no human production pipeline can match. What it cannot do is know who it's talking to the way a human knows another human.
Storytelling has always been the technology humans use to close the distance between themselves and other humans. That is what it is for. That is why it works. AI is a production instrument, an extraordinary one. But the creative act, deciding what story to tell, who it's for, what it needs to make them feel, requires a human who understands that distance and has chosen to cross it. AI can carry the story once that decision is made. It cannot make the decision.
The moment we outsource that decision to a model, we stop making stories and start generating content. And content, no matter how technically accomplished, is not culture. Culture is what happens when stories resonate. Content is what happens when they don't.
I use AI tools. I have been using them. The models I work with were trained on data that includes human creative work: photographs, writing, performances, much of it gathered without explicit consent. I am not going to perform a concern I don't act on. That is the landscape we're working in, and pretending otherwise is dishonest.
But the past doesn't determine the future. As a consumer of these tools I had no choice in how they were built, but as a producer I do have a choice in how and what I create with them. These choices will not be easy and each one will come with ethical ambiguity. So we must each draw a line in the sand to decide what is worth preserving over optimizing.
My line: human performance as an art form worth fighting for. Not because synthetic performance can't be useful, but because I believe the most resonating work comes from human performance. That art is worth protecting. Actively. In contracts, in production choices, in the conversations I have with clients before production begins, not reactively, when it's too late.
The dominant pitch for AI in creative production is efficiency. Faster turnaround. Lower cost. Same output, fewer hours, fewer people. Every holding company roadmap, every new tool launch, every client conversation eventually arrives at the same question: how much can we save?
I think this is a failure of imagination. And I think it's dangerous, not because efficiency is wrong, but because efficiency extracts human value while impact multiplies it.
The question I want to ask instead is this: if the timeline stays the same and the budget stays the same, what can we do now that we couldn't do before? What stories can we tell to audiences we couldn't reach? What ideas can we test that we couldn't afford to risk? What versions of the work can we make for the communities that advertising has historically ignored because the economics didn't justify it? How can we expand the resonance of our storytelling further?
There's a practical proof for this that gets overlooked. When you compress timeline and budget using AI, you don't get the same product cheaper. You get fewer iterations, and iteration is where quality actually lives. The first version of anything is rarely the best version. The time and money you "saved" was the time and money that would have made the work stronger. AI used for efficiency skips that process. AI used for impact runs it faster, which means you can run it more times: testing more ideas, refining more instincts, arriving somewhere you couldn't have reached with a single pass.
Think of it this way: given the same budget and the same timeline, one kitchen optimizes for throughput. Fastest path from order to plate, minimum variation, predictable output. Another kitchen uses that same budget and time to iterate on the recipe, source better ingredients, refine the technique. Both cost the same. Both take the same time. The outputs are not the same. AI doesn't change that equation. It just determines which kitchen you're running.
That is impact. That is what happens when AI expands what humans can do rather than replacing what they do. The humans aren't removed. They're amplified. Their judgment gets applied to more decisions, not fewer. When we built a rocket to go faster we didn't just fly around the world. We landed on the moon. Why limit yourself to just faster when AI can propel us further.
These are not two versions of the same goal. They are fundamentally different relationships between AI and the humans who work with it.
Efficiency asks: how few humans do we need? Impact asks: how much can the humans we have achieve? One treats people as a cost to be reduced. The other treats people as the source of the value being created.
None of this is anti-AI. I am genuinely excited about what these tools make possible: the stories we can tell, the audiences we can reach, the ideas we can test that budget and time used to make unthinkable. I have seen what happens when AI is in the hands of someone with a real creative point of view and it is extraordinary.
What I am against is the abdication of judgment: the decision to let efficiency be the goal, let the model make the creative call, let the old craft standards determine what "good" looks like because it's easier than asking whether the story actually landed.
The audience is human. They will feel the difference between work made for them and work generated at them. They will respond to the story that knows who they are and feel nothing for the content that doesn't. They will remember the performance that moved them and forget everything else.
That's the standard. That's always been the standard. AI just makes it impossible to pretend the other thing was ever the point.