Content is a dirty word.

I remember the first time that I heard marketing thought leaders use the term content.

It felt off. What exactly were they referring to?
It sounded so uncreative, so formal, so... blah.

Because what they’re really referring to isn’t just the structure of social media feeds, websites or blogs, it’s the “meat” of those things — the reason those platforms exist. They’re simply that — a shell, a platform, a place to house something.

When you refer to it as just content, or use the term so casually, you’re dismissing what it actually is. It’s the most valuable part (the burger patty inside the bun). It’s not just filling space.

But what is “content”? Content is the substance. It’s the written word, thoughts, compelling ideas, and strong visuals. It’s creative.

The format could be anything — audio, podcasts, music, graphics, blog posts, articles, videos, whether they’re short-form ideas or epic artistic works.

And yet, we sum it all up as “content”.

Today, of course, “content” is an extremely common and normal term — at least in the advertising, marketing, and creative world.

But when it first started becoming mainstream, I was turned off.

Currently, Gen Z consumes more content than any other generation, spending a quarter of their day (7 hours daily) doing so. All that consumption means a lot has to be created.

That leads us to the title: Content Creator.

Now, entire careers and identities are being summed up by this content that people create, rather than who they are. They are creatives, storytellers, skilled professionals, and technicians of gear and software. They are not simply “content creators” as the title would suggest. Some of them are artists. Some of them are creatives.

But personally I think reducing them to the role of “content creator” strips away the depth of what they actually do.

I saw a LinkedIn post the other day from a fellow creative advertising professor. He shared that he’d received multiple emails from students about the title content creator, but in a different context. In this case, it was about how the title has become a jack-of-all-trades label, used by companies and agencies to bundle multiple roles into one—diluting both compensation and perceived expertise.

Think about it. There are well-defined roles in the ad industry: art directors, copywriters, graphic designers, social media strategists, video editors, photographers, and more. But now, this shift is happening in both traditional advertising careers and independent creator spaces.

At one point, there was a whole discussion about the difference between influencers and creators, but really, they’re just individuals posting things on social media. They’re identifying as creators. But what are they creating? Content.

Content is simply the format, the place, the spot it fills within a feed, an email, or a webpage. But actually — that is the work. And when we reduce everything to just content, we risk undervaluing that work.

When someone calls themselves a content creator, I think they’re missing an opportunity. Sure, the word creator is in there — but are you creative, or are you just filling a need, filling a box, meeting a quota?

All art can be content, but not all content can be art.

I’ve heard my wife share that phrase before. It really stuck in my head, thinking about this week’s newsletter.

If you truly are an artist, a storyteller, a creative person — writer, filmmaker, photographer for example — I think that’s what you should identify as. That is what separates you.

I also came across this travel photographer who reflected on the concept of art vs. content, and the “contentification” of everything. He says that everything is content, especially nowadays. Historically, he identified with being an "artist", but more and more he finds myself making things that are more aligned with what he thinks the feeling of "content" means to the zeitgeist. Here are his thoughts about that and this concept of contentification:

As you can likely tell by reading so far, I believe that art should not just be content. But I understand there’s a variety of factors and that artists need to promote themselves using content. So much so that I’ve done workshops about this for arts organizations.

Is art today being designed less about being creative, and more about trying to go viral?

That’s what this Australian artist and illustrator says. Struthless outlined his view really well a couple of years ago in this video (which I saw after writing this piece, and came back to add it before publishing). It’s slightly more in-depth at over 15 minutes long, but worth the watch.

The LinkedIn post I mentioned earlier shared that many professionals are rebranding themselves, repositioning in the advertising world as creative strategists, content designers, or digital art directors to better reflect their expertise — and to avoid the perception of content churn.

I agree with this statement that was part of the post:

Respect your craft.
Know your value.
Own your identity.

What about social good?

Before we wrap, I wanted to apply this to the world of social impact.

Working with nonprofit organizations is another example of how content really needs to be about storytelling, stakeholder engagement, and genuine interaction. The way organizations communicate their mission, rally support, and demonstrate impact matters — it’s not just posts and emails, it’s the stories of the people they serve, the passion behind their cause, and the way they inspire donors, volunteers, and communities to take action.

Reducing that to “content” undervalues the real work that goes into crafting messages that resonate, mobilize, and create change. With that, nonprofits are shaping narratives, building trust, and fostering movements.

What does content mean to you?

Now, back to titles.

If you’re calling yourself a content creator, ask yourself what that actually means to you.

What does your work or art actually look like?
What’s the format? What’s your medium?
And maybe most importantly, what’s your message?

Because it’s not just content living on a platform, filling a virtual box.

And at the end of the day, in a sea of constant content, meaning and context is key.