The age of the charming jingles and catchy slogans has long passed, replaced by a flood of content and brand messages that are more about signalling virtue than selling a product. Jaguar’s recent rebrand video — one that stirred up a variety of reactions — might be the latest example of how advertising has evolved from being a tool of persuasion into a mirror that simply reflects contemporary societal values.

Let’s dismiss, for a moment, the noise out there about repositioning the brand away from tweedy middle-aged pipe-smokers and more toward the uber-rich. Price points on base models are rumoured to start at $500,000. Is the new target Saudi sheiks and Dubai money? Maybe. But let’s look at the message itself.

On the surface, Jaguar’s new ad seems like a classic case of corporate identity crisis. The video, with its dramatic visuals and lofty promises about change, seems to offer more of a cultural manifesto than a traditional car commercial. I’d argue that it feels like a manifesto of our times — reflecting our collective obsession with identity and virtue signalling.

Before we rush to blame Jaguar for the confusion and criticism their ad has stirred, it’s important to take a step back and consider the broader context of our present moment. Jaguar’s rebrand is not an isolated case, nor is it inherently flawed. What we’re seeing is a company — like so many others — trying to navigate the turbulent waters of modern marketing, where the real challenge isn’t about selling a product, but rather aligning with the values that society deems important.

The Virtue of Selfishness

Despite messaging that is vaguely aspirational and considerably vacuous, the ad is steeped in abstract ideas: environmental sustainability, technological progress, inclusivity. The music is some kind of future forward vibe, the visuals are glossy. But all that gloss is simply layered like shellack over the belief that today’s consumers are more interested in how a brand reflects their personal identity than in the actual product itself.

Our Obsession with Self Identity

This points to an even deeper idea. We live in an age where personal identity is paramount. The entire cultural conversation is focused on the self: who we are, how we’re perceived, and what our choices say about us. In such a climate, companies have found a profitable niche ensuring their products line up with individualistic values. Just look at the rise of luxury brands that cater to our desire for exclusivity, the eco-conscious trends pushed by companies like Tesla, or even the fashion industry’s tireless attempts to tap into social movements.

Jaguar, like so many other brands, is simply doing what businesses do: feeding off the market forces of self-expression. They’ve realized that the car you drive is less about practicality and more about what it says about who you are. Jaguar’s rebrand video, with its focus on progress and innovation, can be seen as an attempt to connect with our contemporary obsession to seek self-improvement and self-actualization — whatever that means.

The issue isn’t that Jaguar’s ad promotes selfishness. It’s that we’ve allowed self-centered values to permeate nearly every facet of modern life. In a world where social media platforms encourage narcissism and consumerism is often framed as a path to personal fulfillment, is it really surprising that Jaguar wants to capture the current zeitgeist? The problem, perhaps, is not that Jaguar is too focused on identity, but that identity itself has become commodified and weaponized for corporate gain.

The Triumph of Feels over Reasoning

Another contemporary trend reflected in the rebrand is the shift from rational to emotional decision-making. Once upon a time, buying a car was a matter of balancing specs, performance, and price. Now, it’s about how a car makes you feel—how it aligns with your aspirations, your social values, and your vision of the world.

This isn’t just true for Jaguar; it’s the modus operandi for brands across the board. From the emotional appeal of Apple’s “Think Different” campaign to Nike’s “Just Do It,” we’ve conditioned consumers to make purchases based on emotional triggers rather than logical assessments. Jaguar’s ad follows this pattern: bright, showy (if meaningless) visuals, vibrant music, and a promise of a better future that you can be part of (assuming one dreams of living on a pink planet with glabrous, androgynous people) — if only you buy the right car.

Emotionally-driven marketing is powerful. It taps into our amygdala, that area of the brain that unlocks our deepest desires, fears, and hopes. But it also reveals something troubling about our society: we are increasingly disconnected from rational thinking, and decision-making is more often driven by emotional impulses than by reasoned analysis. The ad doesn’t just try to sell a car — it tries to sell a vision, a feeling, a way of being in the world.

When Capitalism Colonizes Identity

At the heart of Jaguar’s rebrand is a subtle yet telling observation about the state of capitalism today: the commodification of everything. In the past, capitalism was about producing better products, competing on the strength of your offerings. But today, it’s about shifting society to match the needs of corporations. We don’t just buy products; we buy into a narrative, a way of life that’s been carefully crafted by marketers who understand the art of social rent-seeking.

Social rent-seeking, in its simplest form, means that companies no longer just try to improve their products; they shape culture and society to match their products. Jaguar’s ad doesn’t merely showcase its latest model; it proposes an entire worldview that aligns with its brand values — progressive, inclusive, sustainable. In this sense, the car becomes a symbol of something much larger, and we, as consumers, are asked to buy into this cultural shift.

We see this in many industries, from fashion brands shaping trends to tech companies influencing everything from our social interactions to our political views. The ad is part of a broader strategy where companies seek to mold society in ways that make their products more desirable — not by improving the products themselves, but by making their products synonymous with the values that we aspire to.

The Ad Is Not the Problem

So, is the Jaguar ad the problem? Not exactly. It’s just the latest symptom of a larger cultural shift — a shift where advertising no longer just aims to sell a product, but instead tries to mold our identities, our emotions, and even our values. The ad may be a bit over-the-top and a tad disconnected from the everyday realities of most consumers. But it’s not uniquely misguided. It’s merely a reflection of the world we live in today.

In the end, the real issue is not with Jaguar’s ad. It’s with the times we’re living in — where companies like Jaguar are merely playing the game that has been set for them.

“Creativity is exactly like washing a pig. It’s messy. It has no rules. No clear beginning, middle, or end. It’s kind of a pain in the ass, and when you’re done you’re not sure if the pig is really clean or even why you were washing a pig in the first place.” Luke Sullivan

You don’t have to be as steeped in the business of practicing creativity as Luke Sullivan, a 30-year copywriting veteran and best-selling author on the subject, to appreciate his observation.

Because whether your business card contains a creative title or not, every human being has at least a little bit of creative muscle. We use it when we look for a new way to solve a problem. We all know that depending on how difficult the challenge is and how long we’re willing to devote to it, creative solutions are out there. It could be an idea for a new song, a piece of art, a solution to a business challenge, or even just something to get for that difficult-to-buy-for someone’s birthday.

The trick is finding a creative answer.

In How to Fly a Horse: The Secret History of Creation, Invention and Discovery, Kevin Ashton notes a letter by Mozart published in Germany’s General Music Journal in 1815, describing his creative process. The great composer’s letter concludes, “When I proceed to write down my ideas, the committing to paper is done quickly enough, for everything is, as I’ve said before, already finished; and it rarely differs on paper from what it was in my imagination.” Apparently, his greatest symphonies, concertos and operas arrived his mind complete. He had only to write them down.

The trouble is Mozart never wrote any of that. The letter’s a forgery. Mozart’s real notes, to friends and family, describe a very different process. He sketched out initial thoughts, revised and often got stuck. As exceptionally talented as he was, he created awkwardly, through trial and error, progressing iteratively.

Anyone who’s paid to be creative knows, regular creative demands are like running a marathon. In the Himalayas. Your veins need to be filled with a strange admixture of fear and confidence. Fear of failure keeps you driven, at least enough to keep trying to make something original. Original work must be, by definition, totally unproven. Sometimes it feels about as safe as Oppenheimer risking a runaway reaction that could set the atmosphere ablaze – to test a new bomb. At the same time, you need to have enough confidence to take risks as you seek something new. On top of that, you need the staying power to continually resist the status quo and keep exploring. As a final added pressure, in any creative business venture there are sums of money on the line. You envy Columbus. He must have known that sailing off the edge of the world would at least save him from the worse fate of standing before King Ferdinand’s accountant and explaining how he cost the boss 3 fully rigged-out ships.

If you make creativity your business the work can be lonely and often agonizing. You can suffer an almost unbearable pressure, not just from what seems like a hopeless task set against an impossible deadline. An even greater enemy looms: yourself. The blank page mocks you mercilessly. You grow dispirited. That terrible fear creeps in. You double down and try to think harder. Whatever substance obstructs bowels feels like it’s made its way into your cranium. The dendrites in your neo-cortex actually begin to hurt. Then, eventually, an embryonic little idea emerges. These first one or two of these are awful, malformed, embarrassing. You wonder if passing kidney stones would be less painful.

So, why do we do it?

Because creating something from nothing is an utter joy. At some point, often in a flash, an interesting idea forms before us. And we have an answer.

That’s how creativity works. It’s kind of inexplicable. No one can really explain it. And yet everyone’s felt that giddy thrill of landing on a creative way of moving forward. Yes, those of us working in creative fields often have to strain the muscle more often than others. And how lucky are we?

We get to wake up every day with a blank slate. We have an opportunity to bring something new into the world. The pressure’s there in the background, of course. We have to work to tame our internal leather-bound, crop-wielding dominatrix. But relentlessly curious, we’re inspired by our environment. We observe it, finding ways to see things anew. We fiddle, worry, explore, sweat, play, discover. As solutions elude us, we can get frustrated. But overall, it’s a joyous experience. There’s a kind of high about solving problems creatively. And on top of that delight, we get paid for it.

Because clients value that ability to stumble on a solution. And they value those who can stumble on a good solution with some degree of regularity.

No one can be sure a new solution will work. Part of the process is trying it, stress testing it, observing the results. If it fails, we try again. That’s one of the great beauties of creativity. It’s an unlimited resource. As long as we’re willing to keep trying, solutions will keep arriving. It’s part of what makes creative pursuits so much fun. They keep our minds active. Each solution prompts another and another.

We’re always observing, looking for a better solution.

Every creative idea we dream up for our clients benefits from being exposed to other voices and improved by many hands. We need our team mates to help bring the idea to life, to execute it, to refine it, to manage it through the process, to help us present it in its best light. We need them to help us manage client feedback and assist us through subsequent steps. Through that process, we all contribute to the creative product. The result is that now we all own the idea.

If we’re lucky, the squirming, writhing, once-muddy little pig we’ve scrubbed clean together moves people and makes the world a better place.