Tag / marketing

by Nathan Coumbe

AI isn’t taking your job

…at least not yet.

I use AI almost every day to assist with work and learn new topics (as part of my job) that I’m unfamiliar with. I read diligently to stay up-to-date on the latest developments, so I can learn how to use it more effectively.

AI will become (if it hasn’t already), and continue to be, a large portion of all of our lives.

However, we’re receiving a significant amount of misinformation about what’s happening and the effects it’s having on workers. Some of it is outright deception, while some is simply lazy reporting.

First, the deception.

The CEOs of these massive tech companies (e.g., Dario Amodei, Sam Altman) are brilliant business people who’ve created mind-boggling products. But they’re hemorrhaging cash trying to make their programs more powerful…

And after years of unbelievable growth and progress, they’re failing. The scaling law on which they used to project LLM growth is slowing down, and the improvements are now incremental, rather than exponential.

This is a serious financial problem for them. They need to keep their current investors engaged, and they need new investors to infuse them with additional capital. So what do they do?

They go on cable news shows or podcasts and claim that their AI software will replace all entry-level workers (10-20% of the workforce) within a matter of months.1 It just isn’t true.

But you wouldn’t know that from the news you’re consuming. They’ve bought into this story hook, line, and sinker.

Which brings me to my accusation of lazy reporting. Headlines like “Goodbye, $165,000 Tech Jobs” and “AI is Replacing 10 million Workers” (I made that one up) are attention-grabbing… But untrue.

These media companies, like the AI companies they write about, need to make money. They do that by getting as many eyes on their work as possible. And the best way to do that is to scare people into giving them attention… Even if the claims are untrue or misleading.

To paraphrase Ryan Holiday, who warned us about this years ago: “Trust them… They’re lying.”

It is true that computer science graduates are having a much harder time finding jobs at the moment. And it’s true that there have been massive layoffs in the tech sector.

It’s also true that the companies doing these layoffs are investing more of their money and efforts in AI. But AI is not the cause of this, nor is it replacing those who’ve been laid off.

Here’s what’s actually happening:

During the pandemic, these tech companies went on a massive hiring spree—they simply overhired. Now they’re bloated, and the quickest way to reduce the bloat and (temporarily) increase shareholder value is to shed programmers left and right.

At the same time, the tech sector itself is contracting, which means there are fewer jobs for all the newly minted computer science graduates.

This has historical precedence. The same thing happened in 2008 during the financial crisis. And it happened before that during the dot-com bust at the turn of the century.

The number of people entering the computer science field fluctuates in response to the economy. There’s a tech boom, prompting more people to enter the field. Then the sector contracts, and all those people get laid off, which in turn reduces the number of people entering the field.

Until the next boom.

Contrary to what many journalists have written, these people aren’t being replaced by AI. They’re simply being let go because companies overhired during the pandemic or because the companies are refocusing on AI.

However, that refocus, coupled with layoffs and fewer job openings, has led them to conflate the two, concluding that these computer science graduates are being replaced by AI.

This simply isn’t true. That may happen in the 2030s, but it’s not happening right now.

I’ve been guilty of buying into this hysteria too, as you can see in my piece on job hunting in 2025. And I’m here to tell you I was wrong in what I wrote about AI replacing workers in that piece.

All that to say this: Read AI journalism with a healthy dose of skepticism right now. And take any apocalyptic predictions with a grain of salt.

  1. Dario Amodei actually said this in an interview with Anderson Cooper and, ironically, claimed to be worried about it… Which begs the question: if you’re worried about it, why do you continue to do it?

    Why doesn’t he just stop if it actually worries him? It’s his company. ↩︎
by Nathan Coumbe

Some ideas on hiring (Part 3 of “Same job, different pay”)

(This is part 3 in a rant on hiring, salaries, and job postings. You can read part 1 here and part 2 here.)

If someone with less experience than I, who didn’t attend college like I did, started today at the company I currently work for, in the same role I hold now—do I think she should be paid the same salary as me?

Absolutely, I do.

The work is the work, and if she is doing the same work as me, to spec, she should earn the same amount I do. My years of experience and educational background do not entitle me to a higher salary if we’re doing the same work.

Can she do the work as is expected of her? That’s all that matters.

And for someone looking for a job like mine, if they can learn how to do it well, then why does it matter how they learned?

So if I’m against education as a prerequisite for entry, how should we go about hiring people?

I have two ideas, and the first is simple: more companies should adopt open hiring practices.

There’s a factory in New York that makes the brownies for Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream. If you want to work at the factory, you put your name on a list.

When a job opens at the factory and you’re next on the list, you get a call asking if you’re still interested in the job. If you are, you report to training, and if you can pass the training, you’re hired.

They don’t care about education, criminal backgrounds, living situation, previous employment, or current skills. If you can learn how to do the job, you get the job at the wage they pay everyone else.

Keep a list of applicants, hire them in order when jobs open up, and train them to do the work.

Why doesn’t every restaurant, coffee shop, and retail establishment in the world already do this?

Simple: They’re scared of making a bad hire. They worry that they’ll hire someone who doesn’t show up to work, arrives late, has a bad attitude, or struggles to perform.

Well… what happens when those same people are hired through traditional (i.e., shitty) job search qualifications?

They get fired.

And if you implement open hiring practices, you spend a lot less money on the recruitment process than you otherwise would, so you lose out on a lot less if you must fire someone.

The absurdity of hiring people through traditional methods of posting job openings, soliciting hundreds of résumés, and holding interviews gives companies a sense of control over who they hire.

But it’s an illusion: either the person will work out or they won’t. And interviewing people with the “right” background on paper isn’t a guarantee that they’re a good hire.

Now, I already know that this idea is so radical for people in knowledge work that it won’t happen anytime soon, even though I firmly believe many companies can hire and train people to perform a significant percentage of the available office jobs out there.

So, what if you’re absolutely certain that you can’t use open hiring due to the nature of the work your company does? Let’s say, because you don’t have the time or resources to train a person to the level you need quickly enough to make it worthwhile.

That’s where my second solution comes into play: contingency hiring.

Time for a story: I was laid off a few months after the COVID-19 pandemic began (from a job I had held for only a few months).

My job search lasted nearly a year (no one was hiring). It was excruciating and terrifying.

But one of the best things that ever happened to me in terms of my career happened near the end: a CEO took a chance on me in an unconventional way.

I’d been studying (and, to some small extent, practicing) marketing for a couple of years before the layoff. I’d spent a lot of time during my unemployment talking to people in the field to get a sense of the jobs available. I wanted to know what skills and knowledge they required so I could make myself more appealing to employers.

A former classmate from university recommended me for her role at a marketing agency when she left to take another job. I went into the interview feeling woefully underqualified, but I knew I had a decent foundation of self-study to build on and could learn the rest of what I needed to know on the job.

The CEO agreed, but was still somewhat reluctant to fully commit to this neophyte in the marketing world (and who wouldn’t be?). So he offered me a deal:

He said that he would let me work for the agency for four weeks in exchange for a single lump-sum payment to see if I could do—or learn how to do—the work required for the role.

After that, we would reconvene, and depending on the results, either he would hire me full-time, or we would part ways with no hard feelings and gratitude for giving the company my time and skill.

It was one of the most generous and thoughtful offers I’d ever gotten.1

If I were starting my own business today, this is exactly how I would hire someone. I’d post a job opening, and then I would select an applicant to work with me on a contingency basis.

Rather than conducting an interview (which only tells me if she’s good at interviewing), I would work on a project with her that I already needed to complete for the business, and I would pay her for her time.

If, at the end of the project, we found it was a good fit (and she still wanted to work for me, because she would also get to try out the business), I would extend a full-time offer to her.

Why doesn’t every company do this all the time? They get work done, can assess whether the person is a good fit for the role (which isn’t always apparent from an interview), and the applicant not only gets paid but also gets to test whether it’s a role they actually want.

I can’t fix the hiring process simply by writing and ranting about it. But I do know that it’s 100% broken right now.

Social media (LinkedIn) has made it worse, not better.

AI and ridiculous job requirements for college degrees and 30 years of experience have reduced the job search to months or years of misery, frustration, and indignity.

But these simple tweaks—from removing degree requirements to contingency hiring—could go a long way to fixing a broken system.

  1. I didn’t end up accepting his offer. I asked him to give me a day or two to think about it and discuss it with my wife, which he happily agreed to.

    Literally, that same day, after I got home from the interview, I got a call from another company I’d had a few interviews with. They had a firm offer for me for full-time remote work with benefits.

    I called him that evening to let him know I was taking the other job offer, which he completely understood. But he also let me know that the offer was still on the table if it didn’t work out. ↩︎
by Nathan Coumbe

Bad marketing & yogurt

I was at the grocery store buying yogurt for my wife made by a well-known brand. I called her on FaceTime to confirm which flavors she wanted.

She told me the flavors, and I found them – strawberry, mixed berry, and vanilla. 

Strawberry was red. Mixed berry was purple, red, and blue. Vanilla was a yellowy-cream color.

Later when I got home, my wife informed me I’d also bought lemon and black cherry (both of which were disgusting). 

The black cherry was a mixture of the same colors used for both strawberry and mixed berry. And the lemon was a lighter shade of the yellow that was on the vanilla yogurt.

Not only were the colors too similar to distinguish between them, but they were all stacked on top of each other in the refrigerator. Naturally I saw one flavor and grabbed all the ones in the same stack, assuming they were together for a reason.

Now this could easily be the fault of a merchandising person, but I don’t like to think that way. 

I’d like to argue that it’s the fault of bad marketing.

Marketers have a responsibility to distinguish between their products. 

Putting products in the same metaphorical “boat” as other products, then letting customers assume they’re the same, or solve the same problem, or have the same purpose? That’s terrible marketing. 

This is misleading to you, the customer. And when you bite into the lemon-flavored yogurt (thinking it’s vanilla), you’re in for a nasty, unpleasant surprise. 

That leads to anger, frustration, a bad experience, and a literal bad taste in your mouth. It’ll prevent you from doing business with them in the future.

Making product lines nearly indistinguishable from each other is a good way to confuse customers and prospects, frustrating them when it comes time to make a decision. 

My favorite case study for this issue (apart from yogurt) is Apple.

Most of their iPhones are indistinguishable from each other, with only the most minor differences between them. These are differences only an expert in photography, mobile device design, or someone with a lot of spare time on their hands would recognize. 

Their computers suffer fro the same issue—minor “improvements” that, to the average person, make no difference whatsoever in how they use it, what they get out of it, or why they should spend more (or less) money on it.

The solution is to make products that are remarkable, radically different from what’s come before. 

That way there’s a reason to buy one or the other. When customers have lots of options—and they can’t tell the difference between them—often the simplest solution is to buy the cheap one.

Or… Walk out the door.

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by Nathan Coumbe

Marketable skills

The Music School at University of North Texas has a list of what they call “marketable” skills that each of their degree plans develop. Skills include:

  • Performance communication
  • Excellent memory capability
  • Command of music computer programs
  • Pattern understanding
  • Improvisation and analytical capabilities

Now, as a former full-time musician myself and current corporate employee, I can safely say…

No one has ever paid me for any of this. Which is the supposed to be the definition of “marketable skills”—things worth paying for.

If you take Seth Godin’s definition of marketing to heart (which I do), then marketing means creating change in another person. And to take it a step further, it means creating a change in them that also prompts them to “pay” for your skills in some way.

You will then see that none of those skills do anything like that. However, they may give you the ability to accomplish that goal.

Those skills might allow you to:

  • Move another person so deeply that they become a raving fan of your music
  • Leave someone in awe of your stage presence and artistry (so they’ll come to more concerts and buy your albums)
  • Create a piece of music so astounding that someone tells 10 of their friends (and they tell 10 more…and on and on it goes)
  • Hypnotize an audience with intricate rhythms and on-the-spot creations so outrageous they beg to “know the trick”

All of these outcomes from your skill development lead to similar results: obsessed fans who tell other people and support your art because they can’t live without you.

The skills aren’t marketable.

But what you create with them and put into the world is.

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by Nathan Coumbe

Do you do what you THINK you do?

If you’re a business owner or freelancer, what problem would you say you solve for your customers? (Hint: it’s probably not the same as what they think.)

If you’re an employee, do you know what problem your company was created to solve? What its original purpose was? Do you know why customers hire your employer?

Odds are, what you think you do and the reason your customers actually buy from you are quite different. 

But if you want to increase your levels of success and sales, you have to align those two things.

Whether you’re starting a business or building a musical group, there are two marketing questions you must ask first: 

  • Who’s it for? 

And

  • What’s it for?

And if you work with others, you must also ensure they know the answers to these questions. If they don’t know, they won’t care, nor can they truly help you succeed.

“No involvement, no commitment.”

—Stephen R. Covey

In fact, it’s a good idea to solicit answers to these questions from your people. You might get closer to the truth of what it is you’re trying to do.

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by Nathan Coumbe

Give the people what they want

But what happens when what we want isn’t good for us? Or downright harmful?

One example I thought of comes from the food world. 

Many of our favorite things—Girl Scout Thin Mints, potato chips, Coca-Cola, Reese’s Cups—were engineered in a lab by a bunch of guys in white coats for one purpose. To be hyperpalatable—hitting our taste buds in all the right ways to make us eat more, crave more, and buy more. 

The problem is this: these things are designed to be easy to eat in massive quantities and to play on the chemical reactions in our brains to make us want them more and more all the time!

Now, they would argue that they’re just “giving people what they want”. Meeting market demand. And there’s some truth to that. 

If they suddenly went back to using more natural, rather than chemical, ingredients, customers would notice. We’d hate it… and probably get REALLY upset with these companies too.

 If they made them less cravable, crunchable, salty, delicious—they would be more like fruits and vegetables, lean proteins, and other whole, mostly unprocessed foods. 

Now, those real foods taste great, but they don’t have the same impact on our taste buds and brains as do our packaged foods. There’s just no comparison. 

Which is why it’s hard to make the switch. An apple just doesn’t taste as good as a Thin Mint. (Believe me, I’m speaking from experience here). 

But again, the problem occurs when these things take over our lives, causing massive health issues like diabetes, high cholesterol, hypertension, and others. And we can’t stop ourselves because our brains are being played on directly—it all just tastes so damn good!

Now, I’m not saying the government needs to get involved in things like this. Or that people need to be told what and what not to eat. I’m simply asking a question:

How do we embrace a free market system, a “give the people what they want” system, when what we often want is terrible for us? 

Is there a good solution? Probably not. They all come with downsides, some of them quite severe. 

Such is life in the 21st Century.

***As an aside, let me be clear: there are no good foods and bad foods. Don’t put labels on your stuff like that. There’s no quicker way to drive yourself nuts than to do that. Think of your foods on a continuum from “Eat More” to “Eat Less”. 

Unless you like to eat dryer lint or chug anti-freeze, there probably isn’t anything you should put in a “Don’t Eat” category. 

The purpose of today’s post was more philosophical: an exercise in mindfulness on my part.

by Nathan Coumbe

But do people care?

One of the keys to successful businesses and fulfilling careers is solving interesting problems.

Solving problems creates value, and value creates wealth.

But there’s a catch: other people have to care about the problem you solve. And they have to care enough about it to pay for it.

One of the first problems I solved for people was based in the music world. 

I knew people wanted to learn the drums. The problem was there wasn’t an easy-to-find drum teacher in the area. 

There were scores of drummers who taught, and I was nowhere near the best one. But… no one knew how to find them. 

So my solution was simple: I made business cards and left them on the counter at my local music store. And it worked: I got a lot of inquiries and a number of students. 

Another problem I wanted to solve (which I, at least, thought was interesting), was the massive littering issue at the park near my home. 

I had the idea to buy lots of cheap garbage cans and place them all over the park. In doing so, I thought I’d make “the garbage can is too far away” excuse moot. 

But I soon realized the idea wouldn’t work for one simple reason: no one else at the park cared about littering. It was the furthest thing from their minds.

Sure, I might have been able to persuade a few people through extensive marketing efforts (maybe), but it would truly have been a lost cause.

Finding a problem to solve is the first step. Next you have to figure out if other people care about it.

by Nathan Coumbe

Everything is a tool

When I was in marketing, I defined myself as a marketer. But I hated that title because of what people expected of me (sleaziness). And because of the jobs that were available—they contrasted with the type of marketing I wanted to do. 

When I was a musician, I defined myself as much. And I burned out. I got tired of the expectations placed on me because of how other people viewed the music world and careers within it.

As I’ve put some space between me and these fields, I’ve had a revelation.

They are just tools.

Marketing is a tool to make change happen. Music is a tool to create emotion in, and connection with, others. 

My fellows in both fields didn’t see it that way. Marketers told me that social media and spamming were the only ways to make things happen in business. 

Musicians told me, “you must focus only on percussion. If you try to play other instruments, you’ll be mediocre at best. No piano, guitar, or voice lessons for you.”

And I believed them. And missed out on some wonderful experiences in the process. And I eventually quit both.

The lesson here is to adopt the “tool” approach, so you see things for what they are. That way, they don’t become your identity. 

I know now that I focused on percussion in college because that area of music was a tool for me to use in that moment of life. To express what was inside of me at the time. It wasn’t who I was. 

And marketing is just a tool, like a hammer. You don’t have to “become” a marketer. You can simply use it as a means to make a change you want to see in the world. 

Separate yourself from the tools you use. 

by Nathan Coumbe

There are no good pharmaceutical ads

I saw a commercial for a new drug the other day… And I have to say it was one of the worst attempts at advertising/marketing a product I’ve ever seen.

But then I realized—they’re all the same. There are no good commercials for medications. 

Setting aside the fact that I genuinely believe Pharma companies should not be allowed to market products to the public—(isn’t it a doctor’s job to have those conversations?)—how can these companies make so much money and yet create such terrible videos?

Here’s how it plays out:

Picture some generic guy riding a horse, rock climbing, skydiving, or walking across hot coals—that’s how they always open. And you can’t relate because 99% of us don’t do the things these companies claim are the “normal” their meds will get you back to. 

The “normal guy” turns to the camera and says, “I have moderate to severe tuber-itis-osis.” Because, of course, that’s how we all talk. Whenever someone asks us what’s wrong, we label it “moderate to severe.”

Then they tell you about this great new medicine to fix the problem… Except NOTHING in these commercials tells you anything about the benefits you can expect from the drugs.

Instead, you’re treated to a 90-second monologue about all the grave, even deadly, side effects this “breakthrough drug” might cause, which plays over a backdrop of iMovie edits of random people walking through deserts or the Grand Canyon.

This violates every rule of marketing—there are no benefits to us and nothing but drawbacks are ever mentioned. It’s too long and drawn out, never gets to the point, and doesn’t answer “what’s in it for me?” What school did they go to?

Then, they wrap up by telling us to “ask our doctor” about this new medication. Nope—I’m not doing that.

It’s the doctor’s job to stay current on what works best, not ours. We don’t have a medical degree or the domain knowledge to make suggestions to our physicians.

Imagine the millions of dollars wasted each day these ads run. Money that could be spent making better meds, doing more research, or put to any number of better uses. 

Maybe Big Pharma should market to the doctors… And let THEM have these conversations with us. 

It’d save them a lot of money and the viewers a lot of boredom.

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by Nathan Coumbe

Inconvenience sells

I was leaving the gym this morning when I started checking my pockets for my car keys. 

Then I thought, “Why don’t women’s clothes have pockets?”

Since I see the world through the lens of marketing, I came up with a theory:

Maybe women’s clothes don’t have pockets so industrialists could sell more purses. 

Before there were purses, there were pockets in everything. You needed to be able to carry your stuff around with you.

I’m sure that didn’t sit well with the people who made and sold purses. When presented with a fancy new bag, I’m sure customers thought, “Why do I need a heavy, expensive bag to carry my stuff when I have pockets?”

But if you get rid of the pockets, you make things inconvenient. You’ve created a new need—the need to have something to carry your stuff around in.  

(Let’s not even get started on all the accessories sold simply to carry around in a purse…)

If this is true, it goes to prove a great (potentially immoral) marketing point:

If you don’t have a problem, make one up, then sell the solution. 

Marketers do this to us all the time. We need to be aware of it.

Are you actually being inconvenienced, or did a sly marketer make it that way?