My wife and I just got back from London. We did all the things. A few pubs, a few sights, a little football (you might call it soccer…Go Arsenal!), 62 escalators (I counted) and over 45 underground stops. The main reason for the trip, though, was to watch the Cleveland Browns lose to the Minnesota Vikings at Tottenham Hotspur Stadium. That’s right…we flew across the ocean to watch the Browns lose. Some habits die hard.
While we were there, we went to see ABBA Voyage, a show I’d heard friends rave about. The premise sounded wild: a virtual concert residency in London featuring digital avatars, or “ABBAtars,” of the original band. Using motion-capture technology, the show recreates ABBA in their prime, supported by a live band and jaw-dropping lighting.
Honestly, I went out of curiosity. I left a believer.
From the back of the dance floor (which turned out to be the best spot in the house), I couldn’t tell that the four people on stage weren’t real. When the cameras zoomed in, sure, you could sense it was a digital re-creation, but it didn’t matter. The mix of live musicians, sound, and these eerily lifelike digital performers made it one of the most incredible entertainment experiences I’ve ever had.
During “Dancing Queen,” I stopped for a moment to look around. Thousands of people, young and old, were laughing, singing, crying, feeling. My wife leaned over and said, “You look like you’re in church.” And honestly, I was. I must have said “Oh my God” a dozen times.
The couple next to us made the trip from Ireland to see the show for the THIRD time with plans to be back again soon.
That’s when it hit me: no one cared that ABBA wasn’t really there. They were fully in the moment.
And that realization shook me.
The Line Between Real and Fake Is Gone
Seeing ABBA Voyage cemented something I’ve been feeling for a while: audiences don’t care whether they’re consuming content made by humans (“the reals”) or by machines (“the fakes”).
They care whether it moves them.
We’ve already crossed the line. The videos we scroll through, the articles we read, the podcasts we listen to, more and more of them are AI-generated, or at least AI-assisted. And you know what? Almost no one can tell, and even fewer care.
That’s not to say “the reals” are going away. There will still be a loyal following for human-only art. Just like there’s a passionate group of people who still buy vinyl records. But they’ll be the minority. For most of the world, if the content entertains, educates, or makes them feel something, they’ll click, share, and move on without asking who (or what) made it.
The Future of Creation
We’re about to enter an era where our favorite artists, writers, and creators can live forever through data, models, and motion capture. Imagine watching Elvis perform a new show, or seeing a “young Billy Joel” sing “Piano Man” again, even as the real Billy deals with health issues. It’s not science fiction anymore. It’s here.
And yet, this shift raises deep questions. If the experience feels real, does the source even matter? If we can be moved by something artificial, is that connection any less meaningful?
I don’t know the answer. Part of me feels uneasy. The other part feels awe.
What I do know is this: the world of content, and how we define real, has changed forever.
What do you think?
Would you rather connect with the “reals,” or are you ready to embrace the “fakes”?
The Opportunity Ahead
All of this…the blurred line between real and fake, the speed of technology, the noise that never stops…is exactly why I wrote Burn the Playbook.
The world is changing faster than we can process, and it’s easy to feel like we’re losing control. But the truth is, the rules have always been made up by companies, by systems, and by other people telling us how to live and work. We don’t have to play along anymore.
This new era gives us a choice: to drift in the current of whatever’s “next”… or to build something that’s ours. Our own path. Our own meaning. A freedom that’s hard to express in words.
The “fakes” may rise, but nothing can replace the real power of a person who takes ownership of their life and decides what success actually means.
That’s the game. That’s the opportunity.
So don’t sit this one out. Experiment. Publish. Build something that belongs to you. Because while the fakes are rising, there’s still nothing more powerful than a real human with a clear purpose and the courage to act on it.
On Death
Three people close to our lives passed away over the last two weeks.
One of them was someone I was once incredibly close to. Years ago, for a variety of reasons, we stopped talking. I made a few attempts to reconnect, but the distance stayed. Then last week, I heard the news that they had died.
If regret exists, this is it. I regret the lost time, the moments we could have shared, the stories we will never tell, the chance to simply say, I’m glad we’re still here together.
Many of the things I accomplished as a professional were due to their guidance and honesty. I’m not sure where I’d be without them. I’m not sure they ever knew that. I certainly never told them.
If there is someone in your life you have grown apart from, reach out. Mend the fence, even if it feels awkward or one-sided. When everything else fades, the relationships we have, and the ones we still have a chance to repair, are what matter most. We forget that sometimes, until it is too late.