The Revolution Will Not Be Branded

Optics should support the work, not overshadow it.

I recently read a LinkedIn post that made me want to give a standing ovation right from my computer screen (condensed):

“The nonprofit industrial complex, neoliberalism, and the attention economy have teamed up to require social change workers to build a ‘personal brand’ in order to be seen as successful or impactful.

We’ve been pushed into a system where your visibility—your followers, content, aesthetic—can matter more than your skills, strategy, or connection to real grassroots communities. And listen, that’s not by accident. That’s capitalism doing what it does: rewarding optics over substance.

…if we aren’t careful, we’re gonna build a world where folks with the most attention are the least equipped to guide us through real change.”

As a storyteller and social justice comms professional, you’d think I’d be more skeptical about the optics backlash (especially given what I wrote about last week). But the original poster truly hit the nail on the head. Visibility does not mean that a person or organization is in a position to truly lead a movement. Virality doesn’t necessarily mean that real impact was made for people and communities. Having a lot of followers doesn’t equate to having a base that’s equipped and ready to mobilize and take action.

This isn’t a comms or digital strategy issue. There is sector-wide misalignment that has led a lot of social justice organizations and nonprofit leaders to believe that curated social media feeds and pretty branding that attract a large audience are enough.

Movements or manufactured spokespeople?

To quote the LinkedIn post once more: Are we building movements or manufacturing spokespeople?

I used to work at a racial justice organization that thrived off of being seen. In summary, we were working to move the needle across several different areas of work, from criminal justice to media and culture change. But the communications team was forced to be machines, constantly pushing out quotes for spokespeople, managing media requests beyond our capacity, writing talking points to make our spokespeople sound like powerful changemakers, writing as many op-eds as possible, and pitching to reporters—begging them to look at us and write about our “power-shifting” campaigns against the injustices Black people face.

I loathed this part of my job. The organization claimed to be a true leader in movements impacting Black lives, but our role as communicators was, quite literally, “to make [anonymous] look good in the press” despite the organization being a complete internal disaster and spending funds on things that had nothing to do with our movement work (but that’s a story for another day). As long as our engagement and impression numbers were high, the president and his leadership team were satisfied.

Over time, the work felt less aligned with our mission to lead campaigns that build real power for Black communities. It became hyper-individualized, focused more on boosting the organization’s image than building a community rooted in shared responsibility. Instead of driving real impact, we were increasingly focused on curating an external façade to keep the organization, and its president, looking good in the public eye.

Who are we really centering?

It’s worth asking: In our push to be seen and celebrated, have we drifted away from the people and purpose we claim to serve?

I understand the value of visibility. Visibility leads to influence, and influence leads to power. But it becomes an issue when visibility as a strategy is prioritized over depth, or when leadership is dictated by how many followers someone has.

In this digital age, it feels like being an organizer isn’t enough. You also have to be a content creator. And that content has to be polished, digestible, and algorithm-friendly. But real movement work is messy. It’s about practicing community, designing strategies that center humanity, healing from historical trauma, and long-term organizing. That’s how change is cultivated and transformation happens.

I remember being in a meeting at that same organization where someone suggested we sideline a grassroots partner because their visual identity wasn’t “on-brand” and they “didn’t have a big enough following.” This was a group doing powerful, consistent work on the ground, fighting for equity and inclusivity for Black artists and artists of color in the Hollywood industry. But because they weren’t popular enough in the mainstream, they were seen as less effective. That moment made things clear: we were undervaluing the work and overvaluing optics.

Realigning Priorities for Impact

In a culture that’s obsessed with aesthetics, how can organizations stay grounded in the work?

Let’s start by shifting what we value internally. It’s time for organizations to ask themselves:

• Are we focused on the real, intricate work of movement-building just as much as the polished image we present to the world?

• Are we centering community impact and accountability, or pouring most of our energy into gaining followers, overpublishing content, and following aesthetic trends?

• Are we using visibility as a tool for engagement or a substitute for meaningful change?

Optics matter, but they should support the work, not overshadow it. We need to stop conflating charisma with credibility. Some of the most impactful work is happening offline, often in underfunded orgs led by people making real impact on the ground—from feeding people impacted by food insecurity, organizing tenants affected by unaffordable housing, or holding healing spaces for survivors of sexual violence.

But they don’t get the same media opportunities and attention because their work isn’t always flashy or aligned with the curated image many organizations feel pressured to maintain. They’re not just crafting content for clicks. They’re building trust, deepening relationships, and advancing collective power. And in a sector increasingly driven by optics, that kind of work often gets overlooked, under-resourced, or treated as secondary.

Getting Back to the Root of the Work

When aesthetics become the end goal rather than a tool for deeper engagement, priorities get lost.

Movements get flattened into marketing campaigns.
Leadership is minimized into a brand.
And the people who most need to be heard are often pushed to the margins.

Real change asks us to look beyond the curated and the clickbait. Nonprofits and the broader philanthropic sector have a role to play in that shift by going back to the root of our existence: prioritizing relationship-building, long-term organizing, and the unseen labor that never makes it into a viral tweet or reel.

Clout will only get you so far. I ended up quitting my job at that racial justice organization because I hated feeling the pressure caused by performative activism, where the metrics that mattered most were media hits, not community outcomes. And the burnout that came from constantly pushing out content instead of being given the space to build meaningful, values-aligned work was enough for me to walk away.

We can’t build sustainable movements on appearances alone. Real change demands investing in the people and organizations working behind the scenes, those remaining rooted in community, no matter how “popular” they are among the mainstream.

It’s in these unseen spaces where the foundation for lasting transformation is actually being carried through.

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