Meta sparked outrage on Boxing Day when Connor Hayes, VP of Product for Generative AI, told the Financial Times the company plans to embed AI personas deeper into Facebook and Instagram. Hayes painted a future where bots would coexist alongside real users, and “be able to generate and share content powered by AI on the platform”. The interview drew a fresh round of criticism to the 28 experimental AI profiles the company had introduced since 2023, and Meta’s just quietly laid these accounts to rest. While the profiles are gone, the platform’s offered no assurance they’re done trying to fill their ever-growing number of human-sized holes with digital fillers. If Meta's convinced that fake users are the answer to real problems, they're setting themselves up to become the poster child for the wrong side of history. Meta’s Idea Of Innovation Is Making Their Image Worse Mark Zuckerberg might be the only person alive who doesn’t realize just how disliked he and his company are. The memes are practically compliments compared to the hard data. A Thales survey found 94% of people globally don’t trust social media companies, and Facebook isn’t just on the list; it’s the mascot. Meanwhile, Insider Intelligence’s Digital Trust Benchmark study highlights that only 18% of U.S. social media users expressed confidence that Facebook protects their privacy and data, and their trust rankings score Facebook worse than TikTok—a platform half of Congress thinks is run by Beijing. That’s not an achievement; it’s an obituary for public trust. The media isn’t kinder. Between whistleblower exposés and polemical headlines about algorithmic manipulation, Meta has become the tech industry’s moral punching bag. And users? Hitting delete. Meta’s Family Daily Active People hit 3.29 billion in September 2024—20 million below analysts’ expectations. Instagram growth is limping at 2.2% annually, while TikTok sprints ahead with a 10% surge. You’d think by now someone on Meta’s PR team might have nudged Mark and said, “Hey, maybe lean into the humanity thing?” But instead, Meta has decided to double down on their least appealing trait: artificiality. Fake users won’t convince people to stay—they’ll convince them that Meta has officially given up on trying to understand real ones. And if that doesn’t accelerate the exodus, nothing will. A Case Study In Becoming A Permanent Fixture In Court Meta isn’t just in regulators’ bad books—it is the bad book. Cambridge Analytica? The $5 billion FTC fine? Facebook Papers? I’m dumbfounded this got past their veteran legal team, but maybe they’re looking to justify their salaries. How else do you explain a decision so provocative it begs Lina Khan to clear her calendar for another round of subpoenas? The FTC Chair has built her reputation on taking tech titans to task, and she’s not exactly subtle about it. Known for her sharp critique of monopolistic practices and deceptive business models, Khan has reshaped the FTC into a watchdog that’s no longer afraid to bite. Bots that could amplify misinformation, distort ad metrics, and blur the lines of user interaction are exactly the kind of opaque, deceptive tools that land at the top of Khan’s hit list. The EU isn’t going to sit this one out either. With the AI Act poised to become law, Europe has regulators salivating over systems like this—ones that engage with humans in ways that are ripe for abuse. Meta’s leadership has spent years convincing legislators they can’t be trusted, and this move is practically screaming: You were right. Regulators don’t need new reasons to target Meta, but this stunt would give them a fresh excuse to sharpen their knives. Mark, Advertisers Pay 98% Of Your Bills Common sense says you launch features to make users love you or advertisers throw money at you. Users are only so keen on imaginary friends, and advertisers want access to humans—real ones who shop, scroll, and occasionally complain about bad shipping times. Brands will probably be double-checking their contracts, wondering, “Did I just spend millions to impress a chatbot?” Meta didn’t create a feature; they created a trust crisis. Bots don’t buy skincare or book vacations. They don’t share campaigns or build brand loyalty. What they do is make advertisers question if Meta’s platforms are even worth the investment. And when budgets move, they don’t come back. 2024’s Ad Boom: Meta Didn’t Win; Everyone Else Lost Meta’s advertising victory in 2024 wasn’t strategy—it was collateral luck. X was busy imploding under Elon’s one-man chaos act, TikTok spent the year on Capitol Hill’s dartboard, Snapchat was…still Snapchat, and advertisers turned to Meta because they were the least untrustworthy option in a lineup of suspicious characters. Instagram rolled out incremental upgrades—click-to-buy features, better Reels targeting—but these weren’t game-changers. They were stopgaps. These successes were situational, not systemic. Now, Meta seems determined to squander even that borrowed goodwill by rolling out AI personas like they’ve forgotten advertisers have brains. Authenticity Is Currency—And Brands Won’t Risk Spending It On Meta 86% of consumers prioritize authenticity when choosing products, 72% refuse to buy from companies they don’t trust, and 83% say authenticity drives what they share. Brands now need to calibrate every choice to prove they’re the real deal—from how they manufacture to where they’re seen. So, platforms are no longer just delivery systems but extensions of a brand’s identity.**And that’s where Meta’s AI personas become a problem. For brands that preach authenticity like gospel, advertising here will be nothing short of hypocrisy. What does it say when your painstakingly crafted authentic messaging sits on a digital wasteland crawling with corporate-approved deepfakes? You didn’t think this through, or that you don’t care. And if brands don’t care where they’re seen, why should consumers care what they’re selling? Advertisers have walked away for far less. In 2020, over 90 brands—including Coca-Cola, Starbucks, and Unilever—hit pause on Facebook ads, unwilling to be complicit in the platform’s failure to rein in hate speech and misinformation. Fast forward to Musk’s Twitter meltdown: major accounts like CVS and Mars bailed when the platform became a toxic free-for-all. So, if Meta insists on running a funhouse, they shouldn’t be surprised when advertisers start looking for a real stage. Advertisers Were All In—Until Meta Made Them Think Twice Advertisers left 2024 convinced Meta had their act together. Ad revenue was up, rivals fell on their faces, and the company finally seemed less a scandal magnet and more like a safe investment. But bots? A platform doesn’t roll out fake users unless it’s struggling to keep the real ones interested. This is the corporate equivalent of dropping air masks mid-flight, instantly convincing everyone there’s a problem, even if there wasn’t one to begin with. Might as well hand advertisers a breakup playlist and directions to TikTok. And worse, this announcement telegraphs a deeper issue: Meta’s ad team fundamentally doesn’t understand what advertisers need. Marketers aren’t paying for engagement theater. They want results. Measurable, bankable results. Instagram updates in 2024 were getting close, but this move has “developed by amateurs” graffitied over it. Digital advertising is a battleground, and Meta just rolled out a wooden sword. For brands spending millions, this isn’t just a disappointment—it’s an insult. And for those brands, the question changes from “What are we paying for?” to“Why are we still here?” Forget Bad Business—Meta’s Forgotten What Business They’re In Most CEOs keep their midlife crises confined to sports cars and questionable hobbies, but not Mark Zuckerberg. Between his MMA obsession, gold chains, and that Get Low cover, it seems he’s taken his existential wobble and handed it to his company. AI personas are yet another chapter in Meta’s ongoing identity meltdown. First it was the metaverse. Then gaming. Then crypto. Then enterprise tools. And now what? Content and entertainment? Most companies focus on narrowing the field and eliminating competition. Meta, meanwhile, seems intent on creating new competitors for themselves. With AI personas spitting out content, is the company trying to become a streaming service? A digital magazine? Cable TV’s weird younger cousin? Every move Meta makes stretches its identity thinner. Taking on TikTok and YouTube was already a stretch, but now Meta thinks it can play in Netflix’s league, rub elbows with Condé Nast, and take on Disney? Why stop there—maybe they’ll try their hand at Broadway next. Or NASA. This isn’t ambition—it’s delusion on a corporate scale. And it’s a chaos investors are starting to notice. Meta’s stock has rallied on the strength of its advertising business, not its side quests into VR headsets or blockchain. AI personas risk spooking investors who thought they were backing a tech juggernaut, not an all-you-can-eat buffet of half-baked strategies. If Meta doesn’t decide what it wants to be, Wall Street might decide for it. Final Thoughts: Zuck Gave Us A Giant Middle Finger Amid the Internet’s collective bot purge, Meta’s building a platform of synthetic life and congratulating themselves for the effort. The company that once claimed it would connect humanity now seems more interested in ghosting it. They’re not ignorant, incompetent, or even insane. They’re indifferent. AI personas are a ridiculosity and a revelation: users were never the point—just data points on a quarterly report. Now that metrics can be given makeovers with something quieter, more obedient, and a hell of a lot cheaper, Meta’s decided maybe they can stop pretending to care about us. Well, if people are optional, Meta’s future is too. Remember Zuck, bots don’t have wallets. Meta sparked outrage on Boxing Day when Connor Hayes, VP of Product for Generative AI, told the Financial Times the company plans to embed AI personas deeper into Facebook and Instagram. Hayes painted a future where bots would coexist alongside real users , and “ be able to generate and share content powered by AI on the platform ”. The interview drew a fresh round of criticism to the 28 experimental AI profiles the company had introduced since 2023, and Meta’s just quietly laid these accounts to rest . a future where bots would coexist alongside real users be able to generate and share content powered by AI on the platform Meta’s just quietly laid these accounts to rest While the profiles are gone, the platform’s offered no assurance they’re done trying to fill their ever-growing number of human-sized holes with digital fillers. While the profiles are gone, the platform’s offered no assurance they’re done trying to fill their ever-growing number of human-sized holes with digital fillers. If Meta's convinced that fake users are the answer to real problems, they're setting themselves up to become the poster child for the wrong side of history. If Meta's convinced that fake users are the answer to real problems, they're setting themselves up to become the poster child for the wrong side of history. Meta’s Idea Of Innovation Is Making Their Image Worse Meta’s Idea Of Innovation Is Making Their Image Worse Mark Zuckerberg might be the only person alive who doesn’t realize just how disliked he and his company are. The memes are practically compliments compared to the hard data. A Thales survey found 94% of people globally don’t trust social media companies , and Facebook isn’t just on the list; it’s the mascot. Meanwhile, Insider Intelligence’s Digital Trust Benchmark study highlights that only 18% of U.S. social media users expressed confidence that Facebook protects their privacy and data , and their trust rankings score Facebook worse than TikTok —a platform half of Congress thinks is run by Beijing. That’s not an achievement; it’s an obituary for public trust. Mark Zuckerberg might be the only person alive who doesn’t realize just how disliked he and his company are. 94% of people globally don’t trust social media companies Insider Intelligence’s Digital Trust Benchmark only 18% of U.S. social media users expressed confidence that Facebook protects their privacy and data their trust rankings score Facebook worse than TikTok That’s not an achievement; it’s an obituary for public trust. The media isn’t kinder. Between whistleblower exposés and polemical headlines about algorithmic manipulation, Meta has become the tech industry’s moral punching bag. And users? Hitting delete. Meta’s Family Daily Active People hit 3.29 billion in September 2024 — 20 million below analysts’ expectations . Instagram growth is limping at 2.2% annually, while TikTok sprints ahead with a 10% surge. 3.29 billion in September 2024 20 million below analysts’ expectations You’d think by now someone on Meta’s PR team might have nudged Mark and said, “ Hey, maybe lean into the humanity thing? ” But instead, Meta has decided to double down on their least appealing trait: artificiality . Fake users won’t convince people to stay—they’ll convince them that Meta has officially given up on trying to understand real ones. And if that doesn’t accelerate the exodus, nothing will. Hey, maybe lean into the humanity thing? Meta has decided to double down on their least appealing trait: artificiality Fake users won’t convince people to stay—they’ll convince them that Meta has officially given up on trying to understand real ones. A Case Study In Becoming A Permanent Fixture In Court A Case Study In Becoming A Permanent Fixture In Court Meta isn’t just in regulators’ bad books—it is the bad book. Cambridge Analytica? The $5 billion FTC fine? Facebook Papers? I’m dumbfounded this got past their veteran legal team, but maybe they’re looking to justify their salaries. How else do you explain a decision so provocative it begs Lina Khan to clear her calendar for another round of subpoenas? How else do you explain a decision so provocative it begs Lina Khan to clear her calendar for another round of subpoenas? The FTC Chair has built her reputation on taking tech titans to task, and she’s not exactly subtle about it. Known for her sharp critique of monopolistic practices and deceptive business models, Khan has reshaped the FTC into a watchdog that’s no longer afraid to bite. Bots that could amplify misinformation, distort ad metrics, and blur the lines of user interaction are exactly the kind of opaque, deceptive tools that land at the top of Khan’s hit list. The EU isn’t going to sit this one out either . With the AI Act poised to become law, Europe has regulators salivating over systems like this—ones that engage with humans in ways that are ripe for abuse. The EU isn’t going to sit this one out either Meta’s leadership has spent years convincing legislators they can’t be trusted, and this move is practically screaming: You were right . Regulators don’t need new reasons to target Meta, but this stunt would give them a fresh excuse to sharpen their knives. You were right Mark, Advertisers Pay 98% Of Your Bills Mark, Advertisers Pay 98% Of Your Bills Common sense says you launch features to make users love you or advertisers throw money at you. Users are only so keen on imaginary friends, and advertisers want access to humans—real ones who shop, scroll, and occasionally complain about bad shipping times. Brands will probably be double-checking their contracts, wondering, “ Did I just spend millions to impress a chatbot? ” Meta didn’t create a feature; they created a trust crisis. Did I just spend millions to impress a chatbot? Bots don’t buy skincare or book vacations. They don’t share campaigns or build brand loyalty. What they do is make advertisers question if Meta’s platforms are even worth the investment. Bots don’t buy skincare or book vacations. They don’t share campaigns or build brand loyalty. What they do is make advertisers question if Meta’s platforms are even worth the investment. And when budgets move, they don’t come back. And when budgets move, they don’t come back. 2024’s Ad Boom: Meta Didn’t Win; Everyone Else Lost 2024’s Ad Boom: Meta Didn’t Win; Everyone Else Lost Meta’s advertising victory in 2024 wasn’t strategy—it was collateral luck. X was busy imploding under Elon’s one-man chaos act, TikTok spent the year on Capitol Hill’s dartboard, Snapchat was…still Snapchat, and advertisers turned to Meta because they were the least untrustworthy option in a lineup of suspicious characters. Instagram rolled out incremental upgrades—click-to-buy features, better Reels targeting—but these weren’t game-changers. They were stopgaps. These successes were situational, not systemic. Now, Meta seems determined to squander even that borrowed goodwill by rolling out AI personas like they’ve forgotten advertisers have brains. These successes were situational, not systemic. Authenticity Is Currency—And Brands Won’t Risk Spending It On Meta Authenticity Is Currency—And Brands Won’t Risk Spending It On Meta 86% of consumers prioritize authenticity when choosing products, 72% refuse to buy from companies they don’t trust, and 83% say authenticity drives what they share. Brands now need to calibrate every choice to prove they’re the real deal—from how they manufacture to where they’re seen. So, platforms are no longer just delivery systems but extensions of a brand’s identity.**And that’s where Meta’s AI personas become a problem. 86% 72% 83% For brands that preach authenticity like gospel, advertising here will be nothing short of hypocrisy . What does it say when your painstakingly crafted authentic messaging sits on a digital wasteland crawling with corporate-approved deepfakes? You didn’t think this through, or that you don’t care. And if brands don’t care where they’re seen, why should consumers care what they’re selling? advertising here will be nothing short of hypocrisy And if brands don’t care where they’re seen, why should consumers care what they’re selling? Advertisers have walked away for far less. In 2020, over 90 brands—including Coca-Cola, Starbucks, and Unilever—hit pause on Facebook ads, unwilling to be complicit in the platform’s failure to rein in hate speech and misinformation. Fast forward to Musk’s Twitter meltdown: major accounts like CVS and Mars bailed when the platform became a toxic free-for-all. So, if Meta insists on running a funhouse, they shouldn’t be surprised when advertisers start looking for a real stage. So, if Meta insists on running a funhouse, they shouldn’t be surprised when advertisers start looking for a real stage. Advertisers Were All In—Until Meta Made Them Think Twice Advertisers Were All In—Until Meta Made Them Think Twice Advertisers left 2024 convinced Meta had their act together. Ad revenue was up, rivals fell on their faces, and the company finally seemed less a scandal magnet and more like a safe investment. But bots? A platform doesn’t roll out fake users unless it’s struggling to keep the real ones interested. This is the corporate equivalent of dropping air masks mid-flight , instantly convincing everyone there’s a problem, even if there wasn’t one to begin with. Might as well hand advertisers a breakup playlist and directions to TikTok . A platform doesn’t roll out fake users unless it’s struggling to keep the real ones interested. A platform doesn’t roll out fake users unless it’s struggling to keep the real ones interested. corporate equivalent of dropping air masks mid-flight Might as well hand advertisers a breakup playlist and directions to TikTok And worse, this announcement telegraphs a deeper issue: Meta’s ad team fundamentally doesn’t understand what advertisers need. Marketers aren’t paying for engagement theater. They want results. Measurable, bankable results. Instagram updates in 2024 were getting close, but this move has “developed by amateurs” graffitied over it. Digital advertising is a battleground, and Meta just rolled out a wooden sword. For brands spending millions, this isn’t just a disappointment—it’s an insult. And worse, this announcement telegraphs a deeper issue: Meta’s ad team fundamentally doesn’t understand what advertisers need. For brands spending millions, this isn’t just a disappointment—it’s an insult. For brands spending millions, this isn’t just a disappointment—it’s an insult. And for those brands, the question changes from “What are we paying for?” to“Why are we still here?” And for those brands, the question changes from “What are we paying for?” to“Why are we still here?” Forget Bad Business—Meta’s Forgotten What Business They’re In Most CEOs keep their midlife crises confined to sports cars and questionable hobbies, but not Mark Zuckerberg. Between his MMA obsession, gold chains, and that Get Low cover, it seems he’s taken his existential wobble and handed it to his company. AI personas are yet another chapter in Meta’s ongoing identity meltdown. First it was the metaverse. Then gaming. Then crypto. Then enterprise tools. And now what? Content and entertainment? Most companies focus on narrowing the field and eliminating competition. Meta, meanwhile, seems intent on creating new competitors for themselves. With AI personas spitting out content, is the company trying to become a streaming service? A digital magazine? Cable TV’s weird younger cousin? Every move Meta makes stretches its identity thinner. Taking on TikTok and YouTube was already a stretch, but now Meta thinks it can play in Netflix’s league, rub elbows with Condé Nast, and take on Disney? Why stop there—maybe they’ll try their hand at Broadway next. Or NASA. Meta, meanwhile, seems intent on creating new competitors for themselves. With AI personas spitting out content, is the company trying to become a streaming service? A digital magazine? Cable TV’s weird younger cousin? This isn’t ambition—it’s delusion on a corporate scale. This isn’t ambition—it’s delusion on a corporate scale. And it’s a chaos investors are starting to notice. Meta’s stock has rallied on the strength of its advertising business, not its side quests into VR headsets or blockchain. AI personas risk spooking investors who thought they were backing a tech juggernaut, not an all-you-can-eat buffet of half-baked strategies. If Meta doesn’t decide what it wants to be, Wall Street might decide for it. If Meta doesn’t decide what it wants to be, Wall Street might decide for it. If Meta doesn’t decide what it wants to be, Wall Street might decide for it. Final Thoughts: Zuck Gave Us A Giant Middle Finger Final Thoughts: Zuck Gave Us A Giant Middle Finger Amid the Internet’s collective bot purge, Meta’s building a platform of synthetic life and congratulating themselves for the effort. The company that once claimed it would connect humanity now seems more interested in ghosting it. The company that once claimed it would connect humanity now seems more interested in ghosting it. They’re not ignorant, incompetent, or even insane. They’re indifferent. They’re not ignorant, incompetent, or even insane. They’re indifferent. They’re indifferent . indifferent AI personas are a ridiculosity and a revelation: users were never the point—just data points on a quarterly report. Now that metrics can be given makeovers with something quieter, more obedient, and a hell of a lot cheaper, Meta’s decided maybe they can stop pretending to care about us. AI personas are a ridiculosity and a revelation: users were never the point—just data points on a quarterly report. Meta’s decided maybe they can stop pretending to care about us. Well, if people are optional, Meta’s future is too. Remember Zuck, bots don’t have wallets . bots don’t have wallets
