The Challenging Quest for Authenticity

The hunger for “authenticity” has never been greater in both the commercial and political arenas, as traditional sources of trust (religious, media, government, academia, sciences, etc.) lose their validity among large portions of the population.

At the same time, claims to be “authentic” have mushroomed as businesses and politicians increasingly recognize this descriptor as critical to consumer and voter preference.

I see authenticity as the gatekeeper to a specific type of truth, that a product or candidate really is what it claims to be in two essential ways. We expect authenticity claims to be factually true. But there is also a psychological dimension. We also expect them to resonate with our beliefs, values, and cultural norms.

We need to “feel”  they are “authentic,” to convey what my research colleague David Smith terms “the alignment of value systems.”

Both conditions need to be met for something/someone to be considered “the real thing.” If a claim is based on false information, it can’t make the grade even if we accept it as “genuine.” 

And this is the heart of the matter. We are constantly being bombarded with false information used to bolster claims of authenticity, which has cheapened the very nature of this critical concept.

Part One: Authenticity Claims in the Commercial Arena

Businesses, of course, never enjoyed the level of trust that the hallowed institutions listed above did, but a certain level of honesty was expected as part of the “contract” between buyer and seller (while still under the “buyer beware” rubric).

Brands convey a promise, a commitment to deliver quality, consistency, and specific features and benefits (great taste, soft towels, low price). But these only deliver on the first part of the equation.

To be fully embraced as “authentic” they need to promise something far more emotionally potent that resonates with your values: they satisfy your needs, bring people together, create and share memories, solve global problems, improve quality of life, etc.  

The common denominator that connects all of these emotional claims is a reliance on a human element, someone or something with whom/which the customer can identify.

Someone who looks like a doctor earnestly reciting a drug’s benefits carries far more weight than the laundry list of benefits themselves. Or someone you trust, or real-live users or reviewers endorsing the product. But even these can be suspect, as these endorsers and reviewers are often paid to do so.

Or brands emphasize a specific trait, such as being “natural,” “fair trade,” “made in America,” or come from a “family farm” (which in fact is a huge agribusiness that doesn’t look anything like the Norman Rockwell picture on the package). All these are intended to convey the sense they are “genuine” in a way that is critical to you.

In many cases, authenticity also implies a heritage, a link to the original version of or recipe for the product, often from a distant, somewhat romanticized past: it’s made just as it was 150 years ago.

Overall, efforts to project an aura of authenticity are fairly shallow. They focus on the emotional benefits delivered by showing “real people” (really actors) enjoying the product, or happily engaged with or even singing and dancing with their neighbors. With the sound off on the TV, the imagery would work as well for a whitening toothpaste, as for a family vacation, or cure for herpes.

Unfortunately, even these emotional claims aren’t necessarily true.  Often they are simply aspirations—Coke didn’t bring the world together in perfect harmony—and in many cases, these are fairly harmless.

Increasingly, however, they stem from a desire to deceive, to create a positive image when none is deserved, say after negative publicity about plant conditions or dumping toxic waste, or are simply false (there is nothing “natural” about the product). 

Part Two: Authenticity Claims in the Political Arena

Candidate claims of authenticity are also in ascendance. They, too, are dependent on conveying a sense of humanity, a person that voters can relate to (someone I can have a beer with) or admire (a successful businessman or an effective advocate for constituent needs), or just someone who shares your values. And here the relationship between claim and reality may be even more tenuous.

Of course there is nothing new here: remember “honest Abe Lincoln, rail-splitter and self-made man.”  But for all the reasons we are all too familiar with, fake claims about candidates have exploded far beyond the usual exaggerations.

In the past, many candidates were not really just regular guys/girls, or survivors of a  hard childhood, or worked their way up by hard work, as they claimed. This was (false) positioning, stretching the truth rather than outright lying.

But today candidates brazenly fake their academic credentials, military records, business employment and achievements, prior positions on key issues, and even their ancestry. Shame no longer shames. If caught, they shrug, double down on the lie, or attack the motivations of the media for “outing” their lies.

The Unhappy Conclusion

So we have a crisis of authenticity, with lots of “fake” authenticity going around, which increases skepticism toward any such claims.  Perhaps this requires a new descriptor – “authentishness” – akin to Stephen Colbert’s “truthiness.” 

What can we (consumers and voters) do to combat this? Very, little, I’m afraid. We certainly can’t depend on this (U.S.) government to police commercial or political claims for accuracy. 

I think the key may be to distinguish between one’s own quest for product/candidate authenticity and the nearly impossible task of getting the wider public to recognize the sea of falsity in which we swim. 

And this means being selective. If you really want to know if a coffee brand is truly “fair trade,” you can probably do the research yourself, even contacting the company for confirming information. Always checking ingredients is also a good idea. 

For candidates, we have to rely on investigative journalism, including professional fact-checkers, to uncover the most blatant lies. 

But the ancient truth still resonates – “Buyer beware.” Or perhaps, “Don’t trust, and verify.”

Post-Script (Non-Sequitor)

France garnered an incredible amount of coverage when a few burglars broke into the Louvre and grabbed a bunch of jewels. But that was really nothing compared to what happened in the U.S., when a convicted felon broke into the White House and removed the entire East Wing.