The Most Asked Question in 2024

 

At the end of the year, Google unveils its ranking of the most-asked questions of 2024. (In Germany, the top query is “Why are farmers striking?” followed closely by “What is a Talahon?”) Meanwhile, Spotify releases its Spotify Wrapped feature, offering a retrospective of the most-streamed songs of 2024 (faced with sharp criticism for its soulless execution by AI).

The end of the year asks for a review, doesn’t it? So I want to present my own little year-end ranking. pssst… a ranking with questions I was asked most frequently during workshops, seminars, and lectures in 2024. Questions that I’ll finally answer here, sincerely and definitively.

Number 1 - The Most Asked Question in 2024: Will storytelling be taken over by AI?

Yes and no. (Sorry, that’s not a satisfying answer, but how could anyone today predict what AI will achieve tomorrow?) Studies already indicate emerging effects—on communication as well as on storytelling. Intriguingly, individual creativity is on the rise thanks to AI. Yes, each of us will become more creative with its assistance. The structures of stories, character descriptions, and narrative worlds—these all follow patterns (think Joseph Campbell’s “Hero’s Journey” or Christopher Booker’s “Basic Plots”). And AI is exceptionally adept at recognizing and leveraging patterns. Indeed, it can even simulate emotions and suggest the elements needed to make a story emotionally compelling.

Storytellers already rely heavily on AI: to propose opening scenes, devise plot twists, or brainstorm unconventional cliffhangers. But this individual creative boost comes with a downside, though. While individual creativity flourishes, collective creativity diminishes. Initial studies, classroom experiments, and media seminars confirm this trend. Individual students can achieve remarkable results with AI, but when looking at all the ideas generated by an entire class with AI, many stories start to look alike. Patterns become glaringly obvious. Plots grow predictable. Unsurprising, really—AI can only process what it’s fed, and this collective digital knowledge base is available to everyone.

But therein lies a glimmer of hope for storytellers and their jobs. While AI can provide a significant creative push, the most critical tasks—selection, decision-making, and curation—remain uniquely human. AI cannot take over these roles, as demonstrated recently by the hotly debated “AI-generated stories” from Coca-Cola and Vodafone. Both are fascinating examples of AI’s creative power—but neither resulted in a really good story.

Number 2 - The Second Most Asked Question: How manipulative is storytelling?

This evergreen question never fails to arise. “Manipulation” is defined as influencing people’s will without their consent or even against it. I wouldn’t go that far when discussing corporate or brand storytelling, as most consumers are savvy enough to understand the intent behind advertising and corporate communication. Finally, they can always click away, right?

But this question hides a deeper concern: the issue of deception. Storytelling is the “Trojan Horse” of advertising techniques. Storytellers entice audiences into captivating narrative worlds, introduce compelling protagonists with whom the audience identifies, and weave emotional plots—all before pivoting to the actual product or brand message. Yes, it’s cunning. Yes, it’s a veiled approach. And yes, some might label it “manipulative.” But isn’t that always true of advertising and PR?

Beneath this concern lies an even more audacious question: How do storytellers handle the truth?

Here’s my clear, perhaps surprising answer: storytellers don’t need the truth. Brutal as that sounds, it’s true. Ask J.K. Rowling or George Lucas, two of the greatest storytellers of the 20th century. Stories can be either fictional or real, and the same choice is available to companies and brands.

What matters is that the audience can distinguish between the two. And here lies one of the greatest challenges of the 21st century (aside from climate change and species extinction): the growing blurring of fiction and reality.

Three key drivers fuel this troubling trend:

1. We can no longer trust our eyes. No image or video reliably depicts reality anymore. Almost every photo or video is automatically optimized by our smartphones using AI technology. This matters because visual content is the internet’s most coveted currency. Demand isn’t for mere documentation but for “narrative material”—images and videos that reveal compelling stories. Yet we can no longer discern whether these stories are true or fake. (No, an ice bear cub wasn’t rescued from a melting ice floe. Too many fell for this convincingly fake story on LinkedIn.)
   
   
2. Lying has become acceptable. The eighth commandment is long forgotten. The rules of communication have grown harsher. Success doesn’t go to the truthful but to the loudest, to those with the most sensational story. This is evident in politics and is increasingly creeping into society and business. PR faces a challenge: how far should one stretch the truth to gain attention?
   
   
3. Credibility is built not on facts but on narrative logic and repetition. A story that is in itself consistent seems more credible than facts that contradict one’s beliefs. And the more often a story is repeated, the more it solidifies. Storytelling thus becomes a weapon in a communication landscape indifferent to the distinction between truth and fiction. Welcome to the post-truth world, where storytellers reign supreme.

Number 3 - The Third Most Asked Question: Will storytelling wear out?

For 15 years, I’ve focused on storytelling in corporate communication and marketing. And for 15 years, the question has persisted: “If everyone uses storytelling, won’t audiences grow tired of it?” My confident response has always been: “Absolutely not. Humanity has been telling stories for 40,000 years. Why would we lose our appetite for them now?”

That was my answer—until 2024. Just before Christmas, I saw Obi’s ad, “DIY from Heart.” Grammatically awkward title aside, the story had everything a good narrative needs: a tension-filled arc with multiple climaxes, empathetic protagonists, and a highly emotional theme. But wait a moment—doesn’t the melancholy atmosphere feel oddly familiar from Edeka’s 2015 ad, “Homecoming”? Isn’t the coloring almost identical? And the twist ending (no spoilers here) feels overdramatic and contrived?

Perhaps we are growing weary of sentimental, predictable, and increasingly formulaic “Christmas stories”—I certainly have. But hey, it’s Christmas, and perhaps I should be less critical. But one final plea: no more employee videos beginning with “My name is XYZ. My job is xyz and I’ve been with the company for XYZ years.” There are far too many of these stories, and AI can produce them just as easily. Instead, for 2025 and beyond, we need stories that prove they are made by humans—for humans (not algorithms).

Finally what I am always asked: What is your favorite story?

This question comes as no surprise. When someone is passionate about corporate and brand storytelling, they’re naturally asked about their favorite. But the answer is tough because there are so many great stories to highlight. It’s easier to answer the question about my favorite film: Birdy (1984), an anti-war film starring Matthew Modine and Nicolas Cage, directed by Alan Parker. (This answer often disappoints because many haven’t seen the film. My recommendation: watch it!)

As for my favorite corporate or brand story, I’ll simplify by naming a standout from the past year: Patagonia’s “The Observers.” This 24-minute documentary isn’t about delivering quick content. Instead, it allows viewers to deeply connect with Karin and Lennart, a couple who have spent 36 years observing the sky as weather watchers in Sweden. The film addresses climate change and environmental protection, aligning seamlessly with Patagonia’s mission: “We’re in business to save our home planet.” But it’s also a touching portrait of two people who deeply understand each other, share humor, and remain as in love as ever after so many years. It’s a gentle yet powerful example of how good storytelling doesn’t need much to leave a lasting impact.

Your are still reading? 

You should know, this text was not written by a machine. That’s why it’s not concise, optimized, or brief. Those who know me know also that I have a tendency for long answers (my sincerest apologies to podcasters, interviewers, and moderators whose patience I undoubtedly tested in 2024).

If you’ve read this far, I’m genuinely grateful. You’ve demonstrated patience and perseverance—two qualities we’ll all need in 2025. The coming year promises to be a wild ride. I wish you relaxing and joyful holidays to recharge your batteries, and all the best—along with nerves of steel—for the new year. I hope we cross paths, as those encounters often lead to the best stories.

I wish you Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, Petra