The Illusion of a Strong Brand
April 8, 2026, by Joanna Dziekonska
We’ve been sold the idea that the answer lies in building a brand, refining narrative, or elevating visual identity — but what if the issue runs deeper?
Branding, done well, is one of the most powerful tools a business has. It makes the right people feel seen before they've even been spoken to. It can build trust at a distance.
Done poorly or dishonestly, it does the opposite. It erodes trust, builds on unstable foundations, and eventually costs more than it earns.
I've seen both sides.
When I went deeper into branding, I met something I hadn't anticipated. Language being bluntly copied, ethics discarded. Positioning that looked credible but wasn’t anchored in real work.
At one point, I came across a rebrand from someone in the field whose work I had followed. When I looked at it, I recognised something. Not a vague similarity, or inspiration drawn from different sources. Key sections, positioning statements, and the specific framing I had built derived closely from my own work.
I knew their previous positioning well enough to recognise the difference. What struck most was the irony. They were a brand strategist and vocal about a human-centred approach. The gap between positioning and practice became its own kind of lesson.
It wasn't a coincidence. I share this because the pattern is more common than most admit, yet rarely discussed openly.
It made me question something fundamental: when does branding stop reflecting truth and start manufacturing perception?
This is the illusion: a strong brand that isn't built from the inside out can still look convincing to an audience that doesn't know better, to an algorithm rewarding consistency, even to the person building it. Until it no longer holds.
History shows the most enduring brands are rarely the most polished or the most visible. They're the most genuine ones. Specific to the person behind them, and grounded in what they've actually lived, built, and earned, beyond the accolades that look good on paper.
That realisation also prompted something deeper. I had confined myself to branding and, in doing so, left the full scope of my experience and what I bring to the table.
In retrospect, it was a blessing in disguise. It opened lessons and opportunities I hadn’t expected, leading to more fulfilling work, beyond what I share online.
If you're building a brand or questioning the one you have, a useful question isn't ''how does this look?'' It's ''what is this actually built on?''
And perhaps this is the real distinction:
A strong brand can be copied in language. It cannot be copied in substance. And a discerning reader can see what sits behind even the most refined narratives.
Joanna