Does anybody even read websites anymore?

Okay, imma need you to be honest with me: when was the last time you actually read a brand’s website?

And I don’t mean skimming for a menu link or scrolling to find an email address… I mean read it, intentionally and thoughtfully, like you cared about what it was trying to tell you.

Exactly.

This is why I feel like recently, websites have ever so quietly stopped being the centre stage for brand storytelling.

Once upon a time, your website was your digital house.

You’d welcome people in, show them around, and maybe impress them with your quirky copy about “disrupting the future of [insert industry]". But now, nobody’s showing up. Like that dusty old gas station on the side of a once popular highway, left to rot once the public found a faster route.

And that’s exactly it. Because now, people discover brands through TikTok, build trust through newsletters, and get convinced to buy on Instagram or LinkedIn. These “routes” are a more natural part of our scroll. They're more immediate, less of a task.

And thus, the homepage is no longer where your story begins.

This shift is bigger than just “we spend more time on social.” It’s about how distribution has replaced destination.

A decade ago, your website was THE final word. You owned the space, the tone, the navigation. Every pixel was a controlled experience. Now, brand storytelling lives in ecosystems you don’t own: Substack, TikTok, YouTube, even Medium or Reddit threads. These platforms have trained audiences to expect stories that feel human, reactive, and, most importantly, alive.

Meanwhile, a website just kinda … sits there (hellooo, anyone home?).

It’s no surprise then, that this migration has come with a sort of loss of control for brands.

Because when your story is fragmented across a dozen platforms, it’s hard to know who’s holding the pen. The Substack version of your voice might be warm and reflective. Your TikTok might be chaotic and meme-coded. Your LinkedIn presence? Obviously polished and vaguely inspirational, like a founder mid-morning-whimhoff-breathwork-lightbulb-moment.

It’s cohesive in spirit, maybe, but not really in form.

That means we’re in this strange in between era: brands want to feel personal like creators but still be consistent like companies. And the old rules of brand architecture don’t apply when every platform speaks a different dialect.

That’s why storytelling today isn’t about where you tell the story, but how adaptable your narrative is.

Can it survive being filtered through trends, reposted by fans and remixed by the algorithm? Can it sound like you even when someone else is the one saying it?

Because whether we like it or not, storytelling has become a shared exercise. You don’t get to write the whole thing anymore, sweetie--you just set the tone.

The internet fills in the rest.

So yeah, we very rarely read websites anymore. But now, we read voices, follow personalities and subscribe to people who resonate and make us feel something. If your brand can actually do that, consistently, across borrowed spaces, you’re freaking winning, friend.

Your website can and still needs to exist, of course. It just might not be the living room anymore. Maybe it’s the backyard, where you end up with a vodka soda, after chasing the story through the wild (www.)

Not going viral yet?

We get it. Creating content that does numbers is harder than it looks. But doing those big numbers is the fastest way to grow your brand. So if you’re tired of throwing sh*t at the wall and seeing what sticks, you’re in luck. Because making our clients go viral is kinda what we do every single day.

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