Brands are just "Brands"

After four years of studying economics, I’ve come to a painfully obvious conclusion: the entire notion of "brands"—especially the ones that people obsessively chase after—is completely ridiculous. And yet, somehow, here we are, still treating these brands as if they’re the epitome of success, the pinnacle of achievement. I can’t help but laugh—at how absurd it all is. It’s almost too funny to be true.

Here we are, a group of people trained in the art of analysis, armed with logic, critical thinking, and the tools to dissect systems at their core. But somehow, this same group of people—some of the most sharp-minded individuals I’ve ever met—ends up chasing the same set of companies, the same industries, like moths to a flame. How is that even possible? How can we, of all people, buy into this system so blindly?

I mean, think about it: we spend years dissecting markets, understanding incentives, and learning the very rules that govern these systems. But at the same time, we’re supposed to believe that these very systems—these companies and industries—are the ones we should be striving for, the ones that offer the promise of “success.” Isn’t that just hilarious? It’s like studying how a machine works and then eagerly lining up to become a cog in it, without ever questioning whether it’s a machine we even want to be part of.

The irony is thick. We know that money is just a tool, a mere intermediary that helps us exchange value, and yet we treat it like the holy grail. We’re taught that price is just an information aggregator, a reflection of supply and demand—but then, we chase after careers where the only thing that seems to matter is how much we can earn. Money, the very thing we know to be just a tool, becomes the goal. Why? Because that’s what we’ve been told is success. And for some reason, we all buy into it, without ever stopping to ask: Why?

The real kicker, though, is how people still want to join the very companies that were at the heart of some of the most disastrous events in recent history. The kind of companies that, for all their polished branding and prestige, are responsible for perpetuating systems that we know are fundamentally flawed. It’s almost laughable—how can we, after everything we’ve learned, after studying the very mechanics of these systems, still walk into these industries with open arms?

It’s like we’re living in some kind of paradox. We’re taught to think critically, but then, we end up walking straight into the same traps we’ve spent years analyzing. We talk about fairness, justice, and the greater good, but then eagerly line up to join the industries that prioritize profit over all else. We sit in classrooms, dissecting the failures of the financial system, but still consider these same industries to be the epitome of success. The cognitive dissonance is staggering. It’s as if the very thing that should make us more aware—our education, our analytical minds—actually makes us more susceptible to the illusion of success.

And let’s be real: it’s not just about the money. It’s about the brand. The prestige. The shiny image that’s been sold to us. This is what we’ve been conditioned to believe is the ultimate goal. But in reality, these are just brands. Empty, hollow brands that have been carefully constructed to make us believe they mean something more than they actually do. They are not the end-all-be-all. They are just companies, like any other, built on the same systems of exploitation and profit-maximization that we spend years learning about. The irony is thick, and it’s honestly kind of hilarious—how we’ve bought into this branding so completely.

The truth is, I get it. The allure is real. The salary, the connections, the prestige—it’s all so tempting. But what’s truly mind-boggling is how we’ve allowed ourselves to be swept into this race, all while knowing exactly how these systems operate. It’s as if we’ve forgotten everything we’ve been taught, all for the sake of a brand. And that, to me, is the funniest, most ridiculous part of it all. We’ve been sold a narrative, and we’re all too eager to play our parts. But at some point, we have to wake up and realize: we’re not chasing success; we’re chasing a brand. And that brand? It’s just a brand.

ps: I’m feeling a bit frustrated seeing so many people around me, as they graduate, rush into high-paying jobs rather than roles that focus on making a meaningful impact. While I understand that some are dealing with student loans or family responsibilities, it feels like a classic path to burnout. I wrote this to remind myself to stay true to who I am and what I really want out of my life and career.