The Challenge with Challenging Everything
Why “This Is Broken” Might Be the Most Broken Message of All
The other night I was sitting with a friend who could out-market most of us in his sleep. He’s a digital agency CEO; smart, strategic, and allergic to fluff. Midway through a conversation about messaging, he dropped it:
“I’m just tired of the whole ‘everything is broken, here’s my fix’ thing. Everyone’s doing it.”
And I’ll be honest: I winced. Not because he was wrong. But because… well, I do this. Constantly. Weekly. I’m practically a ‘broken system’ sommelier.
We’ve all got a version of this message in our arsenal.
The classic framework: Name the villain. Provide the antidote.
The modern twist: Everything is broken. I have the better way.
But here’s the thing:
That move doesn’t hit the same anymore.
Not because the world’s not broken (God, it is).
But because naming that brokenness has become more cliché than clarifying.
We’ve worn the groove down to the bone.
What used to sound bold now sounds boring.
What used to spark urgency now scans as performative.
And worst of all, it flattens the audience. Turns them into passive recipients instead of willing participants. Which is maybe why we’re losing traction with the very people we’re trying to reach.
The gospel of disruption is starting to sound suspiciously…status quo.
So Why Do We Keep Defaulting to Brokenness?
Because it works. Or at least…it used to.
There’s a reason “pain points” are still in every pitch deck. There’s a reason teams spend whole offsites identifying what’s wrong with the world and how their product is going to save it. This approach feels natural. Familiar. A way to prove relevance.
But here’s the hard truth: It’s become expected. And when your audience knows exactly what move you’re about to make, you’ve already lost their attention.
And if we’re honest? A lot of us are more fluent in pointing out dysfunction than in painting possibility. We know how to name the system that failed us. We’re less practiced in naming the world we want to build instead.
That takes imagination. That takes restraint. That takes weirdness.
And look. Like I said, I’m Suspect #1 here! The irony's not lost on me. This very essay employs the same format I’m interrogating. But hey, sometimes the only way out of a loop is to name it first. So let’s consider this a turning point, not a punchline. Which brings us to the question that matters most: if not this... then what?
Three New Ways to Message Without Saying ‘Everything Is Broken’
Let’s get practical. Because while critique is easy, replacement is harder.
Here are three alternative frameworks for crafting messages that still resonate, still differentiate—but don’t default to brokenness as the hook.
1. The Possibility Frame
Humans move faster toward hope than they do away from despair. Ask any Disney protagonist. The “I Wish” moment is the heart of transformation. We don’t need to sell a fix—we need to invite a future. This is about activating the imagination, not just diagnosing the pain.
Instead of spotlighting what’s failing, cast a light on what’s emerging.
“What if your work felt like an extension of your values?”
“What if feminism felt like something men—and everyone—actually feel invited to?”
“What if market traction looked like becoming more of who your market already trusts you to be?”
2. The Kinship Frame
This one’s subtle, but powerful. It shifts your posture from oracle to fellow traveler. From leader to neighbor. It invites empathy before authority. You’re not above the audience. You’re beside them.
In this frame, you’re not offering the solution. You’re offering solidarity.
“I’ve been there.”
“This confused me too.”
“Let’s figure this out together.”
3. The “Nothing to Prove” Frame
This frame shifts the center of gravity. You’re not here to convince anyone you matter. You already do. You’re not trying to win attention. You’re stewarding something worth receiving.
There’s no urgency here—only generous confidence. Not because there’s nothing at stake, but because what’s at stake is too sacred to be sensationalized.
“Here’s what we’ve been nurturing. If it resonates, it’s yours.”
“We've always done this one thing uniquely. Here's why we're not stopping any time soon."
"Here's a hard-won secret..."
The “Challenge with Challenging Everything” Challenge
I’m not saying never name what’s broken.
I’m saying perhaps we shouldn't always lead with it, lean on it, make our whole identity the thing we're against.
Because that’s not where trust actually begins.
Trust begins with an echo.
In the quiet click of recognition.
In the flicker of a better world someone didn’t have words for—until you gave them some.
Maybe the more interesting message isn’t “I fix what’s broken.”
Maybe it’s:
“I see what you’ve been sensing.”
“I believe what you’re barely beginning to believe.”
“I build for that.”


