
Time
published content titled, “The Tech Bro-ification of Marketing,” whereby the
author believes White men are seizing control of marketing despite being
outnumbered by White women.
Okay, except
it’s common knowledge the White men versus White women numbers skew in favor of
females, but White men still dominate in positions of power and pay.
And don’t
forget White men and White women—separately and collectively—do waaaaay
better in the marketing arena than people of color.
The true
problem remains the whitewashing—that is, white privilege, systemic whiteness,
and white supremacy—of marketing.
The Tech
Bro-ification of Marketing
By Miranda
Shanahan
Miranda
Shanahan is a brand consultant, content creator, and speaker.
Scroll through
LinkedIn, and you will find a flurry of new job listings with curious titles:
“Narrative Engineer”, “UGC Engineer”, “Media Engineer.” At first glance, they
sound like entirely new disciplines. Look closer, and they feel suspiciously
familiar.
As someone who
has built a decade-long career in the marketing industry, I wondered: Why are
these marketing roles being relabeled? I took my question to social media. “Is
marketing being rebranded so boys can do it too?” I quipped on TikTok between
meetings.
I checked back
a few hours later, and my comments section was aflame with marketers, tech
folk, and VCs. Some had sensed something was off but couldn’t quite name it;
others shared the most absurd titles they’d come across; and some pushed back,
arguing that something genuinely new was emerging.
The tech
bro-ification of marketing is underway. It’s not the first time a profession
has been repackaged like this. But beneath this trend lies a broader pattern
around how work is named, coded, and valued. The question: why is this
happening to marketing—and why now?
Part of the
answer lies in who marketing has come to be associated with. According to a study
by the Association of National Advertisers (ANA), 67% to 70% of marketing
practitioners are women, making it one of the few female-dominated fields in
the corporate sector. Research consistently shows that as a profession becomes
associated with women, its pay and status tend to decline, and marketing is no
exception. Plenty of professions skew one way or another, but those patterns
aren’t driven by biology but rather our cultural stereotypes about who is good
at what kind of work.
The marketing
industry is a broad church, but decades of cultural shorthand have flattened it
into something quite specific. Shows like Sex and the City and, more
recently, Emily in Paris have portrayed marketing as women and gay men
throwing parties and coming up with zany ideas. Over on social media, this has
calcified into the “marketing girlie” trope: the personality hire who makes
things pretty in Canva and forces her boss to do TikTok dances. The cliché of a
tech bro, by contrast, is that of a hyper-optimized lone wolf genius. These are
stereotypes, but they have economic implications.
The perceived
value of a profession, the language used to describe it, and who is seen to be
performing it have always been intertwined. Before “software engineer” was a
job title, coding was a secretarial task, mainly done by women. Cosmopolitan
even ran an article in 1967 titled The Computer Girls, touting it as an
ideal career for women.
Software was “soft”
work versus the “hard” work of building physical things. Even Margaret
Hamilton, a computer scientist at NASA in the 1960s, described feeling like a
misplaced “stepchild” among the hardware engineers.
Hamilton coined
the term “software engineer” in an effort to get her work taken seriously, much
to the amusement of her almost exclusively male colleagues. Yet through the 70s
and 80s, “software engineering” emerged as a bona fide profession: well-paid,
prestigious, and over time, predominantly male.
There were many
different forces responsible for the shifting demographics of the software
engineering profession, but it is undeniable that changing language has a habit
of changing who feels welcome. Research has shown that women are less likely to
apply for roles unless they feel they are 100% qualified or, in other words,
welcome.
The same
dynamic is now playing out in marketing in reverse. In consumer brands,
marketing has always been a core discipline. I would argue Nike’s most valuable
asset isn’t the technical spec of a sneaker, but the story around it. However,
in Silicon Valley, the hierarchy works differently: those who build sit above
those who sell. Except now the very thing they’ve relied on for growth—coding
and technical creation—has been commoditized by AI.
The first
inkling of recalibration came when tech bros suddenly started emphasizing the
importance of taste. “Taste is a new core skill,” declared OpenAI co-founder
Greg Brockman. “In the AI age, taste will become even more important. When
anyone can make anything, the big differentiator is what you choose to make,” pronounced
technologist Paul Graham.
As Snap CEO
Evan Spiegel put it: AI makes it easier to build new products, so distribution
is the biggest challenge facing consumer technology businesses.
The truth is
that taste, distribution, and marketing have always been important. But
now that AI is cheapening other kinds of work, tech has been forced to admit
that marketing actually matters.
The problem is,
“marketing” comes with baggage. Decades of cultural coding have made it a hard
sell internally, so tech is dressing it up in clothes they feel comfortable
wearing. Brand strategists become narrative engineers. Marketing managers
become growth architects. This shouldn't be much of a surprise. Tech has a
penchant for taking familiar ideas and selling them back to us as
revolutionary. Taxis become Ubers, bed and breakfasts become Airbnbs. Marketing
is just the Emperor’s latest outfit.
In some cases,
these roles are genuinely becoming more technical, but mostly the language is
being stretched so thin it’s hard to separate reality from corporate fiction.
Just like using a calculator doesn’t make you a mathematician, using vibe
coding and automation tools doesn’t make you an engineer. Marketing has always
been part science, part art. The irony is, AI is automating the technical parts
faster than anything else. Creative intuition, human judgment, and, yes, taste,
are still the hardest things to replace. Yet still, employers reach for
technical language to signal value.
Perhaps the
upside will be that job titles with a technical veneer could command higher
salaries and more respect from leaders who respond better to “engineer” than
“marketer.” The problem, though, is the more we conflate value with tech, the
more we devalue the art of marketing and the people who practice it.
It might not
seem that deep, but marketing’s rebrand is part of a bigger pattern. When you
control the vocabulary of a field, you decide who deserves a place. Tech has
always been good at making familiar ideas feel like breakthroughs, and
marketing is just the latest one.