The Most Dangerous Content Advice I Keep Hearing
I’ve heard a lot of bad content advice over the years.
Some of it well-meaning. Some of it recycled from a 2012 Moz blog. And some of it, let’s be honest, is just plain lazy.
The kind that gets passed around in marketing Slack groups and ends up shaping strategies that feel efficient on paper… but quietly kill your brand from the inside.
If you’ve ever sat through a call where someone said, “just get ChatGPT to write it,” or “we just need to publish 20 blogs a month,” you’re not alone. But you are being sold a shortcut that’s probably leading you away from what actually works.
Because the truth is, bad content advice rarely shows up with flashing red flags. It shows up dressed as common sense. Best practice. “What the big brands are doing.”
So here’s my personal hit list. The most dangerous, reputation-draining content advice I keep hearing, and what to do instead.
Short on time? Here are the key takeaways
AI should support your content, not speak for it: Fully AI-led strategies erode trust and sound like everyone else.
Publishing more won’t save you: Volume without value just creates noise and content fatigue.
Your blog isn’t a funnel, it’s your reputation: Every post should build authority, not just chase conversions.
Copying what’s ranking won’t help you stand out: Original insight beats recycled SEO fluff every time.
Writing for algorithms is backwards: Google now prioritises human relevance over keyword stuffing.
The Worst Content Advice I Keep Hearing
“Just use AI for everything”
I get the appeal. AI tools are fast, cheap, and surprisingly convincing, until you actually read what they wrote.
There’s this idea floating around that you can hand over your entire content strategy to ChatGPT, crank out 30 articles a month, and magically build authority. But here’s what that usually gets you: polite, robotic-sounding content that technically ticks SEO boxes… and emotionally ticks nothing.
I’ve worked with brands that’ve tried it. The ones who pumped out AI-only content with zero human input? Their traffic flatlined. Engagement dropped. And worst of all, their content stopped reflecting what they actually knew.
That’s the real danger. Not just bad writing, but brand erosion. Because when every article sounds like it was written by a well-read intern who’s clearly never actually ‘walked the digital walk’, it starts to shine through pretty damn quickly.
The fix? Use AI to assist, not lead.
Let it summarise research. Help structure outlines. Speed up rewrites. But always bring your own insight, tone, and judgment to the table because content isn’t just a task. It’s how people decide if they trust you.
I recently wrote an article on the hidden cost of AI-generated content. Check it out after you’ve read this.
“We need to publish more content to get better rankings”
This one’s got roots.
For years, content marketers were taught that publishing more = ranking more = winning more.
And to be fair, that used to work. Back when competition was lower, search was simpler, and most brands didn’t have a blog (or a clue).
But now? Volume without value just makes noise.
I’ve seen brands burn out entire content budgets chasing velocity goals. Twenty posts a month, all keyword-stuffed to the edge of reason, none of them particularly helpful.
Internally, it looks productive. Externally, it looks like you’re desperately trying to be heard but don’t have much to say.
More content isn’t the same as more clarity. And it definitely isn’t the same as more trust.
Publishing fast might get you a temporary visibility bump. But if what you’re sharing feels rushed, generic, or a bit “SEO by spreadsheet,” you’re teaching your audience to tune you out.
The fix? Say fewer things, better.
Prioritise content that feels lived-in. Pieces that are anchored in actual perspective, experience, or proof. Slow it down, sharpen the message, and focus on quality that compounds, not just quantity that clogs.
Check out my recent article on the content velocity trap for more guidance on this ongoing issue that many brands suffer from.
“Your blog is your funnel”
This one pains me, especially as someone who makes a living helping brands create, plan, and execute a great blog page.
It’s not that this one is completely wrong. Blogs can generate leads. But treating every post like a glorified landing page? That’s where things fall apart.
I’ve seen brands obsess over CTAs, conversion paths, and funnel logic, only to publish blogs that read like awkward sales pitches wearing content as a disguise.
You get the worst of both worlds: not informative enough to build trust, not persuasive enough to convert.
The bigger issue? This mindset reduces your blog to a transactional tool. It forgets that content can do other jobs, such as building authority, shaping perception, educating future buyers, and keeping your brand front of mind long before someone is ready to “book a demo.”
Content isn’t just a step in the funnel. It is the brand.
When people read your blog, they’re not thinking “Which stage of the journey am I in?” They’re thinking, “Is this interesting? Do I trust this person? Do they get what I’m dealing with?”
Publish stuff that helps your audience think differently. Position yourself as an expert. It earns you a seat at the table before the sales conversation even starts.
Check out my recent post on where I pitch the case for not ranking at the top of the SERP (crazy, I know).
“Just copy what’s ranking”
This one’s a classic. “Find the top results, reword them slightly, sprinkle in some extra H2s, and boom, rankings!”
Except… no.
What you’re actually doing is turning your brand into a cover band. Same lyrics, slightly different rhythm.
And your audience? They can tell.
So can Google.
So can every potential customer who's read five AI-flavoured listicles this week and is now quietly losing the will to live.
I’ve worked with brands that built entire content calendars around mimicking whatever was on page one.
It feels safe, right?
Proven topic, existing demand. But what they ended up with was a blog that looked like everyone else’s. Same takes. Same angles. Same polite fence-sitting.
The result? Zero differentiation. And a quiet credibility leak that’s hard to fix once it sets in.
The fix? Don’t copy. Contribute.
Look at what’s ranking, sure. But then ask:
What’s missing?
What’s outdated?
What perspective hasn’t been shared yet?
Better still, bring in your own data, experience, or real-world examples. That’s the stuff algorithms and readers both lean into.
“Write for algorithms, not people”
You’ve seen the symptoms. Sentences that feel like keyword salad. Headings stuffed with every variation of a phrase. Intros written purely for crawlability, not clarity.
It’s the kind of content that technically follows SEO rules… but sounds like it was assembled by committee and edited by a toaster.
Lately, I’ve seen a wave of LinkedIn posts pushing this mindset even harder, especially around AI search. “Write like a machine because the machines are reading it.” “Optimise for AI summaries.” All without a single case study, real-world result, or even a sniff of what actual readers want.
The more you contort your content for algorithms (especially imagined future ones), the less useful it becomes for the humans who are meant to read it. And guess what the algorithms are getting better at tracking?
Engagement signals. Time on page. Relevance.
The human stuff.
Use natural language. Make your headers useful. Bake in search intent. But don’t let structure smother substance. Because if your content only exists to appease a bot, it won’t move a person. And if it doesn’t move a person, it doesn’t move the needle.
Closing Thoughts
There’s no shortage of content advice out there.
Some of it’s helpful. Some of it’s just confidently repeated nonsense with a Canva carousel behind it.
But the real danger? The stuff that sounds sensible. The advice that gets shared in team meetings and strategy decks because it’s familiar, even if it quietly steers you off course.
The truth is, content that builds trust, earns backlinks, and shapes perception doesn’t come from shortcuts. It comes from clarity. Consistency. Thought. And a bit of guts to say something real, not just something optimised.
So if your current content plan includes any of the advice above, it might be time for a rethink.
Start with what you know. Write for the people you want to help. And if you’re still not sure where to draw the line between useful and forgettable, drop me a line at graeme@gwcontent.co.uk.