A World Addicted to Spectacle Needs to Be Offered Substance

Best Ever You
5 hours ago
3 min read

Updated: 1 hour ago

A love letter to the ones building quietly, with grace.

For the thinkers, feelers, and builders of lasting things.

By Elizabeth Hamilton-Guarino

Ours is a world deeply addicted to spectacle.

We reward speed over depth, chaos over clarity, performance over principle.

And in the race to be seen, we’re forgetting how to see.

I see you. Bright, fast, and always moving. Captivated by what’s loudest, drawn to what sparkles, pulled toward what shocks.

But I also see what you’re missing. What you're yearning for underneath the noise.

I see your hunger for what’s real. For depth. For meaning. For something that doesn’t vanish in a swipe.

Somewhere along the path, we traded truth for attention. We confused performance with purpose. We started measuring worth in numbers and noise. And we began asking people not just to show up—but to stand out, no matter the cost.

But the truth is: You don’t need the spotlight to be the light. You don’t have to break to be relevant. You don’t have to entertain to be enough.

The Era of “Look at Me!”

Somewhere along the way, visibility became confused with value.

Followers became currency.

Drama became strategy.

Authenticity was edited for engagement.

In this digital arena, the biggest spotlight often lands on the boldest breakdown or the flashiest presentation—not the most grounded truth.

We’ve turned disruption into an identity and applause into oxygen.

But what are we breathing in, really?

And more importantly—what are we leaving behind?

We Are Starving for Substance

Beneath the curated content and constant commentary, we are starving.

We are longing for the kind of voice that doesn’t just grab attention—but holds it with gentleness.

Beneath the noise, there’s an ache. A quiet longing for something real.

We are starving for:

Substance over spectacle
Stillness over speed
Wisdom over performance
Connection over consumption
Consistency over chaos
Peace over performance
Compassion over competition
Presence over perfection

We don’t need more noise. We need more people willing to build slow, steady, meaningful things.

🛠️ What Substance Looks Like

Substance is not as flashy. It’s not as viral. It doesn’t beg for your attention—it earns your trust.

The people creating true impact often go unnoticed for a while.

They’re not shouting. They’re serving. They’re not chasing algorithms. They’re cultivating alignment.

Substance is the quiet teacher. The long walk. The unfiltered truth. It’s the podcast episode you return to three times. It’s the book you underline. It’s the leader who doesn’t need to be followed—but is worth following.

Substance is the quiet hand on your back when you’re about to give up. It’s the person who listens deeply and speaks with intention. It’s the leader who doesn’t need the stage to lead. It’s the creator who chooses alignment over applause. It’s the message you don’t forget, even when the moment passes.

Substance is slow. It’s steady. It’s real.

It doesn’t crash through the door—it becomes the foundation.

When the spectacle fades (and it always does), what remains?

Who were we listening to when no one else was speaking sense?

Who were we learning from when we finally got tired of being entertained?

What words stayed when the trending ones disappeared?

This is not a takedown of creativity or charisma. It’s an invitation to integrity. To build something that doesn’t require the spotlight to stay lit. To return to the kind of work that feels like purpose—not performance.

I wrote The Change Guidebook and The Success Guidebook because I believe in a different kind of success. One that doesn’t sacrifice your soul for your goals. One that doesn’t ask you to trade your values for visibility. One that says: