There's a growing flatness to creative work right now. Not because it's bad, but because so much of it arrives finished and leaves nothing behind.

You see it in feeds, decks, and launches. Everything looks competent. Everything reads well. And everything disappears almost immediately. AI didn't invent this, but it sped it up. When output becomes easy, output stops being impressive. When anyone can generate something polished, the result loses its power as proof.

For years, creative work was judged by what made it to the surface. The final frame, the campaign, the object. Process stayed hidden, either because it was messy or because it wasn't considered part of the work.

That only made sense when making was the barrier. Now the barrier has moved.

When the result is available to everyone, we start asking different questions. Not what is this, but how did you get here. Not does it look good, but do you understand why it looks like this.

That's why 2026 feels like the year the process becomes the art.

Not as performance. Not as behind-the-scenes content. But as signal. As evidence of judgement, taste, and skill.

AI is exceptional at collapsing steps. It removes drafts, friction, and wrong turns. It gives answers without showing the working. For a while, that felt efficient. Now it feels thin. Because friction was doing important work. It was where decisions were tested. It was where taste revealed itself.

When everything is fast, speed stops meaning anything. When everything is polished, polish becomes neutral. The work that holds attention now is the work that shows thinking, not just completion.

You can already sense the shift. Sketches shared instead of mockups. Notes instead of statements. People letting unfinished ideas breathe rather than rushing to present the final form.

Those moments carry weight.

Process shows. It shows what you chose not to do. In a world of infinite options, omission becomes a creative skill. This is where authenticity actually lives. Not in the aesthetic, but in the method.

When you see someone's process clearly, you can tell if they know what they're doing. You trust the work more because you can follow the thinking behind it. Trust moves upstream.

The process that matters is edited. Intentional. Calm. It reveals enough to show understanding without overwhelming the work.

Good process makes you think, I see how you got there. Even if I'd have taken a different route.

In 2026, creative skill won't be measured by what you can make. It'll be measured by how you think. By how you navigate uncertainty. By how you arrive at decisions when there's no obvious answer.

The art moves from the artefact to the architecture behind it.

And once that shift happens, the shortcut loses its shine.

The process becomes the proof.

Shot of the good stuff.