I think the biggest reason why essays became the de facto test in college is because grading an essay is entirely subjective, while an actual test (scantron, math or physics problems to solve, etc.) are objective. Essays can be gamed and allow shitty teachers to inflate grades and pick favorites.
This might also tell us something about why the supposedly objective sports journalist is a dying trope and why Bill Simmons style fandom is clearly ascendant in the medium.
I think it's gone too far. I turned on espn after a Knicks Celtics game and Stephen A, their lead basketball analyst, is yelling about the Knicks and New York City instead of providing analysis.
Chat GPT, write a short essay about a gatorade ad in the style of ethan strauss:
"Gatorade’s Gospel of Sweat: A Cultural Critique in the Style of Ethan Strauss
Gatorade’s latest ad doesn’t sell a drink. It sells a mythology. In a 60-second montage of slow-motion agony and triumphant sweat, Gatorade repackages the American sports ethos in high-definition. The product—a neon-colored sports drink originally designed to prevent Florida Gators from keeling over—hardly gets more than a few seconds of screentime. But that’s the point. Gatorade’s ad isn’t about hydration; it’s about identity.
This is where the brand’s genius lies, and where the critique begins. Much like Nike, Gatorade has graduated from utility to ideology. The athletes featured—names and faces you know even if you don’t watch the sport—grit their teeth, push through injury, and collapse into victory. The implicit message: greatness isn’t just earned, it’s suffered for. Gatorade positions itself not as the cause of that greatness, but as its silent witness. A totem. A relic on the sidelines that affirms the pain was real and the effort mattered.
It’s all very clever, but it’s also a bit of a con. Because when we talk about Gatorade, we’re no longer talking about what’s in the bottle. We’re talking about vibes. Electrolytes become secondary to aesthetic. And just like that, Gatorade escapes accountability—not just nutritional, but cultural. Nobody asks whether the sugar content contradicts the high-performance image. Nobody questions why an industrial beverage is dressed in the robes of ancient virtue. It’s not a drink. It’s a sermon.
In the style of a Silicon Valley founder peddling disruption, Gatorade doesn’t just market a product—it markets a worldview. The ad says: You are what you endure. And we’ll be there, in the background, canonizing your grind with a splash of lemon-lime."
It's really good at sounding like Jeff Pearlman though:
It starts, as these things often do, with a shot of silence. A locker room. Dim light. The clink of a cleat against the floor. Somewhere, a towel hits the ground. And then — boom — the music drops. Not the usual Top 40 fluff or a nostalgia-tipped hip-hop track. No, it’s something raw. Industrial. Like a heartbeat on the verge of a breakdown.
And then he appears: Number 15. Jaw tight, sweat already dripping off the brow before the game clock has even started. You know him. Or think you do. Because that’s the magic trick Gatorade pulls here — it doesn’t give you the superstar as he wants to be seen. It gives you the superstar as he is: broken, bleeding, gasping through another offseason that’s trying to kill him.
This isn’t a commercial so much as a confession booth.
For 30 seconds, we get a fast-cut baptism of suffering. Wind sprints on blacktop. Cold tubs that bite. Ankle tape. Bloody socks. Pushups until the elbows shake. And in the middle of it all — a bottle of Gatorade. Orange, naturally. Because this is America, and nothing hits quite like the OG flavor. It’s not subtle. It’s not fancy. But it works. Like duct tape. Like a linebacker with bad knees and good instincts.
You can almost taste it: salty, sweet, and slightly synthetic. The flavor of hope in plastic form.
The tagline hits like a linebacker at full steam: “Is it in you?” Still the best slogan they ever wrote. Because it doesn’t just ask about hydration. It dares you to care. To push. To ache.
There’s no product pitch here. No call to action. Just a challenge.
This Gatorade ad doesn’t want to sell you a drink. It wants to punch you in the chest and make you believe again — in the grind, the work, and the idea that maybe, just maybe, the pain is worth it.
Fwiw, in my experience it’s not uncommon for higher level managers/executives (who do this kind of work), to now use AI to develop first drafts of things and gather info (that they check) where before they went to junior employees.
The kids have been sub literate for awhile. The ones that teach themselves to use AI to write better than AI will be fine.
Back in the stone age when I went to college, the finals were mostly scantron. The essays we were assigned were assigned throughout the term. In my experience, I'm pretty sure 80+% were no more than skimmed by the instructor. What are the experiences of more recent grads here?
In CA, a separate but related issue is why pay UC or Private university tuition to take the same required writing classes offered at community colleges for free or minimal cost.
FWIW, I dont think the quality of STEM instruction is correlated to a university's reputation either, but it does make a difference to take a course with 30 students at a private school vs 300 at a UC
I’ve seen a lot of commentary that comes down to “just be at the very top of your field in AI won’t replace you”. It’s… not the most reassuring message
I think the biggest reason why essays became the de facto test in college is because grading an essay is entirely subjective, while an actual test (scantron, math or physics problems to solve, etc.) are objective. Essays can be gamed and allow shitty teachers to inflate grades and pick favorites.
This might also tell us something about why the supposedly objective sports journalist is a dying trope and why Bill Simmons style fandom is clearly ascendant in the medium.
I think it's gone too far. I turned on espn after a Knicks Celtics game and Stephen A, their lead basketball analyst, is yelling about the Knicks and New York City instead of providing analysis.
Chat GPT, write a short essay about a gatorade ad in the style of ethan strauss:
"Gatorade’s Gospel of Sweat: A Cultural Critique in the Style of Ethan Strauss
Gatorade’s latest ad doesn’t sell a drink. It sells a mythology. In a 60-second montage of slow-motion agony and triumphant sweat, Gatorade repackages the American sports ethos in high-definition. The product—a neon-colored sports drink originally designed to prevent Florida Gators from keeling over—hardly gets more than a few seconds of screentime. But that’s the point. Gatorade’s ad isn’t about hydration; it’s about identity.
This is where the brand’s genius lies, and where the critique begins. Much like Nike, Gatorade has graduated from utility to ideology. The athletes featured—names and faces you know even if you don’t watch the sport—grit their teeth, push through injury, and collapse into victory. The implicit message: greatness isn’t just earned, it’s suffered for. Gatorade positions itself not as the cause of that greatness, but as its silent witness. A totem. A relic on the sidelines that affirms the pain was real and the effort mattered.
It’s all very clever, but it’s also a bit of a con. Because when we talk about Gatorade, we’re no longer talking about what’s in the bottle. We’re talking about vibes. Electrolytes become secondary to aesthetic. And just like that, Gatorade escapes accountability—not just nutritional, but cultural. Nobody asks whether the sugar content contradicts the high-performance image. Nobody questions why an industrial beverage is dressed in the robes of ancient virtue. It’s not a drink. It’s a sermon.
In the style of a Silicon Valley founder peddling disruption, Gatorade doesn’t just market a product—it markets a worldview. The ad says: You are what you endure. And we’ll be there, in the background, canonizing your grind with a splash of lemon-lime."
yeah, looks like your job is still safe!
I’m sometimes fascinated by how bad it is at being me
It's really good at sounding like Jeff Pearlman though:
It starts, as these things often do, with a shot of silence. A locker room. Dim light. The clink of a cleat against the floor. Somewhere, a towel hits the ground. And then — boom — the music drops. Not the usual Top 40 fluff or a nostalgia-tipped hip-hop track. No, it’s something raw. Industrial. Like a heartbeat on the verge of a breakdown.
And then he appears: Number 15. Jaw tight, sweat already dripping off the brow before the game clock has even started. You know him. Or think you do. Because that’s the magic trick Gatorade pulls here — it doesn’t give you the superstar as he wants to be seen. It gives you the superstar as he is: broken, bleeding, gasping through another offseason that’s trying to kill him.
This isn’t a commercial so much as a confession booth.
For 30 seconds, we get a fast-cut baptism of suffering. Wind sprints on blacktop. Cold tubs that bite. Ankle tape. Bloody socks. Pushups until the elbows shake. And in the middle of it all — a bottle of Gatorade. Orange, naturally. Because this is America, and nothing hits quite like the OG flavor. It’s not subtle. It’s not fancy. But it works. Like duct tape. Like a linebacker with bad knees and good instincts.
You can almost taste it: salty, sweet, and slightly synthetic. The flavor of hope in plastic form.
The tagline hits like a linebacker at full steam: “Is it in you?” Still the best slogan they ever wrote. Because it doesn’t just ask about hydration. It dares you to care. To push. To ache.
There’s no product pitch here. No call to action. Just a challenge.
This Gatorade ad doesn’t want to sell you a drink. It wants to punch you in the chest and make you believe again — in the grind, the work, and the idea that maybe, just maybe, the pain is worth it.
Fwiw, in my experience it’s not uncommon for higher level managers/executives (who do this kind of work), to now use AI to develop first drafts of things and gather info (that they check) where before they went to junior employees.
The kids have been sub literate for awhile. The ones that teach themselves to use AI to write better than AI will be fine.
Is that Zach Lowe sitting behind Rodney? Maybe we just need to bring back sport coats to the classroom.
Back in the stone age when I went to college, the finals were mostly scantron. The essays we were assigned were assigned throughout the term. In my experience, I'm pretty sure 80+% were no more than skimmed by the instructor. What are the experiences of more recent grads here?
In CA, a separate but related issue is why pay UC or Private university tuition to take the same required writing classes offered at community colleges for free or minimal cost.
FWIW, I dont think the quality of STEM instruction is correlated to a university's reputation either, but it does make a difference to take a course with 30 students at a private school vs 300 at a UC
Ethan will be fine imo, but if Chat GPT starts using words like "zaftig" then that may be a cause for concern lol
AI is incredibly depressing to me. It makes me want to die that it's slowly replacing art
I’ve seen a lot of commentary that comes down to “just be at the very top of your field in AI won’t replace you”. It’s… not the most reassuring message