I’m sure you’ve heard the tale of The Emperor’s New Clothes? A fable of a ruler so convinced of his own genius, he strutted naked through the streets while the crowd looked on, incredulously. Silly, right?
Or the Pied Piper of Hamelin, a man who played the perfect tune, until he changed key and lost the crowd. Would never happen.
How about Icarus, who flew too close to the sun, convinced altitude meant admiration? Or King Midas, who learned the hard way that some things are best left untouched.
These old stories all share one simple truth – ego makes a terrible compass.
Once upon a timeline
Three years ago, like the Emperor in his invisible robes, Elon Musk marched into Twitter convinced he could reinvent it by sheer force of personality. Declaring the dawn of X, he believed he was unveiling something visionary.
But while he was busy conducting his own coronation, the crowd stopped clapping and buggered off to TikTok.
The shift was simple – Twitter had a community; X now had a CEO.
Musk’s vision was a big one: to turn the world’s biggest community into an “everything app.” In doing so, the brand shed all the familiar brand signifiers – Tweet, ReTweet, the bird icon) and pushed forward new forms of behaviour.
The users were expected to learn a new language overnight. Their resistance is the real story.
The exodus wasn’t immediate, or very clean – even though the little blue bird may be long gone, the name still sings on. Twitter became part of the common language, alongside Google, Uber and Hoover.
But according to a 2024 survey, around 70% of UK adults still call it Twitter, and nearly nine in ten brands haven’t switched either.
“A surprise without the delight can be a real mis-step.”
What Emperor Musk failed to realise is that you can change direction any time you like, but don’t expect people to follow unless they feel part of the journey.
Twitter was a highly populated, global town square. To crash that mid-party with a new name, new rules, and a new tone of voice was like replacing Cinderella’s iconic glass slipper with a Croc.
Because brands don’t really belong to the people who run them, they belong to the people who use them.
How many CEO’s and leaders can you name from the countless companies, apps and products you use, drink and eat every day? Thought so.
Ask Sonic the Hedgehog, whose army of fans flat-out refused his new aesthetic, despite being 90% into the making of the first feature film.
They collectively managed to get Paramount to rework the design to get what they wanted.
But it’s much more than design; reinvention is about transforming what the brand means and how it feels. It’s a brand and culture transformation.
If that shift’s too sudden, self-centred, or too far from what people already believe, you’re not reinventing, you’re rupturing what you have.
Reinvention should be an evolution, not just an explosion – small, smart pivots beat a rocket-fuelled rebrand every time. And it’s not just a makeover.
As creatives, we are always trying to push the boundaries, taking a step, a leap, or a jump into a new creative vision, but only as long as the journey is progressing in the correct direction. A surprise without the delight can be a real mis-step.
Morals of the story
But what, from this tale, can we learn for brand transformation?
Simply put, heritage isn’t a burden. What came before keeps you grounded. Lose it completely, and you’re flying blind hoping people jump after you.
Change needs purpose. LEGO, continues to evolve impressively – still building, just in new worlds and cultures, across digital, STEM, sustainability and education. But never forgetting the bright, curious, playful nature that their audience warmly feels part of.
Your audiences are your compass. Change should mirror how people act, not how you wish they did. X changed its name faster than its users changed their vocab.
And meaning beats makeover. You can paint the shopfront, but if the story inside doesn’t change, people will leave unsatisfied.
If you’re planning a bold rebrand, ask, “What will people feel tomorrow that they don’t feel today?” Because if the answer is “confused,” you may have a problem.
Happy ever after?
So, with the platform still in decline since the 2022 takeover, and new platforms luring fresh generations elsewhere, what’s next for X/Twitter (because yes, we’re still calling it both)?
If there’s a moral here, it’s that reinvention without reflection rarely ends well. The greatest brands don’t demand belief – they earn it.
Call yourself whatever you like, but if no-one’s listening, the name doesn’t matter. And no-one wants to be the emperor at the end of the parade, wondering why the crowd has moved on.
Karl Gilbert, is creative director at BBD Perfect Storm.