Deepika Salwankar

MMXXVI

The lead

4 min

01

Why every AI company sounds identical.

A short investigation into what happens when a category grows faster than its vocabulary. Includes a partial glossary, one apology, and a modest proposal.

There is a game I play at work. Take ten AI vendor homepages, cover the logos, match each company to its own copy. I lose every time, and not because the products are similar. A contract review tool and a sales forecasting engine touch different data, sit with different teams, fail in different ways. Both will tell me they use agentic AI to seamlessly integrate with my existing stack.

If one paragraph can describe two unrelated products, it is describing neither.

This is not laziness. I have watched this copy get made, and the emptiness is the output of great care. A young category gets its vocabulary from analysts and investors, not buyers, so the homepage is written to be legible to the quadrant and the next funding round. Precision feels dangerous, because describing exactly what you do also describes what you don't, and vague words are option value. Then review does the rest. Legal cuts the number, sales adds "enterprise-grade," the founder swaps in their investor's verb. What survives is the sentence nobody could object to, which is the sentence nobody remembers.

A partial glossary

agentic
it retries when it fails.
copilot
autocomplete, plus a brand team.
enterprise-grade
we have SSO and a SOC 2 report, please stop asking.
human in the loop
wrong often enough that we need you to check.
seamless integration
there is an API, and a solutions engineer whose whole job exists because of what "seamless" is covering for.
trusted by leading enterprises
two logos cleared legal.

One apology

I wrote these sentences for years, at two AI startups, from zero. I have personally shipped "seamlessly orchestrate omnichannel engagement." Every word was locally defensible. The sentence, taken whole, told the reader nothing that forty other companies weren't also telling them. There is a specific small shrug you feel when a line will pass review and say nothing, and I got very good at ignoring it. Sorry. You deserved a sentence with content in it.

The punishment fits the crime: I now sit on the buyer's side, inside a large bank, reading this language for a living. What we need to know is boring. What it does, what data it touches, what happens when it's wrong. The website answers none of it, so every claim gets re-litigated in calls and security questionnaires, and the copy that was supposed to open the door is why the door takes four months. The most useful vendor document I ever received was a two-page architecture diagram with caveats written by an engineer, visibly unreviewed by marketing. I understood the product in four minutes.

A modest proposal

A budget. Three category words per page, spent wherever they earn their keep. Everything else must pass one test: could this sentence be false?

"Reduces contract review time by a third for a mid-market legal team" could be false. Someone could check, which is exactly why it means something. "Unlocks productivity across the enterprise" cannot be false, so it means nothing.

And say one thing your product does not do, in public. The vendor willing to state a boundary is presumed honest about everything inside it.

The first company in this category to sound like a person will be mistaken for the leader. The position is still open.