Table of Contents

• Smoke, Mirrors, and Clickbait: The 10 Biggest Lies Adtech Wants You to Believe

• INSIGHT: Adam Heimlich

• INSIGHT: Mary Carpenter

• Sam Bloom’s AdTech Survival Guide: Machetes, Musical Chairs, and the Privacy Jungle

• AdTech: The Hero We Love to Hate (But Can’t Live Without)

• The Adtech Jungle: TTD

• By the Numbers

• No One Wants to Tell You This, But Here’s the Truth About Fixing AdTech

  • How Brian O'Kelley Plans to Fix the Adtech Mess He Created

  • Programmatic’s Dirty Laundry: Lou Paskalis Airs It All

The adtech industry is a house of mirrors where nothing is quite what it seems. They’ve been spinning tales so elaborate, they could rival a telenovela. Here are ten of their biggest lies — buckle up for the roast.

That most of adtech solves actual problems
Adtech pitches itself as the superhero of marketing, swooping in to save the day. But more often, it’s like a lifeguard who shows up with floaties when you’re drowning.

Most adtech tools are like buying an expensive kitchen gadget that promises to turn you into a gourmet chef but ends up collecting dust in a drawer because it takes a Ph.D. to operate. These tools don’t just create problems; they’ve spun an entire cottage industry of adtech “insiders” — consultants, trainers, and self-proclaimed experts — who make a living teaching media companies how to use these convoluted contraptions. It's like hiring a Sherpa to guide you up a hill you never needed to climb in the first place.

And let’s be honest: most of these tools are utter bullshit. They don’t work, and they sure as hell don’t make anything easier. Instead, they complicate workflows, suck up resources, and leave you scratching your head wondering why your campaigns are still underperforming. But, oh, they’ll dazzle you with buzzwords like “automation,” “optimization,” and “AI-driven insights.” The reality? They’re selling overhyped PowerPoints with a login page, dressed up to look like innovation but delivering little more than frustration.

The worst part? The media companies lap it up because these “insiders” promise they’re the key to staying competitive. In truth, it’s a racket. You’ve got tools that don’t work, experts teaching you how to use them, and an industry that’s more interested in selling solutions to non-existent problems than actually fixing anything. It’s a hamster wheel of nonsense, and everyone’s too busy running in circles to notice the cage door was never locked.

That we need 1,000 SSPs and infinite inventory
If you believe the adtech industry, there’s a magical wonderland of premium ad space waiting for your campaign. Spoiler: there isn’t.

Most SSPs are hawking the same inventory under different names, like a bad episode of Shark Tank where every pitch is just a rebranded version of the Snuggie. They love to talk about “exclusive access” and “premium placements,” but all they’re really doing is repackaging the same junk and hoping you won’t notice. It’s like finding 12 different listings for the same rental on Craigslist, each claiming to have a “private entrance” when, in reality, it’s the back door of a shared apartment that smells like regret and ramen.

And that “infinite inventory” they brag about? Don’t kid yourself. Sure, there are some decent placements in there, but the rest is a landfill of scammy websites, clickbait, bad apps, and content you wouldn’t want showing up in your browser history. Want your ad running alongside a headline like “Doctors Hate This One Weird Trick”? Congrats, you’re in luck.

Then there’s the ad spend. Every SSP takes their cut like it’s a mob operation, slicing your budget thinner than a Vegas buffet ham. By the time the publisher gets their share, it’s basically crumbs, and you’re left wondering why you’re paying top dollar for what amounts to digital table scraps.

Let’s stop pretending this bloated system is necessary. We don’t need 1,000 SSPs vying for a piece of the pie — especially when most of them are just middlemen adding layers of inefficiency. What we actually need is a handful of platforms that can deliver without turning your campaign into a block of Swiss cheese. Because right now, adtech isn’t just overcomplicated; it’s a bad comedy sketch where the punchline is always your depleted budget.

Transparency in ad placements 
Adtech swears your ads are running on premium sites. But what they don’t tell you is that "premium" apparently includes low-quality clickbait and dodgy content farms.

Placement reports in adtech are a masterclass in obfuscation. They’re so intentionally opaque, they make your phone bill look like light reading. Want to know where your ad actually ran? Good luck. It’s like solving a riddle wrapped in an enigma, hidden inside a maze, guarded by a dragon. You’ll spend hours chasing answers, only to end up with something vague like “impressions served,” which is just a fancy way of saying, “Trust us, we did stuff.”

And when you dig deeper? You’ll find out your ad was running on a site that hasn’t been active since Obama’s first term or, worse, some dark corner of the internet with fewer visitors than a library on a Friday night. Premium inventory? Sure, if your idea of premium is sharing screen time with conspiracy theories and pop-up ads for miracle diets.

They love to say “transparency is key,” but in adtech, it’s more like a game of hide-and-seek where the industry hides the details and you’re permanently stuck being “it.” No matter how hard you look, they’ve buried the information behind layers of jargon and dashboards that seem designed to make you give up and just nod along.

At this point, calling it transparency is like calling a blindfolded walk through quicksand a “guided tour.” The only thing you can be sure of is that you’ll end up sinking your budget without ever knowing where it actually went. Adtech transparency? It’s the punchline to a joke no one asked for, and we’re all paying for the privilege of laughing through tears.

The efficacy of targeted advertising They tell you targeted ads are surgical strikes, hitting exactly the right person at exactly the right time. In reality, it’s more like throwing spaghetti at a wall to see what sticks.

Algorithms in adtech strut around like they’re mind-readers, claiming to know your audience so intimately that they could predict what you’ll have for breakfast next Thursday. In reality? They’re about as accurate as a Magic 8-Ball in a thunderstorm. I’m still getting ads for baby products (no kids here) and retirement plans (I’m years away, thanks). If this is precision targeting, I’d hate to see what happens when they miss.

And here’s the real kicker: without quality data, all this targeting wizardry is meaningless. Let’s be honest — only a handful of companies actually have the kind of robust, reliable data that could make targeted advertising work. Think Experian, not “AdDuh DSP” with their two employees running a white-labeled platform from a basement somewhere. Oh, you’ve never Googled white-label DSPs? Go ahead and take a peek. Spoiler: it’s a rabbit hole of reskinned nonsense with slightly different logos.

Remember Adlib? Yeah, their big claim to fame was being a totally unique DSP — until they were exposed as nothing more than a MediaMath reseller. Their whole operation came crashing down when MediaMath folded. Turns out, when your entire business model is riding shotgun on someone else’s tech, the crash hits hard when the driver falls asleep at the wheel.

Targeting sounds great in theory, but when execution relies on shaky data and knockoff platforms, it’s like throwing darts at a phone book while blindfolded. Sure, you might hit something, but it’s probably not what you were aiming for — and it’s definitely not going to justify the bloated CPMs you just paid for the privilege of pretending otherwise.

Data privacy compliance “Trust us, we’re GDPR-compliant!” is adtech’s favorite lie. They wear compliance like a badge of honor, but behind the scenes, it’s chaos.

Consent banners in adtech are a masterclass in manipulation. They’re less about giving users control and more about checking a box labeled “bare minimum compliance.” These pop-ups are designed to frustrate you into submission — overloaded with jargon, endless options, and buttons placed so cleverly that your only real choice is to hit “accept” and pray for the best. Let’s be honest: nobody’s reading those fine-print novels disguised as privacy policies. Most of us are just trying to get to the actual content without throwing our laptop out the window.

And those so-called “privacy experts” in the industry? They love to parade around, selling themselves as the knights in shining armor of data protection. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: most of them aren’t solving anything for consumers. They’re peddling overpriced Band-Aid solutions to the ad industry — tools and frameworks that might look good in a pitch deck but fail miserably where it counts.

Ask them the one question that really matters: do consumers even know or trust what’s being done with their data? You’ll either get a long-winded answer designed to dodge the issue or complete radio silence. Why? Because the answer’s a resounding no. They’re not protecting your data; they’re selling half-baked solutions to keep the ad industry comfortable. It’s a shell game where everyone pretends to care about privacy while secretly hoping nobody looks too closely under the hood.

And the kicker? They won’t admit that their so-called solutions are barely functional because they’re not designed for consumers — they’re built to keep regulators off their backs and advertisers blissfully unaware. It’s a PR stunt masquerading as innovation, and the only thing they’re really protecting is their bottom line.

That AI will solve everything Adtech hypes AI as the solution to every problem — from campaign optimization to deciding what you should eat for lunch. But most of it is smoke and mirrors.

Adtech’s so-called “AI tools” are the industry’s favorite party trick. They’re flashy, they’re hyped, and they come with promises so big you’d think they were auditioning for a Marvel movie. But here’s the truth: most of the “AI” in adtech is about as artificial as a spray tan. It’s not solving problems, it’s barely functioning as automation, and the only “intelligence” involved is the owner’s shiny new self-driving Tesla.

Let’s not sugarcoat it: over 90% of the products that scream “AI-powered” wouldn’t know machine learning if it hit them in the face. These tools are glorified calculators with a layer of buzzword frosting. They spit out pre-programmed recommendations that are so generic they might as well come with a side of fortune cookies. “Optimize your campaign for success!” Oh, wow, thanks, AI. I never would’ve thought of that without your groundbreaking insight.

And don’t even get me started on their supposed ability to tackle “real challenges.” AI isn’t solving ad fraud. It isn’t magically turning bad creatives into gold. And it sure isn’t fixing the systemic problems in programmatic buying. What it is doing is giving platforms a shiny object to dangle in front of investors while distracting everyone from the fact that the platform itself doesn’t actually work.

This isn’t AI; it’s marketing spin with a fancy bow on top. They slap “AI-driven” on the label to justify inflated pricing and hope nobody notices the tech behind it is just a slightly more sophisticated Excel macro. If this is the future of advertising, we’re all in big trouble — because right now, the only thing “AI-powered” in adtech is the owner’s ability to convince investors to keep throwing money at it.

Ad fraud is under control Adtech assures us that fraud is being handled, but the numbers don’t lie. Billions of dollars are lost every year to fake impressions, bots, and shady actors.

Fraud detection in adtech is the equivalent of hiring a firefighter who shows up after your house has burned to the ground and offers to sweep up the ashes. These tools aren’t proactive; they’re glorified tattletales, showing up just in time to tell you something shady already happened — and by the way, your budget is long gone, whisked away to a fraudster’s offshore account while you’re left holding the smoldering wreckage of your ROI.

Fraud thrives in the dark, murky underbelly of the adtech ecosystem, a place so opaque it might as well be a black hole. Transparency? Please. It’s nonexistent. Accountability? Don’t make me laugh. Everyone’s too busy pointing fingers or pretending the problem doesn’t exist. Fraud is the uninvited guest at the adtech party, and instead of kicking it out, the industry seems content to let it hang around, eating all the snacks and raiding the bar.

And let’s talk about the so-called “solutions” they love to hype. Fraud detection tools are pitched as game-changers, but in practice, they’re about as effective as slapping a Band-Aid on the Titanic. They don’t prevent fraud; they just tell you after the fact that your ship is sinking. Thanks for the heads-up, Captain Obvious.

The worst part? They say they’re “fighting the problem,” but it’s more like they’re waging a half-hearted pillow fight against a swarm of piranhas. Fraud is raking in billions — yes, billions — every year, and the tools designed to stop it are so underpowered, they might as well be swatting at flies with a pool noodle.

Adtech loves to tout innovation, but when it comes to fraud, they’re content to stay in the Stone Age. Until the industry gets serious about transparency and accountability, fraudsters will keep sipping Mai Tais on some tropical island, funded entirely by your ad spend. Meanwhile, you’ll be stuck wondering why your “high-performing” campaign is delivering click-through rates from bots in Belarus. Spoiler alert: it’s because fraud detection is still playing catch-up, and we’re all paying the price.

That monopolies don’t exist The big players love to claim they’re just small cogs in a giant machine. Meanwhile, they’re swallowing the industry whole.

A handful of companies control the adtech ecosystem with all the grace of a playground bully hoarding the swing set. They dictate terms, crush competition, and then have the audacity to argue that their dominance somehow benefits advertisers. Benefits? Oh, sure — if by “benefits” you mean fewer choices, higher fees, and a one-way ticket to Vendor Lock-In City. It’s like being told that having one overpriced coffee shop in your neighborhood is “good for you” because now you don’t have to waste time choosing where to go.

Monopolies in adtech don’t just exist; they’re thriving, flexing their muscles while everyone else scrambles for scraps. Want to use their tools? Get ready to play by their rules, pay their premiums, and smile while doing it. They’ll tell you it’s all in the name of innovation, but really, it’s about control — and boy, do they love control. It’s less “collaboration” and more “welcome to our walled garden, where the only way out is to empty your wallet.”

The dominance of these few players has turned the adtech industry into a rigged casino. The house always wins, and advertisers are left holding the bill for inflated costs, subpar service, and solutions that are as one-size-fits-all as a souvenir T-shirt. They’ll spin it as “streamlining the ecosystem,” but let’s not kid ourselves — it’s not about efficiency; it’s about squeezing out competition until their name is the only one left on the marquee.

And the kicker? They’ll argue this is good for everyone. “Consolidation leads to better standards!” they’ll proclaim. But in reality, it’s just a convenient way to justify hiking prices while boxing out smaller players who might actually offer something better. Competition keeps industries healthy; monopolies? They just make sure everyone is paying for the privilege of staying sick.

We’re all paying the price — advertisers, publishers, and, let’s not forget, consumers, who ultimately foot the bill through more expensive products and a worse user experience. Adtech isn’t just flirting with monopolistic behavior; it’s taking it out for dinner, moving in, and stealing the Netflix password.

Commitment to brand safety “Your ads will only appear in brand-safe environments!” Sure they will, and I’m the Queen of England.

Ads in adtech have all the precision of a toddler with a crayon, routinely ending up next to content so offensive or inappropriate it makes you wonder if anyone is actually paying attention. But here’s the dirty secret: they’re not. Adtech leaders? They don’t care. They see themselves as so far removed from the actual media buying and creative process that brand safety is just another checkbox in a long list of things they can ignore while chasing revenue.

These aren’t ad professionals; they’re tech bros, techies, and technocrats — the kind of people who spend more time perfecting their latte art than worrying about your ad showing up next to conspiracy theories or hate speech. They don’t care about the media, the message, or even the outcome. They’re Musk wannabes, obsessed with disruption but utterly indifferent to the mess they leave behind. Protect your brand image? Please. That’s not their problem. Their job is to build shiny platforms, rake in the cash, and post self-congratulatory tweets about “the future of advertising.”

Brand safety? It’s less about keeping your image intact and more about making you feel safe while they pocket your budget and move on to the next shiny object. The filters they tout are about as reliable as a dollar store umbrella in a hurricane, letting ads slip through the cracks into the most questionable corners of the internet. And when things inevitably go sideways, their response is a shrug and a canned PR statement: “We’re working to improve our processes.” Translation? “We don’t care because we’ve already cashed the check.”

When revenue is on the line, they’ll always prioritize profit over protection. Your ad running next to offensive content is just collateral damage in their eyes. And honestly? They don’t think it’s their job to fix it. They’re too busy playing the role of “innovative disruptor” to care about the fallout. So while you’re left scrambling to clean up the PR nightmare, they’re out there pitching their next big idea to a room full of venture capitalists, pretending they’ve revolutionized advertising when all they’ve really done is turn it into a dumpster fire with a prettier interface.

Adtech is like that one kid in class who actually aced the science project, but now everyone thinks they’re a genius just because they slapped glitter on their volcano. Yes, there are some truly groundbreaking products that have revolutionized the industry — no argument there. But for every legitimate innovation, there are 50 knockoffs yelling, “Look at me! I’m the future!” while holding together their tech with duct tape and a prayer.

Everyone’s claiming they’ve got the next big thing, but let’s not kid ourselves: most of these products are about as “game-changing” as a slightly better PowerPoint template. And the inventors? Don’t even get me started. These aren’t visionaries trying to make great products; they’re fast-talking opportunists looking for their next payout. The goal isn’t to build something that works — it’s to slap together something shiny enough to sell to a bigger fish or hit the stock market before anyone realizes it’s all smoke and mirrors.

Behind the glossy pitches and the “future of advertising” buzzwords is an industry that feels more like a tech bro gold rush than a legitimate business. Products don’t need to function; they just need to look good long enough to get acquired. Think of it as a never-ending Shark Tank episode, but instead of solving real problems, everyone’s pitching slightly different ways to automate mediocrity.

And the result? An adtech ecosystem that’s bloated, redundant, and filled with tools that barely work but sure do sound fancy. It’s all a big show — the wizard behind the curtain isn’t some genius innovator; it’s a guy in a hoodie cobbling together APIs, hoping to cash out before the curtain falls. This isn’t the Emerald City; it’s a circus with way too many clowns, and we’re all stuck watching the juggling act.

No One Wants to Tell You This, But Here’s the Truth About Fixing AdTech

The AdTech industry thrives on a foundation of over complication. The more confusing it seems, the more they can convince you to pay experts upwards of $2,000 an hour to solve problems they created in the first place.

t’s a masterclass in circular logic, designed to make you feel like you’re always one step behind. The truth? Fixing AdTech isn’t rocket science, and it doesn’t take a Ph.D. in data science to navigate.

You don’t need a high-priced consultant—you need common sense and a willingness to challenge the status quo.

Here’s the deal: I’ll happily get on a call with you, for free, and walk you through what you need to do. No strings, no jargon-filled pitch deck, no “let me show you the ROI of hiring me.” Just straight, actionable advice to help you cut through the noise and take control of your advertising strategy.

Why am I offering this? Because the solution to the circus that is AdTech is so straightforward that once you hear it, you’ll wonder why you didn’t act sooner. Let’s break it down.

Subscribe to our premium content at ADOTAT+ to read the rest.