Every year, the Super Bowl gives advertising something it rarely gets anymore: permission to matter.

For one night, ads aren’t the thing people rush to skip. They’re part of the event. People watch them together, react in real time, argue about them in group chats, and remember them long after the game ends (My friend and I still quote the “whassup” Budweiser commercial from 1999/2000 when we call each other). That alone makes them worth paying attention to.

Which is why the commercials around Super Bowl LX are interesting, not because they represent the best work of the year, but because they reveal something more telling. They’re a snapshot of the culture brands believe we’re living in right now.

Comfort, caution, and familiar humor

And in 2026, that culture feels cautious. Self-aware. A little tired.

A lot of this year’s ads lean hard into comfort. Familiar humor. Low stakes. Nothing that risks turning into a Monday-morning apology tour.

The Pringles spot is a clean example. It’s absurd and harmless. A fantasy man built out of chips. Some chaos, a few laughs, and then a reset. No tension. No agenda. Just relief.

That instinct makes sense. We’re coming off years of volatility, economic anxiety, political tension, and cultural fatigue. During one of the biggest communal moment in sports, people don’t want to be challenged. They want to escape. Brands are betting that right now, relief beats disruption.

The problem isn’t that comfort is wrong. It’s that when everyone makes the same bet, the work starts to blur together. Comfort builds trust, but if comfort is the whole idea, the work disappears as fast as it arrives.

That same caution shows up in the humor.

The jokes are still there, but they’ve put on a seatbelt. They want to be shared, not screen-grabbed for the wrong reasons. Comedy has shifted from provocation to reassurance.

The Anthropic / Claude ads capture this perfectly. They lightly roast the future of AI advertising without naming names, despite clearly winking at OpenAI and the broader anxiety around AI monetization. They’re smart. They’re funny. They’re very well done. And they’re also very measured.

Humor right now isn’t about pushing boundaries. It’s about signaling, “We get it too.” That works, but only if the joke actually reveals a truth. Otherwise, it’s just politeness with a punchline.

When celebrity outpaces the idea

Then there’s celebrity, which might be the most revealing trend of all.

Celebrities are everywhere this year. Some are additive. Some are doing the work the idea probably should’ve done itself.

The Instacart spot featuring Benson Boone and Ben Stiller is a perfect example. It’s charming. It’s funny. It’s well crafted. And if you ask a lot of people what the ad was actually for, a decent percentage will pause and say, “Wait… what brand was that again?”

That’s not a knock on the execution. It’s a signal.

Celebrity still buys attention. But attention without clarity is a short-term win. If the talent is more memorable than the brand, the idea isn’t finished yet.

What’s interesting, though, is what hasn’t disappeared.

When celebrity mirrors lived experience

You’ll notice fewer explicit value statements this year. Fewer brands standing on a soapbox to announce what they stand for. Purpose didn’t go away, companies just stopped flaunting it. 

Instead, it shows up through lived experience. Through human context rather than mission-statement copy.

The Ro spot featuring Serena Williams is a strong example. It’s not preachy. It’s not performative. It’s a grounded conversation about her health, her choice, and her real decision-making, delivered through personal experience rather than brand posture or virtue signaling. 

That matters. It’s purpose without the press release.

Values land harder when they’re embedded in reality, not declared from a podium. Subtlety works when it’s backed by credibility and clarity.

AI moves from the foreground of our lives into the background

All of this leads to the most telling shift of the night: AI.

This year, AI wasn’t the gimmick. Or the fever-dream films with nonsensical visuals of a meme-ified culture. It was the subtext.

Google’s Super Bowl spot is a quiet tell. There’s no big “look what AI can do” moment. No flexing. No future-shock visuals. Instead, AI is treated like infrastructure: present, helpful, and mostly invisible.

The ad isn’t really about AI at all. It’s about everyday problem-solving. Small moments. Utility. The technology fades into the background, which is exactly the point.

That’s a massive shift from where AI advertising was even a year ago.

In 2026, the confidence move isn’t showing intelligence. It’s showing restraint. Google isn’t trying to convince anyone that AI is powerful. Everyone already knows that. What it’s doing instead is reassuring audiences that AI can exist without being intrusive, overwhelming, or constantly demanding attention.

AI has crossed the threshold from novelty to expectation. When it’s done right, it shouldn’t feel like innovation. It should feel like gravity. Always there. Doing its job. Not asking for applause.

And that may be the clearest cultural signal of all.

So, is this a good reflection of culture or a bad one?

Honestly, it’s both.

Advertising that plays it safe vs playing for meaning

These ads reflect a culture that’s cautious, emotionally aware, and craving connection, but wary of risk. That’s real. That’s human. But advertising shouldn’t just mirror culture. Great ads help shape it. 

Right now, a lot of brands are playing not to lose. The opportunity in 2026 is to play to mean something.

Not louder.

Not edgier for the sake of it.

Just clearer. Braver. More intentional.

That’s the work people remember.

And that’s the work culture actually needs.