Authenticity cannot be faked. No amount of cash or glitter can fool it over someone’s eyes, unless they happen to be terribly naive or clinically delusional. There’s a stench to a fraudulent pretence that is immediately evident when a relatively normal man encounters another who attempts to maneuver them into believing that a sincere texture is there when it simply isn’t. It is the same with an inauthentic environment, like the decoration and ornamentation of a building or locale. An entire city block can reek of it, as it is founded upon the same falseness that belies the gesticulation and mannerisms of an insincere man or a company’s branding and messaging. There is something hardwired to a man’s emotional core, beneath even the logical apparatus of his mind, that detects the presence and absence of authenticity. It may be as yet too subtle a function to be measured and tested by the scientific method, but it is a verifiable reality nonetheless. Although society is structured to allow this emotional talent to be smothered into numbness and even to borderline atrophy, ignorance to its loud whispers can never be completely silenced. It is a fundamental precondition that is inborn and inherent, the element of genuine inspiration, and the bedrock of human progress.