We can probably agree that all marketing is basically pretense. Or bullshit.
So teachers need to earn a living, schools need to make money, magazines need to make money, everyone along the chain need to make money and so they market stuff. or bullshit.
Somewhere in this horde is the lonely tortured artist in most cases a couple of colors short of a pallet, struggling to create something that is dying to get out of him/her. Some of it is good, maybe and some of it stinks. He has periods. Flashes if brilliance. Gets derivative. Copies his contemporaries. Whatever. One day he's in fashion, the next he's toast. He dies penniless and his stuff sells for millions.
But he can always count on someone or a bunch of someones wandering along beside him keeping score.