We claim we create content to change minds, build trust, and grow demand. Then we reward the thing that’s easiest to count: how much we produced. Marketers don’t struggle to make content. We know how to make plenty.
The work should teach you something
You can count your way into feeling productive.
Thirty articles in a quarter. A campaign that checked every box. Another monthly report full of incremental upticks.
That’s evidence your content team is busy. It doesn’t prove the strategy worked.
One well-aimed piece can outperform an entire quarter’s worth. It can teach you who responds, what makes them stop, what they understand, and what they still need.
Doing that once proves something works. Doing it again, on purpose, is the strategy.
Then another random asset request comes in. Another shuffle, another deadline. Another item for the monthly report.
So we move on before the last piece has time to teach us anything.
A point of view has to come from somewhere
We’ve turned having a unique point of view on the market into something content teams are expected to produce on demand.
An idea worth developing doesn’t magically appear because there’s nothing scheduled for Tuesday.
It comes from context—a sales conversation, an internal document, a pattern you’ve seen often enough to stop mistaking for coincidence.
Then someone has to notice it, and follow the path.
That takes time and proximity. And sometimes it means questioning what everyone else seems to accept.
Good content shouldn’t die in the approval chain
Sometimes the people we’re trying to please aren’t the people we’re trying to reach.
A marketer worries a prospect will disagree. A manager worries an executive will push back.
So the sharp edges of good content get sanded down. The incisive observation becomes a vague throwaway. The uncomfortable truth softens until it disappears.
Every stakeholder approves the piece. Nobody remembers it.
What a strange way to build a brand.
Machines enter after the decision
If you’re wondering whether I use AI, the answer is yes.
I use AI to scale decisions I’ve already made. It’s not perfect, and it’s useful. Both are true.
The decision always comes first: what does this piece need to make the reader understand, believe, or do?
AI helps carry that decision through the work, making it more accessible and easier to scale.
What happens when people actually want to read?
I was writing for a customer service audience when I started treating topic selection as a hypothesis instead of throwing ideas at the wall.
The articles were designed to make an impression. The backlinks came later.
Six organic backlinks across three articles—and an ebook that became the lead source for a closed/won deal.
Years later, other brands were still publishing variations of one of the articles.
I saw a similar opportunity with a freelance client whose content focused entirely on product benefits.
So I pitched a piece around audience objections instead. It became their first Google Answer Box placement. Then competitors started copying it.
None of that came from publishing more. It came from finding something worth saying and giving someone a reason to care.
What if content were worth seeking out?
Remember when you could stumble onto a website and immediately recognize you’d found something special?
Each headline seemed tailored to your interests. A practical guide sat next to a spirited essay—and both were delightful to read.
One article led to another, and before leaving, you’d bookmark the site.
Maybe you’d come back a week later and read something else. You just wanted to see what else they’d made.
Content should feel like a special event, not a corporate push.
You can watch this unfold, one behavior at a time.
