Insights

One of the messaging tenets I preach to clients is this: if you feel like you're on defense, stop; be on offense.

Why? Because when you're on defense, you tend to think small and tactical. You neglect the bigger story.

And I want to counsel all of my communications colleagues right now to do the same: Stop being defensive about AI. Focus instead on the bigger story: robotics.

Every LinkedIn post about how communicators are using AI strikes me as so defensive. Most posts are so small-ball tactical: "here's how my team is using AI to x, y, z."

The story of AI is much bigger than drafting copy, editing, workflow. AI alone is unlikely to dramatically improve our daily lives. But robotics will. Robotics is where AI meets the physical world.

Autonomous vehicles are the obvious example. But 1X is testing robots that fold laundry and make coffee. Apptronik just raised $350M to build robots that pack boxes so humans don't have to. These machines are taking on the unskilled, repetitive work that nobody really wants to do.

Let's go on offense. Let's tell the story about how AI-plus-robotics will improve daily lives for a vast majority of humans. When we act as visionary storytellers, our jobs will be secure — changed, for sure, but secure.

Over the past two decades, I've contributed to my fair share of commencement speeches. I'm not working on one this year, so here is my best advice, free of charge:

1. IT'S NOT ABOUT YOU. You're not there to build your brand or sell your book. This day is about the graduates.

2. COME UP WITH THREE "BUMPER STICKER" MESSAGES. Think memorable bits that could fit on a car bumper sticker. With three, you increase the likelihood that every graduate walks away with one resonating.

3. TELL A STORY. Choose one of those bumper sticker messages and use it to tell an authentic story about how you came to that realization.

4. SPEAK SLOWLY, AND DELIBERATELY. Talking slowly will ensure everyone hears what you have to say. If you practiced it at home and it took 5 minutes, it will last just 2 minutes 30 on stage.

5. KEEP IT SHORT. A commencement speech of 5 minutes is fine. Something in the realm of 10 minutes feels right. No human can keep the attention of an audience like this for 20 minutes. None.

I've fielded numerous inquiries lately for open Comms roles for which the recruiter has been told to look for someone with significant industry experience (SaaS, FinTech, B2B, etc.).

How short-sighted!

Ask yourself this question: Are you hiring a Communications expert, or an industry expert?

If you're looking for an industry lifer, you've immediately limited yourself to a very tiny subset of Comms professionals.

Here's the deal: There are tools. There are tactics. There are audiences. An experienced and seasoned Comms professional can navigate those no matter the topic or the industry.

My recommendation: Hire a Comms expert and teach them your business. The alternative is to hire an expert in your business and hope that they understand and can excel at Comms. That's silly (and "silly" is a synonym for "stupid").

My first business card, as a consultant, contained a blank rectangle — a representation of the blank page. That's because my business model was to do the hard thing: to go from a blank page to an incredible first draft.

AI today can easily handle the task of going from blank page to a first draft. Nevertheless, I still write my own first drafts. Why? Because I enjoy that process. And I still believe there is value in an experienced human considering a blank canvas and determining what to put there.

While LLMs can create reasonable first drafts from looking at the body of work that has been produced up to this point, only a free-thinking, beginner's mind — a Zen mind — can create something forward-looking that is truly new, unique, and will stand the test of time.

When it comes to thought leadership, speechwriting, and executive communications, I believe that fresh and authentic perspectives are the only ones that will break through.

If it's a task to simply check off your list, sure, use an AI assistant. If it's art — and I believe speechwriting at its highest utility to be an art form — then a human must hold the pen.

No kidding — my mom texted me a couple days ago: "What is the definition of a ghost writer??"

MY MOM! If my own mom does not understand what I do, probably a lot of other people don't.

So... "Ghostwriter." A ghostwriter is a professional writer hired by people who may be capable of writing their own material but whose day jobs require that they spend their time doing other things. Think: CEOs, celebrities, politicians.

The ghostwriter puts words on the paper but never gets the credit (hence, the term "ghost").

I guarantee that you have read books by well-known people that were written by ghostwriters. You have listened to speeches that were largely crafted by a ghostwriter. You have read opinion columns credited to a person whose name you know, but which were written by a ghostwriter, whose name you don't.

To me, it makes a lot of sense. If I am writing for a person who is running a multi-national public company, I want them spending their time running that company, not agonizing over word choice for an internal email. I'll do that.

Anyway, Mom: a "ghostwriter" is a writer whose name you never know, but whose work and impact can be huge.