Conclusion

So much of this book has been about the subtle art of letting go. And there’s a good reason for that.

We agreed at the start of this conversation that we, as content people, need to get over ourselves and our need to own all the words. It’s just not helping, that attitude. It doesn’t get us a seat at the table. It doesn’t demonstrate our value. It doesn’t really achieve much of anything except an inner sense of smugness and victimhood.

So let’s just stop. Let’s replace that attitude with one that conveys our enthusiasm, empowers our colleagues, and lightens our loads.

The point isn’t to teach and train and automate our way out of a job. The point is to encourage absolutely everybody in our organizations to own some part of the job of content design, so they all:

  1. have a clearer idea of what the full stack of content design truly entails and can do for their goals,
  2. know where and how they can contribute to great content themselves, and
  3. recognize when it’s time to call in a specialist—a content pro like you and the folks on your (soon-to-be-growing) team.

Steps one and two will help you clear the decks so you can pick and choose where you spend your quality time. Step three will make it clear if and when you need to add strength to your team.

None of this has a dang thing to do with where we all stand on the use of an Oxford comma, I’m afraid. But it does have to do with giving you your life and sanity back. It will also give you the chance to see light bulbs come on in the minds of your colleagues, illuminating your shared problem spaces with crisp, clear, compelling content that everyone has had a hand in creating.

Once you’ve achieved all that wonderfulness, it’s time to kick back and enjoy the fruits of success. Wait, no, that’s not right either. Because this is when the real work truly begins.

Nobody is better situated to keep a beady eye on what it is we’re persuading others to believe—about ourselves, our products, and the way the world works—than content folks are. Content can convince people the world is a terrifying place that’s relentlessly spiraling downward. Or it can say there’s some good in this world, Frodo, and it’s worth fighting for.

Everything you do—as a professional, as a team leader, as an encourager, as an aspiring strategic seat holder—tells the world who you are and what you stand for. Seeking out and supporting the hidden writer in everyone sends a message that we’re all in this together. That together we win.

It’s a pretty big deal to finally get that seat at the table you’ve been clamoring for. It’s an even bigger deal when you manage to build your own table and invite everyone to join you in creating something new. Now that you have a growing and carefully cultivated content practice in your organization, what are you going to do with it?