

It usually starts with good intentions.
Marketing needs to hit aggressive goals. Sales wants more enablement material. Product’s pushing a new feature that has to be announced yesterday. So leadership does what seems logical:
“Let’s hire more writers.”
Before you know it, there’s a team of talented content creators churning out blog posts, landing pages, newsletters, and ghostwritten thought leadership—all at once. There’s momentum, sure. But there’s also chaos. Because without someone steering the ship, your content engine starts to look more like a demolition derby.
You get duplicated work. Competing narratives. Inconsistent messaging. Deadlines slip. Writers burn out. Stakeholders lose trust. And despite all the effort, the results don’t add up. Organic traffic plateaus. Conversions don’t move. Sales still claims “nothing’s working.”
Here’s the truth no one likes to say out loud:
More content doesn’t automatically mean better results. Not if it’s disconnected, unprioritized, or misaligned with business goals.
What you need isn’t more word count—it’s oversight. Strategy. A point of view.
You need someone who can take all those incoming requests, connect the dots, and say, “Here’s what we’re focusing on, and why.” Someone who can manage the editorial process without killing creativity. Someone who keeps content accountable to outcomes.
What you need is a content strategist—or, at the very least, an editorial lead who can bring structure to the chaos.
Even if your content team looks busy—and let’s be honest, they are—you can usually feel when something’s off. The symptoms start small: a few overlapping topics here, a last-minute launch asset there. But over time, the cracks widen, and you’re left wondering why your high-output team isn’t driving meaningful results.
Here’s what it typically looks like when no one’s truly managing the operation:
You’ve got three blog posts explaining the same concept—each written by a different team, none aware of the others. Or worse, you’ve got competing narratives about what your product actually does. (Cool cool cool, let’s confuse the audience and Google.)
One week you're sounding like a snarky disruptor. The next, a buttoned-up enterprise consultant. Somewhere along the line, your brand voice went on a sabbatical—and no one noticed. Without a centralized editorial POV, every writer brings their own interpretation to the table. It’s like a content potluck where everyone brought dessert and forgot the main course.
Product wants a feature launch announcement. Sales wants a case study. Marketing wants to chase SEO unicorns. And because there’s no coordination, all of it gets worked on simultaneously—half-baked and rushed to publish. Instead of a cohesive content ecosystem, you’ve got three departments speaking in different dialects, to different audiences, on different timelines.
Somehow, things are still going live every week—but no one can explain why. Who was the audience for that whitepaper? What was the goal of that webinar? Did we measure performance on last quarter’s campaign? Anyone? Bueller?
When content is being created for the sake of output alone, it stops being a growth engine and starts being a very expensive exercise in “look busy.”
Let’s get something out of the way: a content strategist—or an editorial lead—is not just a project manager who knows how to use Asana. And they’re definitely not a glorified copyeditor cleaning up headlines and fixing em dashes.
This is a strategic role. It’s the person who looks at the big picture, cuts through the noise, and says, “Here’s what matters, here’s what doesn’t, and here’s how we’ll make it happen.”
So what do they actually do?
A strategist isn’t just a traffic controller—they’re the one setting the route. When product, sales, brand, and your CEO all want content now, this is the person who decides what gets done, in what order, and why. They evaluate impact, not just volume. (Spoiler: not everything needs a landing page.)
Whether it's driving qualified leads, supporting a product launch, or moving the needle on customer retention, your strategist connects every piece of content to a bigger objective. They make sure the work supports the right goals—not just the loudest ones.
This is the person who builds and maintains the editorial calendar—yes—but more importantly, they protect it. They ensure that publishing is consistent, coordinated, and paced in a way that doesn’t burn out your writers or bury your best work under a pile of rushed pieces.
This isn’t “set it and forget it” work. A good strategist is in the metrics. They’re asking:
They use data to refine the strategy—not just to fill in quarterly reporting decks.
Let’s dispel the myth: most writers aren’t tortured, free-spirited creatives waiting for the muse to strike. They’re strategic thinkers who care about craft and results—but they need a framework to do their best work.
When writers are supported with clarity, direction, and purpose, they don’t just write faster—they write better. You get stronger messaging, sharper insights, and content that actually performs. And more importantly, you get writers that don’t burn out or quietly quit while still on payroll.
Here’s what that support actually looks like:
When a writer understands the business goal—whether it’s generating leads, supporting a product launch, or reinforcing brand credibility—they can tailor the voice, structure, and CTA to hit that goal. They write with intention, not just word count.
A good brief is a gift. It tells your writer:
Without that, you're asking them to cook dinner with a bag of random groceries and no idea who’s coming to eat.
Writers are more invested when they can see how their work contributes to the company’s mission. It’s motivating to know that a blog post led to a deal, or that a case study helped close a tough prospect. Otherwise, content starts to feel like busywork with better formatting.
Now, flip it: Here’s what happens without that structure.
Writers don’t need a babysitter. They need a partner. Someone to set the direction, protect their time, and help them make meaningful work—not just more of it.
Every time someone brings up hiring a content strategist or editorial lead, the same objections tend to show up. They sound reasonable on the surface—but dig a little deeper, and you’ll see they’re less about logic and more about a lack of understanding around the value of the role.
Let’s break them down:
Okay—but how much are you spending right now on content that goes nowhere?
If you’re paying writers, designers, ad platforms, SEO tools, and CMS fees… you already have a content budget. What you might not have is ROI. A strategist helps you get more out of the spend you’re already making by focusing on high-impact work and killing the low-value fluff.
Hiring a strategist doesn’t cost you more.
It prevents you from wasting what you’re already spending.
That’s exactly why you need a strategist.
When resources are tight, you can’t afford to make the wrong bets. A strategist helps you prioritize, say “no” with confidence, and get scrappy without becoming chaotic. They bring focus to the team so your three-person content crew isn’t pretending to be a 20-person agency.
Small teams need sharper direction—not more to juggle.
Having a calendar is like having a treadmill—you still have to use it.
A calendar without strategy is just a schedule of deliverables. It doesn’t tell you if those deliverables are aligned with business goals, audience needs, or performance data. A strategist brings meaning to the calendar. They make sure what’s on it is intentional, not just “due next Thursday.”
Execution without strategy is just noise on a timeline.
AI is great—for support. But it’s not a strategic decision-maker.
AI can help you ideate, write faster, and automate repetitive tasks. But it doesn’t know your business goals, your brand nuances, or how to navigate stakeholder politics. And it can’t decide what not to create—which, let’s be honest, is half the job of a good strategist.
AI is a tool. Strategy is a skill. They’re not interchangeable.
The truth is: skipping out on strategy doesn’t save you time or money. It just delays the moment when you realize your content isn’t working—and now you have to fix it after you’ve already burned through your budget.
By now, you’re probably thinking, “Okay, fine, we need someone steering the ship. But how do we actually make that happen?”
Good news: You don’t need a headcount miracle or a six-month hiring cycle to start bringing strategic oversight into your content operation.
You just need to be intentional—and realistic.
This isn’t about finding someone who’s “good with words.” You’re looking for someone who can zoom out and see the bigger picture—and then zoom back in to make sure the execution aligns.
Look for someone who:
Bonus if they’ve worked in scrappy environments and know how to do a lot with a little. You want someone who’s strategic—but not afraid to get in the weeds.
You’ve got two paths here:
Either way, the key is to define the function before worrying about the title. Strategy isn’t about hierarchy—it’s about focus.
Hiring the right person is only step one. If you want this role to work, you have to set them up for success:
Not ready to hire? That’s fine. Start by assigning strategic responsibilities to someone already on the team.
Have them:
Once you see the impact, it’ll be a lot easier to make the case for formalizing the role.
If your content feels scattered, inconsistent, or disconnected from actual results, the answer isn’t “more.” It’s not another blog post. It’s not doubling down on LinkedIn. It’s definitely not another writer.
What you need is better-managed content—work that’s strategic, intentional, and aligned with what actually moves the business forward. That doesn’t happen by accident. It happens when someone owns the strategy. Someone who knows what to prioritize, what to pause, and what to ignore entirely.
When you have that person in place, content stops being a never-ending to-do list and starts functioning like the growth engine it’s supposed to be. Clear direction, less chaos, better outcomes.
So here’s your next step:
Audit your current process and ask the question no one wants to hear—“Who’s actually steering this ship?”
If the answer is “no one” or “kind of… everyone,” then it’s time to make a change.