[Writer’s note: As you read this I predict that you will do one or all of the following: nod your head in vigorous agreement, make an audible “mm-hmm” sound, and maybe even drop a “hell yes!”
And I’m willing to double-down that if you’re honest with yourself, you’ll also let out a sigh, add a somber nod, and maybe even let a sheepish “you’re right” slip out.]
Not a week goes by…
…that someone blows into the marketing office with the world-ending crisis that absolutely must be solved in the next 37 minutes.
Yawn.
Anybody who’s spent even a month in a marketing office is painfully aware of the hair-on-fire marketing emergencies that come through our door on a near-hourly basis.
Still common but less frequent, are those who come in to decree unto thee a solution to their problem so masterfully engineered and foolproof that one must simply do their bidding and all will be well.
I’ve talked before about how people come to us with preconceived solutions to their marketing problems and how most of the time they’re wrong. And while it is true that we’re the resident experts in all things marketing (it’s literally our job), it’s also true that we are equally capable of falling asleep at the wheel or failing to recognize outside perspectives or acknowledge our own mistakes.
Back when I was a lesser-experienced, less humble marketing guy (though definitely experienced enough to know better), I fell prey to said shortcomings.
You’re not the boss of me
I wasn’t always receptive to others’ sense of urgency nor did I share their vision of what “good marketing” looked like.
But, as the saying goes: ignore a motivated middle manager at your own peril.
[Ok, I don’t know who says that but work with me here.]
About a year prior, a talented, motivated mid-level manager eager to learn, to do, to make their mark joined our ranks. Not surprising, the VP who onboarded this person was equally focused on action and results and rarely took no for an answer – especially from middle managers outside their division (like me).
So when the two announced their intent to develop a suite of marketing materials not part of our current portfolio, I didn’t share their zeal.
“That idea is so yesterday,” I thought. “It’s the wrong solution to their marketing problem.”
I neither made it a priority nor did I offer a better alternative.
I had bigger fish to fry. My resources were stretched thin and my backlog of projects was already a mile long. I had near-zero interest in making time to take on this project. It would have to wait. Like, a long while.
The train leaves the station
When the gulf between my lack of action and their sense of urgency grew too wide, my ambitious colleague took initiative to develop pages and pages of marketing content and sent it to me in an effort to get it back on track.
The serve was hurtling across the court, over the net, and headed straight to my face.
I opened the attachment to review the project’s promotional prose.
It wasn’t good. No brand voice. Features-heavy. Institutional tone. Inside ball. No heart.
It was written by an academic. Literally.
At that point I realized no amount of stalling or countering would matter. The train had left the station and there was no stopping it.
I dove in and reworked the entire program, slashing and burning nearly every word in the submission, taming the copy into something that had half a chance at succeeding.
What started as a reluctant one-off turned into a solid library of promo content I could repurpose elsewhere. It really was a worthwhile project after all.
Cue the bruised ego
I returned the serve with my full-on remake of the original work back across the court. And it was received… well… like a ball to the face. Big hurt feelings and big frustration. Why did it take this much effort on their part to move me to act? Was it really that bad???
After a few honest conversations and a little self-reflection, the project was completed, a new promo asset was available, and a working relationship was born.
What did I learn after the court line chalk dust settled?
Fill the space. Because if you don’t, someone else will.
Here’s what that looks like:
1. If You Don’t Like the Solution, Show Up With Your Own
I didn’t like the course of action and I didn’t like being told what to do. So I didn’t play along. I was too busy acting like the expert instead of being the expert. They were under pressure and acted when I wouldn’t.
That’s not insubordination. That’s initiative.
TL;DR: It’s easy to get complacent. When somebody calls you on it, don’t get salty. Get sharper.
2. Channel the Energy, Don’t Try to Block It
My pocket veto gave them the green light to tackle the problem without me. I should’ve played marketing jiu-jitsu: redirect the momentum toward a stronger final product with them, not around them.
TL;DR: If they care, you’ve already won half the battle. Use it. Shape it. Don’t snuff it out.
3. Focus on the Work, Not the Ego
I didn’t rewrite the copy to flex. I did it because it needed fixing. They worked hard but they just weren’t trained to do this kind of work. It’s like asking me to teach organic chemistry. Better have the safety goggles handy.
Skipping the shared process of crafting the content made it feel personal. That was my miss.
TL;DR: Make the work the boss. Not your title. Not your pride.
4. Everyone Was Hired to Be the Expert in Something
They know programs. I know audiences. They had a charge from the VP. I had a responsibility to bring strategy. The better play wasn’t “who’s right” — it was “how do we win together?”
TL;DR: Mutual expertise is a partnership, not a power struggle.
5. Play the Long Game
We butted heads. Then we found alignment. Now they bring a budget, I bring bandwidth. It’s not always easy, but it’s effective.
TL;DR: You’re not in a fight. You’re in a strategy match. Work the long game. Build allies. Keep talking.
Leadership is messy. Deal with it.
We marketers have worked hard to get a seat at the leadership table. Now that we’re here, we have to lead all the time — not just when we feel like it.
What looked like a waste of effort on my part from someone overstepping their lane was really a massive marketing hole I choose to not see. They were doing their best to fill it. And I could only see it once I decided to pay attention.
Then, once I did, we joined forces and made a difference, each of us coming out ahead.
We’ve gone on to collaborate on several projects with a much better understanding of each other’s strengths, limits, and working styles.
They bring the marketing challenges and the resources to help address them. I bring the skills and bandwidth to match.
It’s a partnership.
You know, the kind leaders strike up.
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Jeff Ebbing, Higher Ed Marketing Guy 