The Thing About Common Narratives

Communications and marketing professionals are working to measure, manage, and message their way through a shifting federally-influenced landscape with not just a shift in platforms or tactics — but a shift in power.

And if you listen closely, communities have been telling us that for a long time.

My first proof point happened in the concrete jungle of my childhood home. Growing up in Springfield, Massachusetts, watching how quickly a place can be reduced to a headline, how easily people can be defined by what's missing instead of what's possible. I remember standing in a corner store with my guitar, using food stamps, and hearing someone draw a line between me and "those other kids." It wasn't just a comment. It was a narrative — one that shaped how he saw my community, and maybe how he thought my story would end.

That's the thing about narratives. They don't just describe reality. They create it.

So when we talk about communications strategy today, especially in this moment of declining trust and constant noise, we have to be honest about what's actually happening. People aren't tuning out because they don't care. They're tuning out because they don't see themselves in what we're putting out.

And they're finding each other instead. That's the shift.

For a long time, this field has been built on the idea that we control the message. That if we refine it enough, target it well enough, distribute it widely enough, it will land. But control isn't credibility. And credibility today doesn't come from polish — it comes from proximity.

People trust what feels real. They trust what feels close. They trust who they know.

And the data backs that up. Campaigns grounded in advocacy with real stories and real voices can increase audience recall by as much as 40 percent (Advocacy Incubator, 2024). Employee-driven content generates up to eight times more engagement than brand posts (Cutting Edge PR). And trust-based campaigns deliver three times the return on investment compared to traditional, transactional marketing.

That's not a creative preference. That's a performance advantage.

Which means the job has changed. We are no longer just crafting messages. We are shaping spaces where people feel seen, heard, and invited in. And if we're doing it right, we're not the only ones speaking.

That's where I see the strongest campaigns right now. They don't start with "What do we want to say?" They start with "What are people already experiencing, and how do we honor that truth?"

That requires something a lot of strategies skip: listening that actually changes the outcome.

Listening to the community and who they connect to their clients shows up in the final product — in whose voices are elevated, in what stories are told, in how solutions are framed.

Because if your audience only exists at the end of your process, they're not your audience. They're your afterthought. That might look like a community voice leading your narrative instead of a spokesperson. It might mean your employees are your most credible messengers, not your brand account. It might mean your campaign includes a clear action — something people can do, not just something they can see.

Because attention is fleeting. But participation sticks.

And participation performs. Advocacy-driven PR efforts routinely generate two to three times higher engagement and reputation lift than paid campaigns. That's because they don't just reach people — they resonate with them.

We've all seen the data. Messages carried by real people travel farther. Advocacy-driven campaigns outperform traditional ones. But behind every stat is something simpler: people believe people.

So the question becomes: are you building something people can believe in?

That also means rethinking how we define success. Reach matters. Impressions matter. But they don't tell you if anyone actually felt something. They don't tell you if someone saw themselves in your story, or if they trusted you enough to act.

It's messier. It's less controlled. It takes more time. But it's also more honest. And in this environment, honesty is the strategy.

We're moving into what I think of as a participatory era of communications. AI will accelerate content, no question. It will make it easier to produce, faster to distribute. But it won't solve the trust problem. If anything, it will make the human side of this work more important.

Because when everything can be generated, authenticity becomes the differentiator.

And authenticity doesn't come from a tool. It comes from relationships. From community. From a willingness to share the microphone.

At the end of the day, this work is about more than brand perception or campaign performance. It's about whose stories are told — and how. We don't just shape narratives. We decide who gets to be part of them.

And if we're serious about building trust again, the path forward isn't louder messaging. It's wider inclusion.

It's making sure the next time someone walks into that corner store — or opens their phone, or turns on the news — they don't just see a version of their story. They recognize it as their own.