Why "Give to Gain" needs to stop being a women's virtue and start being a business model
Communications is an industry built on authority. We move ideas, shape narratives, and broker access for a living -- and yet, as a profession, we still hoard influence like it's finite.
It isn't.
The most powerful currency in communications isn't reach, it isn't a Forbes byline, and it isn't a Rolodex of journalists who take your call. It's advocacy. It's the willingness to open a door for someone who doesn't yet have the key - and the recognition that doing so doesn't diminish your standing. It compounds it.
We know this, intellectually. We tell our clients that generosity builds brand equity. We counsel executives that visibility earned through community creates more durable trust than visibility bought through placement. And then many of us walk back to our desks and sit on our contacts, guard our methodologies, and decline to sponsor the colleague who could have used the introduction.
There's a particular irony in this for an industry that trades on the idea that a rising tide lifts all boats. In practice, a lot of boats are being kept in dry dock.
The leaders who do it differently - who share credit, recommend peers for opportunities they can't take, pull emerging talent into rooms they haven't been invited to yet - don't lose influence in the process. They become the people others want to be associated with. Their networks deepen. Their reputation as connectors becomes its own form of authority. Sponsorship, it turns out, is excellent PR.
This is not a new observation. But there's a gendered dimension to it that deserves more direct examination. "Give to Gain" is a value that gets selectively celebrated - most often when it's embodied by women. We laud the female executive who mentors generously, applaud the communications director who champions her team publicly, and hold them up as examples of leadership done right. What we talk about less is how rarely the same expectation falls on their male counterparts, or how often the women practicing radical generosity are doing so in organizations that reward the behavior with appreciation rather than advancement.
Generosity cannot be a personality trait that women are expected to model while others treat access as a competitive moat. It has to be structural. It has to be a business model.
For communications agencies and in-house teams alike, that means building advocacy into how you operate - not as a feel-good initiative, but as a deliberate growth strategy. Refer clients you can't serve to firms who can. Recommend the journalist-turned-strategist for the board seat. Champion the mid-level account lead's byline, even when your name would generate more clicks. Create the conditions under which the people around you become more visible, and watch what happens to your own reputation in the process.
If we truly believe in the power of narrative - and we do, it's the entire premise of what we do - then we understand that the stories people tell about you are shaped by how you treat the people who can't yet do anything for you.
The firms and leaders who will define the next decade of communications aren't the ones who guarded the most access. They're the ones who gave it away most strategically, built networks of genuine reciprocity, and recognized that in a world of infinite content and fractured attention, trust is the only currency that doesn't inflate.
Give to gain. Not because it's generous. Because it works.