The word “brand” has come up in my life—again.
“You need to think about branding yourself,” a well-meaning acquaintance said. “All writers must develop their personal brands.” I’ve heard similar advice hundreds of times.
I’ve never been comfortable with the notion of personal branding, and this recent conversation didn’t help. When I mumbled that I didn’t like thinking of myself as a brand, my acquaintance was adamant. “You have to brand yourself,” she replied. “It’s the only way to put yourself out there.”
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my training as an anthropological linguist, it’s this: The moment you tell yourself there is only one way to think about something, that’s the only way you’ll think about it. Limiting yourself to a specific phrase, notion, or model eliminates a universe of possibilities. So, rather than convincing me to focus on my brand, these words encouraged me to find other ways to think.
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There are several things I don’t like about branding.
For one, it’s more about image than reality. BusinessDictionary.com defines it as “The process involved in creating a unique name and image for a product in the consumers’ mind, mainly through advertising campaigns with a consistent theme.” AudienceBloom CEO Jason Demers writes, “It’s the culmination of your company’s identity, packaged and presented in a way that’s pleasing, familiar, and attractive…” In other words, it’s about what a thing appears to be, rather than what it is.
Second, branding aims at getting people to think a certain way. Branding came about when “Marketers realized that they could create a specific perception in customers’ minds,” writes Jerry McLaughlin on Forbes.com. I don’t like the idea of meddling in other people’s minds or molding the way they think. I’d rather just be who I am and do what I do.
The notion of branding comes straight out of corporations. It’s advertising terminology run amok.
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Instead of asking how to brand myself, I ask three questions to help me understand what I am doing and how I want it to be seen.
These questions don’t come from the corporate world. They arise from my experience as a writer, teacher, and coach. They are: What am I giving? To what am I bearing witness? For what am I holding space?
What am I giving?
Writers write because we have something to offer the world. One of my core questions is: What is my offering? Why is it important? Am I truly providing what I think I’m providing? The answers to these questions are at the heart of how I think about my work. They aren’t about creating perceptions—they are about offering the world something.
To what am I bearing witness?
In Writing as a Sacred Path, I explore writing as keeping history and safeguarding human knowledge. F. Scott Fitzgerald called writers “part of the consciousness of our race.” We bear witness to the experience of Being, to what it means to be alive on the Earth.
A crucial question for me is whether I am fulfilling that sacred duty. Am I truly bearing witness? If so, to what? How can I be a better witness for the beings with whom I share the planet?
For what am I holding space?
The notion of holding space has blossomed in work on care giving in recent years. It is important in writing as well.
As teacher and author Heather Plett puts it, holding space means being “willing to walk alongside another person in whatever journey they’re on without judging them, making them feel inadequate, trying to fix them, or trying to impact the outcome.” When we hold space, we allow situations to unfold, remain fully present in the moment, and allow others to be who they are.
Asking myself whether I’m holding space means noticing the judgments, assumptions, and expectations that limit myself and others. It means making sure I’m truly open and accepting. Holding space enables me to embrace the totality of what is happening in the world, which is essential in both my life and my writing.
Marketing experts may not approve, but I find that my “Three Questions” technique offers me a wider, deeper, and more complete picture of my roll in the world than the notion of branding. When I answer my three questions with thought and candor, I no longer have to worry about my “personal brand,” because who I am and the work I do come through in my every action and word.
What do you think about branding? Are there questions you can ask yourself that are more powerful than creating a brand?
Jill, this is wonderful and resonates with me. I have read so much about branding as being important for writers. Your ideas are certainly refreshing and rings true.
Thanks, Rosanna. As I mentioned in my response to another commenter, I got fed up with hearing it–and feel there is a better way!
Jill,
Thank you for this. I, too, resist the whole of idea of branding. Your three questions are thought provoking and excellent guideposts for any writer (or person) to use to stay on track in the creation of meaningful life expression, no matter what their field of endeavor.
Thanks, Nancy. The whole branding thing just doesn’t work for me. I finally decided to write about it when someone gave a talk to the students at my college about how they could brand themselves. I just thought, “What terrible advice!”
Another great post. Boy, I have my homework cut out for me! Thanks, Jill.
Thanks, Dorothy!
You have made some excellent points, Jill, not the least of them being your observation as an anthropological linguist: “The moment you tell yourself there is only one way to think about something, that’s the only way you’ll think about it.” In my studies of ethnomusicology, where we were exposed to the music of diverse cultures, from all over the world, one of the first things that had to be cast aside was the “Western ear” we each brought to the class. One simply cannot listen to Korean Classical music, or Chinese Opera, within the same paradigm as one listens to the chamber music of Beethoven or the operas of Mozart; yet, who is to say that one is culturally “superior” than the other?
Cultural biases, unfortunately, are precisely what do occur, and they have deleteriously affected many of those cultures, usually after they became exposed to “Western” culture. Branding, similarly, dilutes our culture by presenting a single point of view, making everything look two-dimensional rather than allowing us to see every aspect of the individual. If someone presents their brand in three pithy words, such as “Just do it”, accompanied by a “swoosh” logo, what does this actually communicate to someone who has never seen a pair of footwear with the logo attached? As someone who goes out of their way to purchase clothing (and other items) without logos, it is merely a sign that says, “don’t buy me” in bright letters … and it works wonders.
No, you are correct: Branding is a scourge on humanity and must be avoided. If you want to get to know an artist, read their works, listen to their compositions, look at their paintings or whatever it is they create. THAT is how we are branded: artists are constantly evolving, changing with every work we complete; how is that to be branded?
Peter … the Ever-Evolving Composer, Writer, and Poet (unless I’m advocating for Human Rights, or something else …). Nope – more than three words. Oh well … back to the drawing board.
Thank you so much for your thoughtful, interesting comments, Peter. I can related very clearly to what you say about music. When I was first exposed to Indian music years ago, I couldn’t stand listening to it. I kept thinking: It’s not even music! My ear and brain could only here Western music as music. Now, after years of living in India, I love Indian music and savor it.
You have summed up the issue of branding perfectly: “Branding…dilutes our culture by presenting a single point of view, making everything look two-dimensional rather than allowing us to see every aspect of the individual.” So true!