I noticed something rather telling when looking at the ProCopywriters directory recently: out of 743 copywriters, 328 claim to be “content strategists.” That’s nearly half. I wonder how many have actually done the work that genuine strategy entails.

The dilution of “strategic” work

Words matter in our profession. Yet we’ve allowed terms like “strategic” to become so diluted they’re practically meaningless. We’ve confused tactical implementation (writing emails that convert better) with actual strategic thinking (questioning whether those emails should exist at all).

I’ve spent decades working at the intersection of complex systems and human vulnerability, transforming government services, healthcare information and crisis support. This experience has shown me what strategic content work actually requires. It’s rarely what most self-described “strategists” are doing.

What strategic thinking actually looks like

When I joined Universal Credit as the first content designer responsible for all online content, I wasn’t brought in to “optimise messaging” or “increase conversion rates.” I was there to fundamentally challenge how the system communicated with vulnerable people during moments of financial crisis.

Strategic work meant spending days locked in rooms with policy experts, challenging every question on the form: “Do we really need to ask this? What happens if we don’t?” This wasn’t about better wording. It was about interrogating the fundamental relationship between the system and the human beings trying to use it.

The result eliminated 70% of housing benefit questions. That’s not tactically improving content that already exists. That’s strategically redesigning what content should exist in the first place.

The uncomfortable questions true strategists ask

Strategic content work means asking uncomfortable questions that challenge fundamental assumptions:

“Does this system actually serve the humans using it, or does it primarily serve the organisation that built it?”

“Are we asking for this information because we genuinely need it, or because we’ve always asked for it?”

“Are we placing cognitive burdens on people at moments when they’re least equipped to handle them?”

When communities needed flood defence funding, the system presented them with a 350-column spreadsheet. Everyone got it wrong. The strategic question wasn’t “How do we help people complete this spreadsheet?” It was “Why are we using a spreadsheet at all for a process this complex?”

That led to transforming the entire approach. Not just changing words, but reconceiving how the entire service functioned.

Strategy means speaking uncomfortable truths

True strategic work often means being the uncomfortable voice in the room. During a year working on rural payments, I consistently highlighted how the service was failing its users, elderly farmers with limited digital skills suddenly required to use complex software within tiny margins of error.

The project ultimately cost hundreds of millions and led to a public inquiry. Strategic thinking means maintaining the courage to say “this isn’t working” even when everyone else is invested in pretending that it is.

When you stand in a user research lab watching an 80-year-old farmer weep with frustration because he can’t complete a form he needs to keep his farm running, you understand what strategic thinking actually requires. It’s not writing better microcopy. It’s questioning whether the entire approach serves the humans who need to use it.

The strategic hierarchy of impact

Most self-proclaimed strategists work at the tactical level of implementation, making existing content perform incrementally better. True strategic work operates at much higher levels:

• System level: Questioning how entire services function and what information they require
• Journey level: Redesigning the entire path someone takes through a service, not just individual touchpoints
• Principles level: Establishing the fundamental beliefs that guide all content decisions
• Human need level: Ensuring systems work for people when they’re at their most vulnerable

When someone reports having their drink spiked at 3am or searches for cancer treatment information during the most frightening time of their life, strategic thinking means understanding the profound human context behind every word.

Are you really doing strategic work?

If you’ve labelled yourself a strategist, I invite you to honestly consider:

Are you changing how things are communicated, or are you changing what’s being communicated in the first place?

Are you making incremental improvements to existing content, or are you questioning whether different content should exist entirely?

Are you accepting the systems and processes as given, or are you challenging fundamental assumptions about how those systems should work?

Are you measuring success by engagement metrics, or by whether vulnerable humans can successfully use essential services when they desperately need them?

The path to becoming truly strategic

Genuine strategic thinking is uncomfortable. It means questioning assumptions, challenging power structures and sometimes being the only voice willing to say that something fundamentally isn’t working.

It requires deep immersion in the human context. You cannot strategically redesign a service for domestic abuse survivors if you haven’t spent time understanding their experiences, fears and needs at the deepest level.

It demands a willingness to speak truth to power, even when that truth isn’t welcome. When I advocated for elderly farmers struggling with the Rural Payments system, I wasn’t making friends. I was doing my job.

Most importantly, it requires recognising that humans using services are often at their most vulnerable, with diminished cognitive resources. True strategic thinking acknowledges this reality and designs systems that accommodate it, rather than compounding it.

The future of strategic content work

As AI increasingly handles tactical implementation, the truly strategic thinkers will become even more valuable. Anyone can prompt ChatGPT to generate a landing page. Almost no one can reconceive how an entire government service functions at a fundamental level.

The copywriters and content designers who will thrive aren’t those who claim to be strategic, but those who demonstrate strategic thinking by fundamentally transforming how systems work for humans.

If you’re calling yourself a strategist, I challenge you to reflect on whether you’re making tactical improvements to existing systems or strategically reimagining what those systems should be in the first place.

In a world where anyone can generate words, the ability to question which words should exist at all becomes invaluable.