Beyond the Checklist: Why Communications Deserves a Strategic Seat at the Table

When communications is treated like a checklist, you get noise. When it’s grounded in strategy, you get results.

One of the things I’ve valued most in my in-house communications roles is that strategy was part of the job. I wasn’t just brought in to make things look good. I was expected to help shape how we advanced our mission, built trust, and connected with audiences in meaningful ways. Not every organization fully grasped the value of strategic communications. But most did and they saw the difference it made.

Now, as a consultant, I find myself in a different position. I’m often responding to RFPs where the vision of success has already been defined, often by people without communications expertise. That vision might include a set cadence of social media posts, a specific number of press releases, or a newsletter schedule that’s already been decided. Sometimes, there’s no clear audience strategy or engagement goal attached. Just a list of deliverables.

It’s a bit like being handed a recipe and told to bake a cake — even if there’s no sugar in the pantry, no guests at the party, and no oven. But hey, at least there’s a checklist.

I’m currently in conversations with one such organization. They’re doing vital work, but their proposal outlined specific content tasks by platform and frequency — even though their current posts aren’t gaining any traction. I think I might be the only one liking them. Their press releases? Crickets. No journalist pick-up.

To me, that’s not a reason to keep pressing “send.” It’s a sign to pause and ask: Why isn’t this working? What would actually move the needle?

This is where communications can be transformative: not as decoration or a content machine, but as a problem-solving tool. That’s why I offered this organization something extra: during quieter times in our engagement, I proposed devoting part of the retainer to support strategic thinking. Not because it was in the RFP, but because their mission matters. Box-checking might fulfill a contract, but it won’t get them the recognition, influence, or momentum they deserve.

And really — can you imagine this happening in any other field?

“Don’t worry about the audit, just file the taxes.”“Go ahead and post the job, but skip the hiring strategy.”“Let’s not involve IT — we’ll just guess the passwords.”

Yet in communications, it happens all the time. Experts are asked to execute tactics without being invited to weigh in on whether those tactics make sense in the first place.

Real impact requires more than output. It requires insight. Who are you trying to reach? What will move them to act? Where is your message getting lost, and how can we sharpen it to land?

As a consultant, I’m happy to provide content support and deliverables. But the greatest value I bring is helping organizations use communications to identify and overcome their biggest barriers — and to grow with purpose.

Because when strategy leads, communications stops being a checklist and starts being a catalyst.

Curious how strategic communications could help your organization gain traction, clarity, or visibility? Let’s talk.

Defining My Value: How Clarifying My UVP Helped Me Build a Purposeful Business

A little over 30 years ago, I stood at an early fork in the road.

I had two job interviews scheduled for the same day: one with Deloitte, and one with Human Rights Watch. At the time, I was a young idealist — let’s be honest, a bit of a hippie — but I wanted to present myself as someone who could “fit in.” So, I went out and bought a gold silk lamé suit to wear to both interviews.

At Deloitte, the response was swift: “You look like a creative type…” They were looking for someone more conventional — someone they could mold.

Later that day, I met with the head of Human Rights Watch’s Asia Division — who would become my boss. As she walked me to the elevator, she looked at me kindly and said, “If we hire you, you don’t ever need to wear a suit like that to the office again.” She saw past the outfit to who I really was.

The gold lamé suit in action. Taken at the Ministry of Health in China in 2003 for a project with the Global Health Council focused on reducing stigma around HIV/AIDS. Yes, that’s Miss Universe and Miss China, and yes, I’m still standing by my fashion choices... sort of!

Thankfully, they hired me.

I joined Human Rights Watch during an extraordinary and sobering time — in the midst of the Rwandan genocide and the ethnic cleansing in Bosnia. The urgency and gravity of that work shaped me profoundly. My lens eventually expanded beyond Asia, and so did my purpose. That foundation led me to become a journalist in China, to run a magazine about HIV, and ultimately to spend more than two decades leading communications for international relief and development organizations — working across sectors from global health and food security to press freedom, democracy, and emergency response.

Every step of the way, my work has been tied to purpose.

A New Fork in the Road

Over the years, I always imagined that the final chapter of my career would be as a consultant. I looked forward to working independently, and supporting organizations I believed in. I just never thought that chapter would start quite so soon.

The 2024 election changed that.

I immediately knew that the outcome would have ripple effects — not just nationally, but personally. While I was still happily employed, I could feel the ground shifting. I began taking quiet steps: registering an LLC, mapping out a website, and exploring what consulting might look like. I wasn’t sure I was ready — but I had a hunch I needed to be.

Soon after, the deep cuts came. The sector I’d spent my life in was being systematically dismantled. Friends and colleagues were losing jobs.

And eventually, so did I.

That moment forced me to ask: Should I pivot away from mission and try something safer? Should I repackage myself as a generalist and chase private-sector work?

I could have. Communications is a flexible skillset. But I knew I was too far in. I’d spent three decades shaping narratives for causes I believed in. Walking away wasn’t an option. What I needed was clarity — and that started with the same thing I now help my clients define: a unique value proposition.

What a UVP Really Is (And What It Definitely Isn’t)

For mission-driven organizations — and for people like me who support them — a UVP isn’t a tagline. It’s the foundation that anchors everything else. It answers:

• Why is your mission urgent right now?

• Why are you uniquely positioned to address it?

• How are you different from others doing similar work?

When your UVP is strong, it guides your strategy. It clarifies who you’re trying to reach, what story you need to tell, and how to tell it.

Now, let me be clear about what a UVP is not.

I have an unusual talent: I can write forward with my right hand and in mirror image with my left — at the same time. (Yes, really. Michelangelo used mirror writing as a way to keep his notes secret.)

That’s unique. It’s quirky. But it’s not a value proposition — because it doesn’t help anyone understand what I do, who I help, or why it matters.

A UVP isn’t about novelty. It’s about relevance and resonance. And it’s where any strong communications strategy begins.

Why I Launched Global Impact Narratives

Once I reframed “mission-driven” beyond U.S. funded humanitarian assistance — once I looked beyond the international lens I’d always relied on — I saw how vital domestic missions are, too. And I realized that I could contribute in new ways: supporting work to improve educational policy, helping organizations serve children born with life-threatening illnesses, and so much more.

The world hasn’t gotten any simpler. But the need for clarity, for truth, and for values-based storytelling has never been greater.

So I launched Global Impact Narratives — not as a fallback, but as a next chapter. A business rooted in the belief that strong, ethical communications can amplify purpose and drive real change.

Now, I help others uncover what makes them essential — and ensure the world hears it.

Because clarity changes everything. It did for me.

P.S. If you’re navigating your own inflection point — as a leader, a team, or an organization — I’d love to talk. Helping purpose-driven partners tell the right story, to the right people, in the right way is exactly what I do at Global Impact Narratives.

The Ethics of Humanitarian Photography and Informed Consent

Photography in humanitarian settings is a powerful tool. It viscerally humanizes the work being done in ways that help mobilize and sustain support, and shines a light on outstanding challenges that demand global attention. Yet, it also carries immense ethical responsibilities, particularly regarding informed consent and the dignity of those portrayed.

The Role of Photography in Humanitarian Work

Images from humanitarian crises are often used to raise funds, advocate for policy changes, and build awareness. The emotional impact of seeing a project beneficiary's photograph can move donors to act in ways that words alone cannot. However, this same power raises critical ethical questions: Are the subjects of these photos fully aware of how their images will be used? Are their rights and dignity being respected?

Informed Consent: A Legal and Ethical Imperative

Most NGOs rely on written consent forms from donors such as USAID to fulfill their legal requirements for capturing and using photographs. Typically written in English legalese, these forms explain that the images may be used for promotional, educational, or fundraising purposes. While this approach protects the organization from legal liability, it often falls short of ensuring genuine informed consent for the people depicted.

Many individuals in humanitarian settings face language barriers, limited literacy, or traumatic circumstances that may impair their ability to fully comprehend the implications of signing such forms. Furthermore, the inherent power dynamics between aid providers and recipients can lead to coercion—whether explicit or implicit—in the consent process.

Moving Beyond the Legal Framework

To address these challenges, humanitarian organizations must adopt ethical practices that prioritize the dignity and autonomy of the communities they serve. Here are some steps to consider:

1. Transparency in Purpose: Before capturing any image, photographers should explain why the photograph is being taken, how it will be used, and who will have access to it. This explanation should be in the subject's local language to ensure she understands. Make it clear that services will never be denied if someone does not consent, and observe body language to ensure the person truly feels comfortable. I typically won't even pull out my camera until I'm confident there's genuine comfort. I also let them know the most visible possible ways their image might be used, such as on the cover of an organizational website or annual report. Because, in reality, I usually have no idea how (or if) the photo will ultimately be used when I'm snapping pictures.

2. True Informed Consent: While written forms may still need to be filled out for donor purposes, obtaining genuine informed verbal consent is a prerequisite to ensuring ethical humanitarian photography. This step reflects a deeper respect for the individual’s autonomy and dignity. Extra care must be given when it comes to children, and parents or guardians must give that consent.

3. Ongoing Consent: Consent should not be a one-time event. If the intended use of an image changes, organizations must make efforts to re-engage with the individuals depicted to ensure continued consent.

4. Avoiding Exploitation: Photographers must strive to represent subjects with dignity. Images that sensationalize suffering or portray individuals as mere victims rob them of agency and can perpetuate harmful stereotypes.

5. Empowering Local Narratives: Wherever possible, empower community members to tell their own stories. Training local photographers or using participatory photography projects can shift the narrative control to those most affected by the crisis.

6. Show and Share the Photos: I typically show community members their photos during or after I've taken them (which is also a great way for getting better engagement in the photography process). Whenever possible, I work with local colleagues to provide these people with printed versions of the digital images I've captured later on.

7. Mindful Representation: When taking or using photos, it is essential to consider how images might be interpreted. For example, a person sitting in the frame of an HIV clinic might be presumed to be HIV positive, even though they might just be accompanying someone else. Careful thought should go into ensuring that images do not imply something unintended.

8. Alternative Approaches to Consent: Beyond written forms, NGOs should consider using video or audio consent methods, which can capture the nuances of an informed agreement more effectively.
   

Balancing Ethics and Impact

Organizations may argue that stringent ethical practices could limit their ability to raise funds or spread awareness. While this tension is real, the long-term trust and credibility built through ethical practices far outweigh the short-term gains of questionable consent processes.

By placing the dignity and rights of community members at the center of their media practices, NGOs can demonstrate a commitment to the very principles they advocate for: equity, respect, and justice.

Conclusion

Humanitarian photography must walk a fine line between advocacy and exploitation. Moving beyond legal consent forms to embrace a genuinely ethical approach is not just a matter of compliance but a reflection of the core values of humanitarianism. Informed consent, when done right, is not a bureaucratic hurdle but a profound act of respect for the people whose stories we seek to tell.