Welcome to Issue 56 of A Good Reputation, a newsletter about how to become a better storyteller and grow your brand. (Did someone send you? Subscribe here.) (Miss past issues? Read those here.)

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Hello Reader,

There was no way I was getting the job.

But after a year trapped in my first newsroom—the kind of place that chews people up and calls it “paying your dues”—I was desperate to get out of my current situation.

The hours sucked, the commute was brutal, and I’d been hit on more than once by my handsy editor-in-chief, who was multiple decades older than me. There was no HR department to complain to, and the publisher in charge was a classic narcissist in a power suit—a woman who’d fought her way to the top in the ‘80s and seemed to get off on putting down younger women on the climb.

The only saving grace at this place was that you could bring dogs to work, as long as they stayed on a leash by your desk. I didn’t have a dog at the time, but I spent many lunch breaks soothing my stress by petting my coworker’s poodle.

I was interviewing for another reporter position with their top competitor and, by some miracle, made it to the final round. After an HR screening and a writing test, it was down to me and one other candidate.

When I mentioned my situation to a trusted coworker over lunch, she gave me a look. “You know Liz is interviewing there too, right?”

Liz, my current (and much more experienced) colleague.

Liz had six years on the beat, a fat roster of lead sources, and half a decade’s worth of industry connections. Unlike me, she actually knew what she was talking about.

The only thing we had in common was our desperation to leave.

Knowing I couldn’t beat out Liz for the job based on experience or connections alone, I decided to lean into the one thing she didn’t have: my personality.

So, at my last interview with the publisher and chief editor, I brought my whole shelf.

I shared stories that showed how I learn, how I relate to people, and how I work. I talked about my values and my interests. I asked questions. I showed my curiosity. I made them laugh.

I tried not just to be myself, but the best version of myself.

And guess what?

I got the job.

A Good Reframe

I recently came across a theory from both Rob Henderson and Jay Acunzo that argues people tend to fall into one of two roles in society:

The experts and the elites. (Or, as Jay labels it—analysts and evangelists.)

These are archetypes that shape how we show up in the world and online.

In the simplest terms, experts/analysts are people who know things, like scientists, specialists, beat reporters, or engineers. It’s anyone whose credibility comes from technical competence. They tend to be detail-oriented and cautious, and focused more on what’s right than on who’s listening.

Their mission is to get to the truth of something, and they’re evaluated on whether their work holds up.

Their biggest problem? They lack reach.

Their work is only as influential as the number of people who understand it, and they tend to talk within their field instead of to the public.

Elites, on the other hand, aren’t judged by technical knowledge as much as by their ability to impress across a broader range of people. According to Rob, they’re the people “who move things,” and their mission is to influence people to act.

These are your politicians, executives, media personalities, and influencers. They’re the big-picture thinkers and persuasive communicators who can rally people around a shared goal and tend to shape culture.

Their problem is that they often risk surface-level thinking or moral grandstanding. And because they depend on status and consensus, elites can end up shaping truth rather than following it, leading to a lack of trust in the long term.

The reason all this matters is that the people we tend to trust, follow, and hire are often performing both roles at once.

And while it’s a spectrum, most of us tend to lean toward one archetype or the other.

I see experts all over the internet who are credible and experienced but nearly invisible. People respect them, sure, but no one follows them, and their reach is usually limited to other experts.

On the other end, I see elites who are popular and get tons of engagement, but have no real influence that leads to meaningful business outcomes. Without proof that what they’re selling works, we don’t trust them for very long.

The bottom line is that to build a brand online (or anywhere), we need to be both right and resonant. You need to build a body of work that not only proves you know something worth hearing but also communicates it in a way worth spreading.

When I first started building my brand online, I went all in on expertise and managed to capture the attention of peers who agreed with me, but who weren’t ever going to pay me.

Then I swung in the opposite direction with big ideas and hardly any concrete steps or tactical application to help my ideal client understand my process or see proof that it worked.

Eventually, I learned that the sweet spot is somewhere in the middle.

A Good Framework

The simplest way I think about it is this: Experts tell you how to do something, while elites tell you why it matters.

Again, to have reach and resonance, you need both.

The way to do that is by borrowing strengths from one another to create a more complete form of authority.

If you skew analyst or expert (meaning your content is smart but struggles to make us care), you can try to:

1. Telling more stories. Share why you started, a transformation you facilitated, a lesson you learned, or a moment you changed your mind.
2. Writing one “why now” essay or series. Tie your method to a timely tension or make it culturally relevant so readers feel urgency.
3. Borrowing an elite signal. Collaborate with a tastemaker, guest on a newsletter, or speak on a relevant stage.

If you skew elite or evangelist (meaning you’re magnetic but light on proof), try:

1. Grounding your ideas in frameworks. Create templates, models, or processes that help your audience apply your ideas.
2. Showing your results. Share before-and-after stories, mini case studies, or concrete outcomes clients can expect.
3. Sending expert signals. Publish original research, polls, or teardown analyses that show how your approach works, not just why it matters.

If expert/analyst types earn respect and elite/evangelist types earn reach, then the ones who master both earn trust.

When your ideas are both believable and buzzworthy, you become the person people trust to explain what’s happening and inspire them to care about it.

A Good Takeaway

I didn’t beat Liz on expertise. I won on resonance. But to keep the job and grow in it, I had to pair resonance with real, repeatable value.

It’s the same approach I eventually figured out works online. Because whether you're trying to get hired, get noticed, or be trusted, it’s all the same game.

You can’t out-credential everyone else. But you can out-connect them.

Start with resonance built around your stories, your perspective, your one-of-a-kind voice. That’s what gets you in the room. Then back it up with proof and the body of work that shows you can deliver once you’re there.

That’s how I got out of that first newsroom. And it’s still how I build everything that matters today.

A Couple of Good Resources

1. If you're stuck between what you know and how to share it, the New Narratives Retreat was designed to help you get clarity. Applications are now officially open (and six seats have already been claimed!).
2. If you're looking for examples of successful thought leaders who strike that balance, check out Adriana Tica. She just released an original report that's extremely valuable for her target audience of solopreneurs.

Hope you have a good one,
Renee