When They Don’t Listen

The Cost of Knowing Better in PR and Marketing


There is something uniquely challenging about being the person in the room who knows what should happen next, can explain why it should happen, and has the experience to back it up, only to watch that advice go unheeded.

For those of us who work in public relations, marketing, and communications, this may sound familiar.

We have spent years learning our craft. We understand the nuances of messaging, audience behavior, brand positioning, media relations, social media strategy, reputation management, and the delicate balance between what an organization wants to say and what its audiences actually need to hear.

We know that a successful campaign is about more than a clever tagline or a beautifully designed graphic. We know that timing matters. Context matters. Consistency matters. And, perhaps most importantly, understanding the audience matters.

We have learned these things through education, experience, trial and error, professional development, and sometimes through the hard lessons that come from watching a campaign miss the mark.

So, when we offer strategic advice to the companies, organizations, and leadership teams we support, we aren't simply sharing an opinion. We are bringing accumulated knowledge, professional judgment, and a perspective informed by our experience.

And yet, sometimes, that advice doesn't land.

Sometimes it gets dismissed. Sometimes it gets watered down until the original strategy is barely recognizable. Sometimes leadership has already decided what it wants to do and is simply looking for someone in communications to execute the plan.

And sometimes, the people who need to hear us most simply aren't listening—or aren't choosing to listen.

So, what do we do when our expertise is invited into the room but our recommendations aren't welcomed at the table?


The Power of “Let Them”


I've been thinking about the “Let Them” approach popularized by Mel Robbins and how it applies to those of us working in PR and marketing.

The concept is simple: let people make their own choices. Let them hold their opinions. Let them decide whether to accept your advice.

That doesn't mean we stop caring about our work. It doesn't mean we abandon our professional standards or pretend we don't see the potential consequences of a decision.

It means we recognize what we can control—and what we cannot.

I can research the audience, develop the strategy, identify the risks, explain the rationale, and make a thoughtful, evidence-based recommendation.

I can present the information clearly and make sure the decision-makers understand the potential implications.

But I cannot force someone to value my perspective. I cannot make a leader embrace a strategy they don't believe in. And I cannot single-handedly create a culture in which expertise is respected.

Sometimes, the healthiest response is to let them make the decision.

Then, let me focus on what I can do next.


Document the advice.

Protect the work.


Here's where “Let Them” becomes more than a mindset. It becomes a professional practice.

When I provide strategic recommendations that aren't adopted, I can document them.

I can maintain a record of the recommendations I've made, the rationale behind them, the risks I've identified, and the decisions that were ultimately made. I can follow up with a clear, professional email summarizing the discussion and confirming the agreed-upon direction.

This isn't about creating a paper trail to prove someone wrong later. It's about ensuring that important information doesn't disappear into a meeting recap or get lost in the rush to execute.

Documentation protects the integrity of the process. It creates clarity around expectations and decisions. It also gives everyone a shared understanding of what was recommended and why.

And when reputational, legal, regulatory, or other material risks are involved, documenting concerns becomes especially important. In those situations, I have a responsibility to raise the issue through the appropriate channels rather than simply shrugging and moving on.

Once I've communicated my professional assessment, made the case for a better approach, and documented the decision, I can stop carrying the burden of trying to control the outcome.

I can own my recommendation without owning every decision made in response to it.

That distinction matters.


When execution becomes the expectation and strategy becomes optional...


There is another challenge we don't always talk about openly.

What happens when leadership repeatedly asks us to develop or execute PR and marketing plans that we believe are fundamentally flawed?

Perhaps the target audience is wrong. Perhaps the messaging doesn't reflect the organization's values or actual capabilities. Perhaps the campaign is disconnected from the broader business objectives. Perhaps the organization wants to spend money on tactics without investing in the strategy needed to make those tactics effective.

We explain the concerns. We recommend alternatives. We offer a more thoughtful path forward.

And then we're asked to execute the original plan anyway.

At some point, we have to ask ourselves whether we're being hired for our expertise or simply for our ability to produce deliverables.

There is a difference between being a strategic partner and being an order taker.

Of course, not every disagreement means leadership is wrong. We don't have access to every consideration, and our preferred approach isn't automatically the best one. Good strategy requires collaboration, humility, and a willingness to reconsider our assumptions.

But when the same concerns are repeatedly raised and dismissed, when our role is reduced to implementation without meaningful input, or when we're expected to put our professional credibility behind work we cannot genuinely recommend, the situation deserves a closer look.

We may need to establish clearer boundaries. We may need to renegotiate our role. We may need to explain what we can responsibly deliver under the circumstances.

And, in some cases, we may need to consider moving on.


But at what cost?


This is the question that makes the “Let Them” approach complicated in the professional world.

Walking away sounds empowering until we consider what walking away might actually cost.

It could mean losing a client, a contract, a paycheck, a position, or a professional relationship we've invested years in building. It could mean leaving a team we care about or an organization whose mission we genuinely believe in.

For consultants and agency professionals, it might mean giving up a significant source of revenue. For someone working inside an organization, it might mean risking job security or starting over somewhere else.

And let's be honest: not everyone has the financial flexibility, professional support, or career circumstances that make walking away a realistic immediate option.

So, I don't believe the answer is to resign every time our advice is ignored. Nor do I believe we should quietly accept every decision simply because challenging it is uncomfortable.

I believe the answer begins with being intentional.


Before I decide whether to stay or go, I need to ask myself some difficult questions:



Those questions don't always lead to an immediate decision. Sometimes, they lead to a plan: clarify expectations, strengthen documentation, seek a more productive working relationship, build financial flexibility, or begin exploring other opportunities.

The point isn't to make a dramatic exit. It's to make an informed decision about where our expertise, energy, and talents are best invested.


Let them.

But don't abandon yourself.


I think this is the part of the conversation that matters most.

Let them make the decision. Let them choose the campaign. Let them decide whether to follow your recommendation.

But don't let their decision convince you that your knowledge has no value.

Don't let a leadership team's unwillingness to listen diminish the years you've spent developing your craft.

Don't confuse being overruled with being unqualified.

And don't allow the desire to prove that you were right to consume the time and energy you need to do your best work.

Our responsibility is to bring our expertise to the table, communicate our recommendations thoughtfully, explain the risks, remain open to new information, and act with integrity.

It is not our responsibility to force people to agree with us.

At the same time, we must recognize that our professional credibility is an asset. The organizations we serve may make the final decisions, but we still have choices about how we contribute, what we endorse, where we establish boundaries, and when we decide that a particular environment is no longer the right fit.

Sometimes, staying is the right decision. We can continue to influence the work, build relationships, and create progress in small but meaningful ways.

Sometimes, a boundary is the right decision. We can clarify what we're willing to do, what we recommend against, and what conditions are necessary for us to deliver effective work.

And sometimes, leaving is the right decision—not because we failed to convince someone, but because we have recognized that the environment no longer allows us to contribute in the way we know we can.

The key is understanding the difference between walking away out of frustration and choosing to move forward with intention.


Our expertise deserves a seat at the table.


PR and marketing professionals are often expected to make organizations look good, communicate effectively, build trust, and protect reputations. Yet we cannot consistently achieve those outcomes if we're excluded from the conversations that shape the decisions behind them.

Our expertise should be more than a resource organizations tap when they need a press release, a social media calendar, a campaign, or a quick response to a reputational challenge.

It should be part of the decision-making process from the beginning.

And when it isn't, we have to decide what that means for us.

For me, the “Let Them” approach isn't about becoming indifferent. It's about becoming more discerning. It's about understanding that I can care deeply about the work without taking personal responsibility for every decision made around it.

I can advocate for the right strategy without fighting every battle.

I can document my recommendations without becoming consumed by the need to be vindicated.

I can respect leadership's authority while recognizing my own professional boundaries.

And I can acknowledge the financial, emotional, and professional costs of leaving without automatically assuming that staying is the better choice.

Because there is a cost to walking away.

But there is also a cost to staying in an environment where your expertise is consistently overlooked, your recommendations are routinely dismissed, and your role is reduced to executing decisions you were brought in to help shape.

The question isn't simply whether we can afford to walk away. It's whether we can afford to keep working in a way that diminishes the value of what we bring to the table.

I'm curious how other PR, marketing, and communications professionals navigate this tension.

When you've offered sound strategic advice and leadership has chosen a different path, how do you respond? How do you balance professional integrity with organizational realities? And how do you know when it's time to keep advocating, set a boundary, or move on?

I'd love to hear your perspective.



#PublicRelations #MarketingStrategy #Communications #Leadership #ProfessionalGrowth #LetThem