Narrative, narrative, narrative.
Some weeks, a theme keeps showing up in my inbox until it demands a post. Lately, that theme has been narrative—who owns it, who tells it, and why every company is suddenly scrambling to hire someone who can “fix” it.
Anthropic is advertising a $400,000 base salary for a “Head of GTM Narrative.” Other companies are posting for “Chief Storyteller.” A few even reached out and asked me some version of: “Will you help us with our storytelling?”
That tells you something:
In a world drowning in artificial content, story has become the premium asset.
But here’s the tension nobody likes to admit—
You can’t hire your way out of narrative confusion.
A narrative is not a memo. It’s not a deck. It’s not a job description.
A narrative is a living organism.
It breathes. It grows. It changes shape as your company changes shape.
And it lives in two places only:
-
the founder’s bones
-
the sales team’s tongue
That’s it.
You can hire editors, polishers, advisors, and strategists—smart moves, all of them. But if the founder can’t articulate the why, and the sales team can’t transmit the meaning, the narrative never takes hold. It becomes top-down theater: pretty language with no pulse.
My short, perhaps impolite, take:
Narrative development comes down to two things:
-
A coach who helps the founder sharpen the story.
Someone outside the noise who pushes, pries, questions, and distills. Not a ghostwriter—a mirror. -
Sales leads who can transmit energy on contact.
Charisma matters. Belief matters. A customer should walk away thinking, I’m not just buying something; I’m joining something.
Founders raise capital.
Sales teams generate revenue.
Both jobs require a narrative strong enough to carry.
And here’s where this hits home for me.
When we began building Reflekta, the goal wasn’t to engineer another AI product. It was to honor the one thing technology can’t manufacture: the human story. The quirks. The lived experience. The soul of a person who has actually been here.
Reflekta only works because the narrative is clear:
Humans need humans. Stories are the bridge. Technology is the vessel.
That narrative guides the product, the research, the partnerships—even the tone of the conversations we build. It’s not packaging; it’s purpose.
So yes, narrative is hot right now.
It should be.
But the responsibility hasn’t changed.
If you’re a founder, the narrative starts with you.
If you’re a leader, the narrative passes through you.
If you’re building something meant to last, the narrative becomes your legacy.
And legacy, in the end, is just another word for story.
About the Author:
Miles Spencer is a multi-exit founder, investor, and storyteller. His work at the intersection of memory and technology is rooted in personal experience and a deep belief in legacy.

