If Your Content Vanished, Would Anyone Notice?

In ​Cameron Crowe’s recent biography​, he revisits his in-depth interview with Led Zeppelin at the height of their fame.

At the time, Jimmy Page (lead guitar) disliked interviews and had little patience for the music press. He was especially wary of Rolling Stone. Crowe, still young and eager, persuaded Page by reframing the interview as a service to the fans. This would not be a critical profile or a piece with an agenda. It would simply give Zeppelin’s audience what they wanted most: direct access to the band, in their own words.

The result was a commercial success. The issue became the best-selling Rolling Stone to date. Letters poured in from Zeppelin fans around the world, grateful for the intimacy and respect of the piece. By the measures that most creators care about, the work had clearly succeeded.

A few weeks later, Crowe was summoned to meet Rolling Stone founder Jann Wenner. This alone was an honor. Wenner rarely met with freelance writers, and when he did, it was usually to praise them.

This meeting went differently.

Wenner told Crowe that while the piece pleased fans and satisfied the band, it failed in a more important way. Crowe had not taken a position. He had allowed access and audience service to dictate the story. A writer, Wenner argued, must decide what the story is about and what it stands for. Otherwise, the writer disappears from the work.

Crowe later said that something inside him died during that conversation. But something else emerged alongside it: a clearer understanding of authorship, voice, and responsibility. It’s hard to imagine Crowe creating ​Almost Famous​ without that lesson. The film itself is, in many ways, about the cost of surrendering your point of view.

That tension is one creators should be thinking about right now.

Position Is Not Volume or Controversy

When we talk about taking a position, many people assume it means being provocative, contrarian, or loud. That’s not necessarily the case. Position is not about picking fights or chasing attention. It is about commitment.

Position shows up in what you consistently emphasize and what you consistently leave out. It reveals itself in the ideas you return to even when they don’t perform best, and in the shortcuts you refuse to take even when they would be rewarded.

Crowe’s Zeppelin interview didn’t fail because it was inaccurate or poorly written. It failed because it was invisible. By subordinating his editorial judgment entirely to access and fan service, the work became interchangeable. It belonged to the band, not the writer.

And when that happens, the content may succeed in the moment, but it does not build lasting trust.

I’ve done this a few times myself, writing about top influencer lists or reviews of vendor reports. I knew these types of articles would perform well, but I never liked the output of the content. They felt, in a word, soulless. Maybe you’ve done this as well in the past.

The Creator’s Dilemma

Most creators today are doing what they’ve been taught to do. They listen carefully to their audience, study search behavior, respond to demand, and work hard to be useful. That approach is not wrong. In fact, it’s often how audiences are built in the first place.

The problem begins when relevance replaces identity.

Content that exists only to answer questions becomes easy to replace. It may rank well and perform efficiently, but it does not signal what you believe or why your voice matters. Over time, the creator becomes harder to distinguish from everyone else delivering the same correct information.

This is not a positioning problem as much as it is a commitment problem.

Why Style Is Recognizable

Music offers a helpful example. You can hear the opening notes of a Red Hot Chili Peppers song or a Billy Joel melody and recognize it immediately. That recognition does not come from novelty. It comes from consistency.

Those artists are not reacting to trends song by song. They are honoring a set of creative commitments they’ve made over decades. Their work carries a recognizable shape because they have decided what they will protect and what they will not compromise.

That is what position looks like over time.

A Better Question to Ask

When creators talk about finding their ​tilt​, the questions usually sound like this: Who is the audience? What content do we deliver? How do we deliver it?

Those questions matter, but they are incomplete.

The more important question is quieter and more demanding.

What belief does your content exist to protect?

We want that belief baked into your editorial or content mission. A proper mission gives you the ability to say no to ideas. And that’s exactly what we want.

If your work disappeared tomorrow, what idea would quietly weaken or vanish with it? Not what information would be missing, but what conviction would no longer be reinforced.

If you can answer that question, your position becomes clearer. Your content stops being merely helpful and starts becoming recognizable. And in a world overflowing with optimized, correct, interchangeable content, that commitment is what allows trust to form and endure.