Five Posts a Week Won't Make You a Better Coach
On Staying Human in an Algorithm-Driven World
I've been facing a major dilemma around my work as a leadership and transformational coach lately. Do I fall in line with what feels like a drastic reinvention of how I position myself in order to meet the demands of the AI-driven referral and social media world, or do I stay true to who I am as a coach and do what I do best? That is, have deep and meaningful conversations that help my clients see things differently and find new possibilities for themselves.
What do I mean by "fall in line with the demands of the AI-driven referral and social media world"? Well, after noticing a sharp drop in enquiries via my website this year (and virtually a complete halt in May), I began doing some serious research (using claude.ai, of course). Some of what might be causing my issues started becoming apparent, and with a gnawing sense of worry growing in my stomach, it soon became very clear that the world as I know it has tipped on its axis.
Gone, it seems, are the days of doing what I do best — coaching — while my modest, self-created website ticks along quietly in the background, enabling prospective clients to find me and connect. In real layman's terms (this is genuinely not my world) it turns out there's been some significant rearchitecting in the way Google works, driven by the rise of AI. As a result, people aren't apparently landing on websites the way they used to. More searches, it would seem, are now answered directly by AI overviews before a user ever scrolls to an actual result i.e. a website like mine.
Not only this, but I’ve learnt that Google has tightened its criteria for citing you in those AI overviews. This isn't necessarily a bad thing — they're looking for 'authority': qualifications, quality content, social media presence — signals that you know your stuff and are worth referring. But the 'quality' content it's seeking needs to meet its own prescribed criteria: for example, clear answer blocks (50–70-word direct answers at the start of content), clean structure with action lists, strong author profiles, and something called schema markup (don't ask me). Additionally, it seems you need to be producing a high volume of content across multiple channels — LinkedIn, Instagram and so forth. Five or six LinkedIn articles a week, was one figure I came across. Optimum, prescribed lengths. Cross-platform videos and stories, with content tailored differently for each platform. As I reeled at the prospect of doing all of this, I started being told about AI subscription tools that could help me — the content, the scheduling, the design. How convenient.
The more I read, the more exhausted and overwhelmed I started to feel. I love my coaching and spending my free time developing my coaching knowledge and skills. Here I was facing a practically full-time second job, or the cost of hiring people who actually understand this world, just to keep my business visible. But the worst part wasn't the workload. It was the disquieting feeling that, in the process of conforming enough to be 'discovered', I'd lose the essence of who I am. I would become just another ubiquitous social media poster, churning out ‘quota content’ and rapid firing it across multiple platforms. I felt despondent at the prospect. How could I ever do all this? Would I even want to? And wouldn't I be driving my connections mad with spammy, AI-generated, coach-y schlock — all for the sake of keeping the algorithm happy? And who would I even be attracting? Surely not clients who value quality, critical thinking and depth.
After a few days hunched over my laptop, frantically firing questions at Claude, scrolling and reading until my eyes ached, and having conversations with many people who seemed as frazzled and worried as I was, I realised I was being sucked into the AI machine. I’d stopped thinking for myself. I was reacting, beginning to comply and execute on autopilot. I was on the verge of buying a subscription to a social media management tool. I was researching AI-supported video content tools. I was throwing article ideas at Claude and getting it to spew plausible-sounding-but-not-really articles back at me. This wasn't me. I felt swamped. I needed to stop and think and pull myself towards myself. So, I did the most natural thing in the world: I set up a conversation with a trusted coaching colleague.
During our conversation, I didn't gather any new facts or data. I wasn't exposed to new tools or methods for becoming visible within an algorithm-driven system. Instead, I felt another person’s complete attunement to my experience. As I spoke things out aloud in the presence of my colleague, she listened not just to my words, but also to the tension in my voice, the changes in my energy – the clues revealing deeper emotions and beliefs. She held a space for me to see myself more fully and objectively, enabling me to verify (or debunk!) my narratives and consider new possibilities. Her presence allowed me to find a still point within myself, where I reconnected with my values and my purpose. Through experiencing it, I was reminded of the power of being fully seen and heard by another person. Of being supported and guided by an expert who specialises in unlocking what lies at the heart of the matter, without telling you what to do.
In this deeply human exchange, I found myself feeling hopeful and accessing an inner knowing I might not have reached alone. Simply put, the world is changing. In the spirit of evolution, I will adapt as needed, but I won’t become a frenzied, digital ghost being run by systems. Rather, I will remain true to myself and the knowledge that I have something of value to offer within these dizzying times. Just as I am: a breathing, feeling, thinking coach.
This coaching experience also highlighted something I want to address directly: not just what AI demands of coaches in terms of visibility, but what AI simply cannot do as a coach — and why that matters. Because here's the thing. AI-generated content and SEO/AIO headaches aside, it’s likely that many people are turning to AI instead of coaching for help when facing a challenge, and this is probably another reason my enquiries have slowed.
AI is terrific for many things — I genuinely learn a great deal from it. But as a coach, it has limits that matter. It can't notice physical shifts that signal something deeper. It can't hold a person in discomfort, often a crucial step in a transformational process. AI is unlikely to challenge an assumption — in fact, it might sycophantically praise you for it. It won't notice a blind spot. It won't invite you to ponder a new possibility, creating the space to dream. It won't sit in a long silence with you while you do your best generative thinking. It doesn't feel a tingle and share a smile when you see something that opens a door in your mind. Nor does it feel a sense of concern as you describe something alarming or worrying with a laugh — and then offer the observation. It won't notice patterns beneath your stories. It won't have a sense of something familiar – a tone, a belief, a gesture - resonate from an earlier conversation that might be relevant to what you're sharing now, and it certainly won't offer it to you with curiosity. It won’t share a funny moment and laugh with you.
Why does all of this matter? Because these are precisely the things that make transformative change possible. With AI, we gather data on which we can execute. But even if we act on the tips or advice it gives us, essentially, we stay the same. Working with a transformative human coach is a different undertaking entirely. We get to explore deep-seated attitudes and perceptions, the things that shape our behaviour and the way we see and relate to the world. These are often hard to find and uncover, let alone interrogate, and where helpful, change. This is the work of human evolution. Of growing beyond ourselves. Of expanding. With AI we may get smarter. Working with a coach, we mature and grow wiser.
What is coaching actually for? It isn't content. It isn't information. It's transformation. And transformation requires human beings with heart and soul on both sides of the conversation.
So here's where I've landed. I'll take some practical steps to keep my website current and I won't bury my head completely in the sand about how the landscape is changing. But I won't conform to the point of becoming a media machine rather than a committed coach. I will focus on offering what I believe is genuinely useful — based on the needs of my clients, not the whims of an algorithm. I'm also committing to writing my own content rather than leaning on AI. This matters to me as a point of integrity, and practically, it keeps my critical thinking sharp — which is essential when I'm facilitating high-quality coaching conversations.
I am going to be true to myself and continue writing pieces like this: pure me, no AI involved.
I started with a dilemma. What I found, underneath it, was clarity. So, this is me. A human coach, with a human level of social media output — all of it written by me, and hopefully useful. What do I offer? Real conversations. Real change. If you want to connect, please drop me a line.