Why it’s not my client’s job to promote me

There’s a strange shift happening in PR and social media lately. More and more agencies are turning their clients into marketing content, not just anonymous wins or campaign results, but actual photoshoots, tagged posts, and logo wall selfies that feel more about clout than client work.

It’s something I’ve always avoided. Not because I’m shy about what I do, but because I genuinely don’t think the client should ever be used as a flex. They’re not a prop. And they definitely don’t owe me a post.

Clients don’t hire me to build my profile. They hire me to protect theirs.

Why I never take photos with clients

I’ve never once taken a photo with a client, and I never will. Not at events, not after a launch, not even after a crisis is sorted. It’s not some carefully constructed mystery. I just think it’s a bit naff.

It also helps that I hate having my photo taken. I forget to take pictures when I’m out with friends half the time. I’m not really a “look at me” person, and even having a website makes me die a little inside. I’m much happier behind the scenes, doing the work quietly. I don’t mind the odd bit of press when it’s actually useful or decent promotion.

The second a client ends up in a photo on someone’s grid, it becomes a signal. People start guessing why they’re with a crisis person, what they’re trying to control, what’s really going on. Even if nothing is going on. And that noise is exactly what most people are trying to avoid when they come to someone like me.

Why clients don’t follow me

There’s a growing expectation now that clients should publicly follow or tag their PR team. Some agencies even include it in contracts. Clauses that say they can be mentioned in posts, credited in interviews, or tagged when something goes well. I’ve never understood that.

My clients don’t follow me. It keeps things simple. If they’re in a sensitive situation, the last thing they want is people scrolling through who they follow and turning it into speculation. My bio says crisis PR. Even outside of a crisis, it avoids unnecessary noise. No assumptions. No clues to connect. No weird side quests for fans or journos to latch onto.

One client did follow me once. They were in LA, I was asleep in the UK. By the time I woke up, their fans had already noticed and were questioning why. It was literally just a follow. But that’s how quickly people spiral into nonsense. So I don’t want clients to follow me, and I don’t follow them either. It’s just easier that way.

The problem with logo wall PR

There’s a recent trend of agencies posing clients in front of their office wall logos, like they’ve joined the team or signed a new deal. It’s awkward. It makes the agency the focus.

I’ve seen clients who are mid-crisis being wheeled in for a photo. Or agencies posting subtle brag captions while quietly managing a reputation issue. It completely undermines what most clients actually want, which is to get through a mess without drawing more attention to it. For me it also just feels like a slap in the face to the person going through something stressful.

How marketing clauses sneak in

Some agencies include marketing rights in their contracts. Things like permission to post screenshots, share campaign outcomes, or quote from emails. Sometimes it’s opt-in. Sometimes it’s just buried in the small print. Either way, it means your team is potentially building their own brand using your name.

If you’re paying someone to protect your reputation, you probably don’t want to become part of their grid.

Why it’s not my client’s job to promote me

It’s not their responsibility. If someone’s going through something difficult, or just trying to move carefully, they shouldn’t have to stop and tag the agency. I’m not here to be promoted. I’m here to do the job properly and stay out of the way.

I don’t ask to be tagged. I don’t add logos to things. I don’t expect clients to post a thank you. If they want to recommend me, they will. But that should always come from them, not because it was written into a deal.

My website is basically the county cricket of PR

Compared to the American PR world, I probably come across flat. Their crisis experts are brilliant at packaging themselves. Glossy websites, punchy taglines, dramatic job titles. They’re brilliant at it. They’ve nailed the art of turning themselves into the brand.

My website, by comparison, is basically the county cricket of PR. Quiet. A bit functional. Slightly text-heavy. No fireworks. No trailer video. Just some copy and a contact form. American PR sites feel like the Super Bowl. Mine feels like it might ask if you want to renew your library card.

And that’s fine. I get flustered when someone thanks me too sincerely. I’m not a “personal brand” type of person. I’m sure there are a few Brits who’ve leaned into the performance of it, but I think I sit more with the majority. Quietly working in the background, not desperate for applause.

I’m also just a massive dork

I’ve always been more interested in the psychology of cancellation than in whoever’s being cancelled. I love the nerdy side of the job. The patterns. The behaviour shifts. The strategy behind it all. I never grew up obsessed with celebrities and I couldn’t give a monkey’s ass about someone being famous. Which is probably why I’ve never once felt the urge to boast about clients.

Some people in my life have been genuinely shocked I don’t use my client list to get more work. And yes, I probably lose some clients because of that. But I’m pretty sure I gain just as many from not turning clients into content. If you’re looking for someone discreet, you’ll clock that from how I operate, not from a tag on someone else’s feed.

It’s about people, not headlines

I’ve always believed in giving people the benefit of the doubt. I know that’s not fashionable right now, but I think it’s really sad how little space there is to just mess up. You’re expected to be perfect at all times. No learning curve. No mistakes. Just constant performance.

I’d love to meet the person insulting strangers online who’s somehow lived a flawless life. Never put a foot wrong. Never fucked up. No regrets. That person doesn’t exist. And yet we’ve created a culture that acts like they do.

I don’t judge people for fucking up. Most of the time, that’s exactly what it is, a fuck-up. People are allowed to grow. That used to be the point. Now it’s just cancellation. It’s robotic. It makes communication fake. People don’t say what they actually think anymore, they say what won’t get them in trouble.

That’s why I like this work. I’ve seen how brutal the internet can be. How quickly things escalate. How hard it is to correct something once it’s on Google. And how often the people being punished aren’t the ones who deserve it. There’s something satisfying about helping someone get out of that mess. Not because they’re famous. Just because they didn’t deserve to be destroyed.

I also know how the internet works. Properly. Clients don’t always understand why certain things resurface or how to fix what’s already out there. That’s where I come in. It’s the part I genuinely enjoy. I’ve had to Google people I’ve been asked to comment on. I don’t always know who’s currently trending. But I always know how to handle the problem. That’s the bit that matters.