Why writing can be a strategic tool for leaders and organisations

What indicators can help us determine whether a writing-based programme is actually delivering value for the company?

Indicators do exist, provided that writing is not reduced to a mechanical metric. Value, for example, can be seen in the quality of decisions: greater clarity of criteria, less reactivity, and the ability to distinguish between facts, interpretations and emotions. In terms of engagement, the indicators are even more evident: people participate more authentically, voice their needs and concerns, and feel they have a say. In collaboration, they are reflected in more precise communication, fewer unspoken issues, more mature feedback, more focused meetings and a stronger shared memory. The impact becomes apparent when the organisation learns from its own experiences.

In the age of Gen AI, does the ability to write remain a key leadership skill? Or is it at risk of becoming marginal?

It does not become marginal; it becomes even more distinctive. However, there is an important point to clarify, in my view: the true skill of leadership is not ‘writing well’, but thinking, choosing and making sense of things. And these tasks can also be carried out through writing. AI can speed things up, reorganise, and make suggestions, and it is useful. But it cannot replace what might be called ‘the responsibility of the human gaze’ – that is, the ability to identify what really matters, to ask targeted questions, to recognise nuances, and to hold together vision and experience. For a leader, writing means clarifying one’s own thoughts before entrusting them to a tool: those who cannot write will become increasingly dependent on AI, whilst those who can write are able to harness it. In this sense, mindful writing is a key leadership skill because it cultivates discernment, depth and presence.

What are the main cultural barriers you encounter today when you propose your approach to writing to managers and organisations?

The main one is the fear of exposing oneself. Many managers associate writing with something personal and vulnerable, because they fear judgement, a loss of control and the revelation of their fragility. Added to this is a corporate culture that is still very much focused on immediate performance, where taking time to reflect can seem like a waste of time. Another barrier is the idea that writing means ‘being able to write well’, whereas the point here is not the form but the quality of thought that writing stimulates.

What mistakes could jeopardise the adoption of this tool?

Forcing students to share their work, using written pieces as assessment tools, failing to build trust, and setting exercises that are too abstract or far removed from the reality of the workplace. Writing works best when it is a safe space and is aimed at fostering self-awareness.

How can we prevent corporate books from becoming self-referential storytelling exercises, rather than genuine forces for cohesion?

The risk is real, particularly when a book or narrative is created with the aim of crafting a certain image. How can this be avoided? By starting from the premise that a corporate story must provoke reflection. When the aim is to bring together diverse voices, acknowledge critical moments and mistakes, even celebrating achievements and transformations can become a genuine source of cohesion. Authentic storytelling does not erase complexity but gives it meaning: this is why it is important to involve multiple levels of the organisation, avoid a single dominant voice, preserve even the discontinuities, and link the stories to values that are actually practised – not merely declared. A corporate book works when people recognise themselves in it and when memory becomes a guide for the future. It should not say ‘how good we are’, but ‘who we have become, what we have learnt and what vision we are striving towards’.

Looking ahead to the next five to ten years, will writing become a permanent fixture in HR processes as a widely used management tool, or is it likely to remain a niche practice?

I believe the first hypothesis is correct, and there are many indications pointing in that direction. Writing will be understood as a cross-cutting skill relating to thinking, leadership and learning. Conscious writing is already gaining ground, even abroad, as a ‘soft skill’ of the future, but in reality it is much more than that: it is an ability to maintain presence and find one’s bearings amidst complexity. There is, of course, a risk that it will remain the preserve of a minority, particularly in organisations that seek only quick and immediately measurable tools. But the most forward-thinking companies will realise that writing helps to develop awareness, memory, vision, decision-making skills and, as I have already mentioned, cohesion too. It will not be the same for everyone, but it will increasingly become part of leadership programmes, training and organisational culture.

One final question. What is the step that transforms the benefits achievable at an individual level into improved organisational performance?

This transition is not automatic, and it is important to emphasise this. Personal growth only generates organisational value when it is linked to shared practices, responsibilities and processes. Greater individual awareness, on its own, is not enough: it must translate into clearer decisions, more mature communication, the ability to learn from mistakes and the quality of relationships. There is a risk of overestimating this link when writing is presented as an individual solution to systemic problems: this is why it must be integrated into managerial culture and HR processes, rather than left solely to personal discretion. Writing drives performance when it becomes a method, helping the organisation to transform what people understand into learning, and thus into action.