I received a recognition I didn’t expect, in a category I didn’t think I belonged in.
At an Improving Global Town Hall, the recipients of our Improving 100 award were announced, and my name showed up under Technical Innovation. My first reaction was confusion. When I think of technical innovation, I think of the Improvers pushing AI and ML forward — building models, explaining architectures, doing the deep data science work. That’s not me. I can’t clearly articulate machine learning at even the basic level that some of my colleagues can. So how did I end up there?
Then I read the nominations. And something clicked.
Sharing the Journey, Not the Expertise
People weren’t recognizing me as an AI expert. They were recognizing me for sharing what I was doing with AI — openly, consistently, and honestly. For about 10 or 11 weeks, I spent an average of 3 hours every weekend recording videos of my workflows, showing how I used AI tools day to day. I took the transcripts, created audio and video overviews, wrote blog versions, and dropped everything into our AI Collab channel.
Most of the time, nobody said much. A few reactions here and there. One colleague reached out about a piece on AI-powered pull request reviews — he said it was exactly what he needed at exactly the right time. But beyond that, I had no idea if anyone was paying attention, which is ok, because I don’t do these things for attention; learning in public is something I’ve been doing, going back to my middle school years, as far as I remember.
It reminded me of something I wrote years ago: there’s always somebody listening. Even when nobody’s commenting. Even when you feel like you’re talking to an empty room.
The Imposter Syndrome Trap
Here’s the thing about imposter syndrome in this context — it doesn’t just make you doubt yourself. It makes you misunderstand the value of what you’re doing.
I was comparing myself to colleagues who understand the deep technical layers of AI and ML. And because I couldn’t match them on that level, I assumed what I was doing didn’t count. But the nominations told a different story. People weren’t looking for someone to explain neural networks. They were looking for someone who showed them that you can use AI effectively without being an expert in it. That you can start from wherever you are.
One nomination mentioned how humble my approach was. That word stuck with me. I wasn’t being humble on purpose — I genuinely don’t have it all figured out. But apparently, that honesty is part of what made it useful to others. And that resonates, as I wrote in this related post almost 20 years ago.
What Thought Leadership Actually Means
A while back, I came across a passage in a book about the English suffix -ship. It’s unrelated to the vessel. It means “quality, condition, skill, office” — to shape, create, form. Add -ship to the end of leader and you get something about shaping, not just commanding.
That reframing stuck with me. Thought leadership isn’t about being the loudest voice or the most polished expert. It’s about shaping — putting thoughts into other people’s minds that they might not have had otherwise. Leading them to develop their own ideas. Helping them find their own path.
A group of Improvers once wrote a definition:
A thought leader is:
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Someone who is involved, not necessarily excellent
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Someone who is sharing their journey, not necessarily their accomplishments
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Someone who is interacting and supporting, not necessarily publishing and speaking
That definition resonates with me. It strips away the performative layer and gets to what matters: showing up, being real, and helping others move forward.
Not a Factory — A Compass
I’ve never been comfortable with the idea of a “thought leadership factory.” The word factory paints a picture of uniformity — settled processes, one way of doing things, not much room for experimentation. That’s the opposite of what I think thought leadership should be.
The image I have in mind is a compass. Every compass finds North, but it’s up to each person to decide which direction they actually need to go. Sometimes someone is lost and needs help finding their bearings. Sometimes someone is stuck and doesn’t even know there are other places to go. In both cases, a compass helps — not by telling you where to go, but by giving you orientation.
That’s what sharing your journey does. It gives people orientation.
AI as Amplifier, Not Replacement
Reading The ROI of Thought Leadership reinforced something I’ve been practicing: AI is a tool for refining thinking, not replacing it. I don’t use AI to write about topics I don’t understand. I use it to explore questions, add clarity, and produce content from ideas that are already mine.
The book makes a strong point — thought leadership must be supported by original thinking, data, or lived experience. Merely repackaging other people’s ideas isn’t enough. Creativity and alignment with real business objectives are what make it land.
Storytelling matters too. Framing content as a solution to a real problem — rather than just a display of knowledge — is what makes people pay attention. That’s exactly what happened with the content I was putting out. I wasn’t showcasing how smart AI tools are. I was showing how they helped me solve problems in my work.
Building in Public and Growing Together
One of the most valuable things I did in 2025 was co-creating a weekly “building in public” meeting with my good friend Daniel. A small group of us showed up consistently, sharing what we were trying, what was working, and what wasn’t. AI was a constant thread in those conversations.
That group became a multiplier. Daniel’s work with his newsletter inspired me to create mine (Back to the Spiral Newsletter). His e-book work showed me the path was shorter than I thought. Because of how I was already using AI tools to process my blog posts and reflect on twenty years of writing, I realized I could do the newsletter thing. Then a short book. Then another book. Then talks derived from those books. It just kept multiplying.
But it wasn’t just me. Improvers asked great questions that pushed my thinking deeper. They tried things I hadn’t considered and came back to share their findings. We weren’t holding back. We were sharing, trying, failing together, learning together. That organic growth — that’s what thought leadership looks like when it’s working.
Innovation in Portuguese
In Brazilian Portuguese, “thought leadership” translates closer to innovation leadership. That connection hit me differently after the award. I don’t think of myself as a technical innovator. But I am using technology in innovative ways to fulfill needs. And I’m putting ideas into other people’s minds that they might not have had otherwise.
If that’s innovation, I’ll take it.
The recognition tied back to a vision I set in 2019 — to create a positive impact at Improving not just within the Houston office, but company-wide. Seeing it come together through something as simple as consistently sharing my journey — that’s what moves me.
The Quiet Part
The quiet part of thought leadership is that it often doesn’t feel like leadership while you’re doing it. It feels like talking to yourself. Recording a video on a Saturday. Writing up what you tried this week. Dropping a post that gets two reactions.
But someone is always listening. And sometimes, months later, you find out that what you shared changed how someone works, or how they think about a tool, or gave them the courage to try something new.
That’s enough. That’s the whole point.






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