I’ve never liked the term “thought leadership”. In fact, I hate it. My first run-in with it was back in 2010, when I was working for David Smith and Mark Locke in Fujitsu UK and Ireland’s Office of the CTO. Even then, we were pretty clear: you don’t get to call yourself a thought leader. That label is earned. Other people decide it for you, usually long after you’ve stopped trying to chase it.

Fast-forward to today, and “thought leadership” is still something marketing teams everywhere love to talk about. It’s also something I recognise as part of my job in the Node4 OCTO. But my unease with the term has never really gone away.

So when I came across some LinkedIn Learning training on “becoming a better thought leader” (and yes, even typing that makes my stomach turn), I braced myself. And then something interesting happened.

I was introduced to the idea of a thought reader.

A different take

The course explained it like this…

A thought leader is an expert. The go-to person. The one with the depth, the scars, the experience, the opinions. All fine. We know that world.

But a thought reader is different. A thought reader is someone who pays attention to the world around them.

Someone who tracks what’s happening in the market, in politics, in technology, in society. Someone who can read the room, not just the textbook. Someone who can bring context rather than just content.

Not an ivory-tower specialist. Not a voice shouting into the void. But someone grounded in what’s actually going on.

It’s the person who joins the dots and says: “I see what’s happening here, and here’s what it might mean for you.”

And that resonated

Because unlike thought leadership, I think thought readership can be claimed. You can choose to be someone who stays curious, who pays attention, who reads widely and listens well.

And if I’m honest, that feels a lot closer to where I sit.

A definition worth noting

Along the way, I also stumbled across a piece from the University of Exeter Business School that tries to rescue the term “thought leadership” by giving it a clearer, more grounded definition. They describe it as:

“Knowledge from a trusted, eminent and authoritative source that is actionable and provides valuable solutions for stakeholders.”

And to be fair, that feels right. It talks about trust, action and value. It suggests the label is something you earn, not something you declare.

What I can claim

What I can claim, though, is that I spend a lot of time trying to understand what’s going on out there. Reading widely. Noticing patterns. Making connections. Understanding context so I can explain things in a way that’s useful.

Less “sage on a stage”, and more “person who’s done the research so you don’t have to”.

And that feels much more like a thought reader than a thought leader.

I still won’t claim to be a thought leader — that’s for others to decide.

But, from today, I might, occasionally, claim to be a thought reader.

And that feels much more honest.