I’ve been scrolling through LinkedIn lately and noticed a trend that’s got me thinking. There’s been a wave of posts lamenting how companies are trying to hire one person to be an entire marketing department. “Social Media Manager” job descriptions that casually list video production, graphic design, copywriting, analytics, and strategy as “required skills.” And yes, I get the frustration—especially when the salary doesn’t match the expertise required.
But after a couple decades of being what I lovingly call a “creative hyphenate,” I’ve come to appreciate the unique value of being that versatile professional who can wear multiple hats. Not because I’m cheaper than hiring three specialists (trust me, I’m not), but because there’s genuine magic in the cross-pollination of skills.
When I first started in this industry, I was a radio advertising copywriter. The job description seemed straightforward enough, but my natural curiosity led me to expand my responsibilities to include podcasting, website content, social media, and video before YouTube was really that big. This wasn’t entirely new territory for me—I’d learned audio/video production in college and had already been teaching myself Photoshop and photography on the side. I’ve always been a bit of a dabbler at heart. Each new skill didn’t dilute my expertise—it enhanced it, creating unexpected connections between disciplines that would have remained separate in a more traditional career path.
There’s something powerful about understanding how a brand story translates across mediums. When I write copy, I’m already visualizing how it will look in a TV ad. When I’m editing a web video, I’m thinking about how segments might be repurposed for Instagram versus TikTok, and what graphic would look good for a cover photo. This integrated thinking isn’t something you get when siloed teams pass projects down an assembly line.
I remember working on a campaign where the photographer, copywriter, and social strategist were all different people who barely communicated. The resulting content felt disjointed — beautiful imagery paired with copy that missed the visual metaphor, scheduled at times that didn’t align with the audience’s habits. The next campaign, I handled all three aspects. Was it more work? Absolutely. But the coherence of vision created content that performed.
That’s not to say specialists aren’t valuable. I’m in awe of the motion graphics artist who can create things I could never dream of, or the SEO expert who understands algorithm changes at a molecular level. I collaborate with these specialists frequently, and they elevate what I do. But here’s the thing—I speak enough of their languages to know what’s possible, to ask the right questions, and to connect their specialized work to the bigger picture.
I think what frustrates me is the lingering stigma attached to versatility. “Jack of all trades, master of none” gets thrown around like an insult, but people often forget the rest of that proverb: “…but oftentimes better than master of one.” In a creative landscape that’s constantly shifting, adaptability is mastery.
I’m reminded of Wayne White, the subject of the documentary “Beauty is Embarrassing.” Here’s an artist who’s been a painter, puppeteer, set designer, animator, and wordsmith — shifting between illustrating for Pee-wee’s Playhouse, creating music videos for Peter Gabriel, and producing fine art that combines typography with thrift store landscapes. White never allowed himself to be pigeonholed by a single discipline. Instead, his creative identity emerges precisely from the interplay between these various skills and perspectives. His ability to cross-pollinate ideas from different fields is exactly what makes his work so distinctive and valuable.
The marketing professional who can pivot from writing compelling copy to designing a quick mockup to setting up a basic analytics dashboard isn’t necessarily less skilled—they’ve just distributed their “10,000 hours” differently. Like Wayne White, they’ve mastered the connections between disciplines rather than the deepest corners of one.
This versatility makes us invaluable in certain contexts. Startups love us. Agencies value us because we can see projects holistically. Even large corporations benefit from having a few “Swiss Army knife” creatives who can translate between departments and fill gaps when they appear.
Is there burnout risk? Absolutely. I’ve hit that wall more than once when trying to do everything myself. The key is recognizing which tasks truly benefit from your multidisciplinary perspective and which ones should be delegated to specialists. I’ve learned to say, “I understand enough about X to know this project needs someone who specializes in this.”
What I’m advocating isn’t for every marketer to become a generalist, nor for companies to expect one person to replace an entire department. Rather, I’m suggesting we recognize the unique value that comes from professionals who’ve developed expertise across connected disciplines.
In a world obsessed with hyper-specialization, there’s profound value in being the person who sees how all the pieces fit together. Who understands that a brand isn’t just its words, or its images, or its platform strategy, but the seamless integration of all these elements. Who can jump in when needed, guide specialists effectively, and ensure the creative vision remains cohesive across touchpoints.
So yes, I’m a jack of all trades. I write, film, design, strategize, and analyze. I wouldn’t have it any other way. My versatility isn’t a compromise—it’s my superpower. Wayne White put it perfectly in “Beauty is Embarrassing” when he said, “Do what you love, it’s going to lead to where you want to go.” His willingness to follow his creative instincts across multiple disciplines led to a richness in his work that wouldn’t exist had he confined himself to a single medium. Similarly, in a marketing ecosystem that’s increasingly fragmented, being the force that brings it all together isn’t just valuable—it’s essential.