“Tell a story” is the most repeated—and least understood—advice in marketing.
It flatters the creative instinct, appeals to intuition, and sounds like permission to keep things loose and expressive, but without structure, even the most inspired voices lose momentum. Most of what passes for "storytelling strategy" is just glorified pep talks, not practical frameworks.
Sure, do this long enough and you'll hear about "The Hero's Journey" or "The Three Act Structure," but as someone who has obsessed over story— and more specifically Narrative Design—for 30 out of 40 years, I'll tell you, 95% of it is what I like to call "Tourist Knowledge".
It's why a lot of B2B marketing sounds the same.
When a boss or a client says, "we need a strong POV," even though they can recognize it, nobody knows how to design a voice that represents hundreds or thousands of people, so that point of view is debated by committee and beaten to a paste of undifferentiated slop.
Ultimately, it falls on an individual creator, dealing with stakeholders who don't "get content" and watch, as Anonymous Elephants and Giraffes kill all of their darlings and strip it of everything that made it feel special.
Over time, the creator forces a smile as they watch their love of the work wither and die. But hey, in this economy, at least you have a job.
The real tragedy isn't that most content lacks story.
It's that most people don't know the language of story—even though you experience it every night when you fire up Netflix to watch the newest season "Black Mirror" or "You".
Most creators rely on intuition, and honestly, that’s not a bad place to start. It means you’re in touch with rhythm, emotion, and voice. But intuition alone isn’t a system. It doesn’t scale, it can’t be taught, and it leaves you defenseless when things stop working. Without the narrative principles that govern all of storytelling, intuition eventually hits a wall.This perpetuates the myth that good creative is divine talent.
Freestyling feels incredible—when it works. The energy, the voice, the spark of something raw and original. But ride it too long without structure, and eventually, you hit a wall. The well runs dry. It's impossible to skill up in very specific areas and you get bored. Whatever raw talent you have produces diminishing returns.
Sure, you may get the odd nugget from a recycled headline templates carousel, but mostly it's the usual mind-numbing social media fodder.
The real tragedy is that without narrative design principles we trap ourselves in a cycle of creative intuition with no creative language—and when we can’t name what’s working or why, we can’t defend it, replicate it, or improve it.
It’s the difference between saying, “This part feels flat,” and saying, “This moment lacks a turn—there’s no reversal, no shift in stakes, no new emotional beat.”
And it’s about teaching people how to give meaningful feedback.
The difference between a stakeholder asking, “Can you make this sound more confident?” and saying, “The reader’s agency disappears here—what choices can we give them?”
Narrative design gives you precision.
Precision leads to alignment.
And alignment creates momentum—for the story, for the team, for the business.
So what does that actually look like in practice?
Let’s break it down.
Principle #1: Identifying your Competing Values
At the atomic level of every good story is a set of Competing Values.
This isn't "good vs evil" or "right vs wrong"
It's "truth vs truth"
It's that tension between those Competing Values that become the spine where every choice you make as a writer is either for or against either value until eventually one wins out revealing the overall message of the story
Think:
- Fate vs Free-Will
- Freedom vs security
- Order vs Chaos
When put into action, Competing Values become the beating heart of the story.
As soon as it looks like Order will win, Chaos throws something at it. Then Order snaps back. Then Chaos. Then Order again. You get the idea.
That push-pull is what gives the story momentum. The tension builds not just because one side is right—but because neither side is ready to lose.
That’s dynamic charge: the energy that shifts as each value gains ground, retreats, and regroups. Every scene turns the dial. Every moment tips the scale. And when it’s working, you feel it—physically. Your brain lights up. Your body leans forward. You’re saying, “just one more…” even though it’s midnight.
When done poorly, the energy flatlines. Things drag. Feel rushed. Or feel like they belong in a different story entirely.
If a scene, line, or moment isn’t working, it’s probably because it’s not charged. It doesn’t serve one value or resist the other. Cut it.
Because every line is part of the argument, and every argument is a war between truths.
Now, it's tempting to think that just because the competing values are the same, the story will be the same, but that's so far from the truth.
Topic, setting, genre, and message are all different skins for the same set of competing values.
Consider the following movies:
The Favourite (2018) - Costume Drama
- Order: Royal hierarchy, etiquette, court diplomacy.
- Chaos: Manipulation, sexual power plays, emotional volatility.
- Outcome: Chaos subverts traditional power structures—but order reasserts itself through cold, institutional cruelty.
Mad Max: Fury Road (2015) - Action Blockbuster
- Order: Immortan Joe’s militarized patriarchy, rigid control of water, women, and warboys.
- Chaos: Furiosa’s rebellion, liberation, feminine rage, ecological anarchy.
- Outcome: Chaos destroys toxic order—only to create space for a new, more just version of order.
Encanto (2021) - Family Musical
- Order: Family expectations, magical hierarchy, duty.
- Chaos: Emotional repression, personal identity, suppressed trauma.
- Outcome: Too much order creates chaos in the family—but eventually leads to a new definition of what it means to be special.
The way writers express each value—through character, setting, and structure—is what makes every story unique.
But it doesn't stop there.
Look more closely and you'll see that in different stories one value will win out over the other.
Sticking with the Order vs Chaos theme: The Dark Knight vs Fight Club
The Dark Knight (2008) — Order Wins
Order: Law, systems, institutions, moral codes.
Chaos: Anarchy, randomness, emotional manipulation, Joker's belief that people are animals beneath their rules.
- Philosophical Conflict: (we'll talk about this more another time)Can society maintain its moral compass when pushed to the brink, or will chaos reveal the fragility of our values?
- Climax: The ferry prisoners and civilians don’t blow each other up—proving the Joker wrong. Batman chooses to preserve Harvey Dent’s reputation (the White Knight), even at personal cost, to uphold hope in the idea of institutional goodness.
- Conclusion: Order wins—but just barely. Batman becomes the scapegoat to preserve social belief in good. The system is cracked, but not broken.
Fight Club (1999) — Chaos Wins
Competing Values:
Order: Corporate structure, consumerism, routines, the illusion of control.
Chaos: Destruction, liberation through violence, anti-structure, primal identity.
- Philosophical Conflict: Does meaning come from structure and safety—or is true freedom only found by burning the structure down?
- Climax: The Narrator tries to kill his chaotic alter ego (Tyler Durden), but Project Mayhem still succeeds. Credit buildings collapse. The old world dies.
- Conclusion: Chaos wins. Even though the Narrator reclaims his own mind, the system itself is already crumbling. The message: the old order was hollow, and breaking it was necessary—however disturbing the cost.
Once you know the values you're dealing with, you stop writing about something and start writing for something. Every beat becomes a choice between truths. And that’s what gives your story substance.
Here’s where most marketers miss the mark: the same principles apply to B2B content. Because every piece of content—no matter how tactical—is a story about values.
How this applies to content marketing
Narrative design isn’t just for movies.
Every content asset—yes, even the 4,000th thinkpiece on “Digital Transformation” or “The Future of Work”—lives or dies based on the values it chooses to amplify or ignore.
But most B2B content tries to split the difference. No sharp edge. No real point of view. Just vibe-neutral, consensus-friendly sludge. To be fair—there’s comfort in consensus. Playing it safe feels like alignment… until it numbs the story to death.
Let’s take a topic that’s been dragged through every playbook: Thought Leadership.
Everyone wants it. Nobody agrees on what it actually means. And most of the content that claims the title is just sanitized expertise in a LinkedIn-scented bottle.
So let’s start with the tension.
The Topic: Thought Leadership
At its core, this topic pulls between two competing values:
- Order: Expertise, rigor, consistency, established credibility.
- Chaos: Bold takes, personal voice, emotional risk, originality.
Neither is wrong. But your audience cares more about one than the other—so your narrative should too.
Not by eliminating the opposing value, but by holding the tension just long enough to make the story compelling.
Here's how we would open an article on Thought Leadership two different ways.
Version A: Favoring Order
Thought leadership isn’t about saying something new—it’s about saying something true, clearly and consistently, over time. The best thought leaders aren’t chasing trends. They’re building frameworks that outlast them. So how do you design content that earns trust—without sacrificing originality?
Interpretation: This speaks to brand marketers, CMOs, and regulated industries where trust > novelty.
Order is the leading value, but the chaos of originality still hums underneath.
Version B: Favoring Chaos
Everyone’s an expert. Everyone has a framework. Everyone’s playing it safe. Real thought leadership doesn’t start with polish—it starts with a point of view you’re a little afraid to say out loud. But what happens when your boldest idea threatens your safest relationships?
Interpretation: This is for founders, iconoclasts, challengers—people who want to stand apart, not just stand out.
Chaos is the lead value, but Order’s gravity still pulls in the background.
The Practical Takeaway
You’re not really writing to “educate the market.”
You’re writing to move someone—to attract the right customer and repel the wrong one—and that means making intentional decisions to choose a value they’re willing to fight for.
When you:
- Define the conflict,
- Choose the lead value,
- But keep the other in the room...
...you create tension.
And tension drives narrative.
And narrative drives sales.
If this made something click, good.
Because this? This is just the tip of the iceberg.
We’re putting the final touches on something new at The Content Studio: The Narrative Design Toolbox—20 core principles, short videos, real examples, and hands-on exercises for creators and strategists who want to stop guessing and start designing stories that move.
It’s tactical, immediately usable, and built for momentum.
But it’s only one layer.
If you want to understand the science, philosophy, and psychology of category-defining content programs—that’s what Content Theory is for.
One is the toolkit. The other is the blueprint.
And soon, you'll have both.
Get on the waitlist for The Narrative Design Toolbox here.
Tommy Walker | The Content Studio
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