End-of-year newsletters usually follow a familiar format. Some blurbs about big accomplishments, a handful of eye-popping stats, and a cheerful proclamation that even greater success is just around the corner. There’s nothing wrong with that; it’s the standard because it works! We wanted to try something a little different, though. Sometimes the slightly offbeat is more memorable than the perfectly optimized.
Congratulations on making it to the end of 2025. We’ve almost arrived at one of the loveliest times of the year: that beautiful week between Christmas and New Year’s when emails go unanswered and there’s not a Zoom meeting to be seen. Everyone can relax, take a deep breath, and quietly wonder if next year will be as weird as this one.
From what we can tell, the answer is probably “yes.” Most likely 2026 will be weird in some different ways, but the forces that defined the past year—the AIfication of everything, the Trump Administration’s crusade to reshape the world, the ultra-personalized emptiness of digital life—still seem to have a head of steam. When they’ll run out is anyone’s guess.
So here’s a prediction for the new year: people are going to start valuing a human touch a lot more.
People have read enough AI-written articles with the same grating voice and one-size-fits-all structure (bulleted lists are great for peppering your brain with data, but sometimes you just want to relax into a melodic paragraph). They’ve curated enough of their own feeds to realize that curating well—collecting tidbits that are satisfying and surprising and delightful—is harder than it seems. They’ve spent enough time in uncanny valleys to long for a place where everybody knows your name.
Conveying humanity isn’t a traditional goal for most organizations, at least not in the same sense as cultivating donors or driving sales. But in a social environment where trust is a scarce commodity, convincing people that you 1) are real flesh-and-blood humans who 2) aren’t just trying to milk them for profit is an enormously valuable differentiator.
Getting in on the ground floor of anything is rare, regardless of the context. But in 2026, savvy organizations have an opportunity to do exactly that—by positioning themselves as (genuinely) human-focused.
If that’s of interest to you, we hope you’ll get in touch. In the meantime, enjoy the holidays.
Take care,
Annmarie and Nick

Guessing about what the future holds is an amusing and low-risk pastime—most of the time, newspapers won’t write stories about you admitting you were wrong—but we still think it’s best to be realistic. We also believe it’s important to have a sense of humor about these things. Because have you seen the world out there? So, having established the parameters of “practical” and “fun,” here are the themes that (we hope) will define communications in 2026:
[The] forces that defined the past year—the AIfication of everything, the Trump Administration’s crusade to reshape the world, the ultra-personalized emptiness of digital life—still seem to have a head of steam. When they’ll run out is anyone’s guess. So here’s a prediction for the new year: people are going to start valuing a human touch a lot more.

If the 2010s were an era of diversity in media, the 2020s are one of consolidation. This presents obvious challenges when trying to get small or medium organizations mentioned in the news. Success depends on riding the waves that already exist, instead of trying to make new ones.
Press releases sometimes feel like relics from a simpler, more innocent time. Much like fax machines, most people are aware they continue to exist. What’s less clear: who actually uses these things in 2025? And for what purpose?

The ability to not sound like you were just lobotomized by a team of nonprofit execs with MBAs has become a way to stand out. It's “riskier” in a sense, because it’s easier for people to tell what you’re actually saying—and potentially criticize it. On the other hand, nobody’s listening to the jargon jockeys anymore.

When we founded this agency last year, we had a pretty straightforward idea of how we’d run our business: do good work with our own hands, communicate honestly, and treat people fairly. We thought this would be the simplest path to earn a decent living and contribute something to human society. After a year of this experiment, here’s what we’ve found...

Working with people you think are interesting is good for your own personal and career growth. If their ideas are good enough to work on for free, someone will eventually pay them for that, and you’ll have forged a professional relationship—or better, a friendship—with someone smart.

There’s nothing wrong with media outlets exploring new revenue streams, and newsrooms are always fluctuating in size. But outlets can only hollow out their core product so much before it collapses entirely, and a growing number of media organizations seem to be reaching that point now. Live events are not going to save them.
Comms agencies that are good at their work tend to be curious and resourceful. We can’t pretend to be ignorant about the people and products we’re telling the public to trust. In all but the rarest cases, the agency knows what it wants to know. Business is never as pure or idealistic as we might want it to be. It does have ethical boundaries, though, and these are especially important at inflection points like the one we’re in now.
We humans like to explore for exploring’s sake. We’re pleased when we find an unexpected beautiful thing, and we feel a sense of satisfaction when we “discover” something that’s not immediately obvious to the casual observer. People want to spend time in environments where these opportunities are available—which is something to consider when building (or updating) your website.
Nonprofits shouldn't have to beg for funding to provide vital services. But with federal funding suddenly scarce—and thousands of organizations scrambling to attract attention from the big donors that remain—a new kind of comms strategy is needed.

The platform doesn't drive traffic to your site. The ads don't convert. And these days most of the "engagement" comes from spam bots or virulent bigots. It's time to move on from Twitter—but to where?
Everybody loves talking about the importance of "storytelling" for building your organization's name recognition. And it really can work—but it requires more planning and effort than firing off the occasional blog post or Instagram post.

If your nonprofit or small business has a clear message to share about a concrete goal it wants to achieve, video can do that better than any other medium—if it's done right.

Today, even a glowing review in the New York Times doesn't move the needle that much. Getting people's attention takes a more creative approach. And it all hinges around owning the means of (content) production.

In the inaugural issue of A Better Way to Say That, we explore important questions like why does this newsletter exist? and why does PSE exist, for that matter? We also share a roundup of exciting new book launches, events, and job postings—along with perhaps the most effective fundraising email ever written. As far as business-y newsletters go, it's a fun read!


