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Who pays for the ideas you trust?
Keswick, Ontario might be Canada's unexpected capital of thought leadership. Amanda Cupido launched Let's Talk Thought Leadership right here, and our conversation has stayed with me. So this episode I'm going further: what actually shapes the ideas we call "thought leadership"? Money. Power. Influence. And whether the people broadcasting ideas ever listen back.
In this episode:
Why I pay for this podcast myself. I don't take sponsorship. Money shapes views in ways you don't always notice until later, and I'd rather not find out the hard way. I also won't take deals from AI companies, especially American ones. I don't know their relationships with government, and I'm not convinced the current US administration is acting in Canada's best interest.
Honey, bees and a blind spot. OpenAI flew about 30 creators to Wildflower Farms, a luxury Hudson Valley resort, for "OpenAI Summer Camp": farm-to-table dinners, beekeeping, the works. OpenAI says it was about teaching creators its tools and that it welcomes healthy debate. But the posts were all honey and bees. AI's environmental footprint never came up. And when the backlash hit, it landed on the creators, not the company that paid for the trip. Grace McCarrick pointed out that most of the people taking that heat were women. I don't agree with everything about how she handled it, but she had a point.
When academics become creators. Institutions bring their own hierarchies and politics. I look at Adam Grant: ahead of his new book Vibe, I revisit how he partnered with celebrities like Jennifer Garner to promote his last one. Was she paid? I'd assume so, and she should be. But it's never disclosed.
Broadcast isn't community. I've followed Adam's work for about eight years and learned a lot. In all that time, I couldn't get a real conversation going, until this week, when I commented that his book tour skips Canada. He replied that he loves Canada and hopes to come next year. I appreciated it. But it shouldn't take eight years. If you're the only one talking, is it really a community?
Softball questions. Actors are hosting more podcasts, and I'm seeing fewer trained journalists conducting interviews. What happens to ideas when nobody asks the hard questions?
Where my work lands. I learned I'm ranking on a Goodpods chart for investigative journalism, and on a writing chart too. Charts aren't the point. What matters is that the questions I ask are being read at that level, even by an algorithm, when futurism doesn't fit neatly into any one box.
Human thinking in an AI world. My transcripts get scraped to train AI. I can't stop that. So I focus on putting out the best human thinking I can, and I hope the real people who find it notice and give credit.
George Michael as a fixed point. His arc is complete. I know what he stood for, and that won't change. Living public figures keep shifting their partnerships, which makes me wonder: is there a cultural divide between American and Canadian podcasting?
The big idea: Thought leadership shapes the future. The people who absorb your ideas go on to decide how they behave, how they run their companies, and which social norms they support. What you consume shapes who you become, and that includes the thought leaders you follow.
One small ask: I rarely hear from listeners, and I'll never stop asking. If a review or a question feels like too much, just hit subscribe on whatever app you use. Subscriptions move the charts. Sharing, saving and downloading help too.
Coming up: I'm taking the Canada question further with Jan Ditchfield, founder of The Show, a Canadian podcast business mastermind for women entrepreneurs. (Full disclosure: I'm a member.) Subscribe so you don't miss it.
Mentioned in this episode:
Hope + Possibilities: Trust, Leadership + Strategic Foresight. A self-funded Canadian podcast.
Meta description: Who pays for the ideas you trust? Canadian futurist Nola Simon on sponsorship, OpenAI's influencer retreat, celebrity podcasts and AI, and why thought leadership shapes the future.
In this solo episode, I look at what strategic foresight really means for your career when nobody can predict what's coming: longevity, retirement, caregiving, loneliness, and why the human skills will matter more than technical ones as AI changes work.
I maintain that career development is a form of futurism. How do you make decisions when you don't know what the future holds?
Margaret Heffernan has a line I keep coming back to: in an age of uncertainty, planning becomes harder than ever, if not actually impossible, so flexibility, adaptability and the imagination to consider what could happen become vital skills.
When things are stable, you can set a goal, watch the trends, steer toward it and land pretty close. Today, with AI and geopolitical tension, nobody can predict with any certainty how things will go. You still can't stop living or making choices. The question is what you have in place that lets you move forward and still pivot as things become clearer.
So I get personal. Keith and I just turned 55. My dad is 94. My mom retired at 65 and died of dementia at 87. Longevity is on my side and my finances aren't ready for an early exit, so I expect to keep working into my mid-70s, maybe my early 80s, and I need income streams that could carry me to 100. That's why I've been reading Lynda Gratton's new book, Living the 100-Year Life.
I also talk about:
- Legacy. My mom took care of her family, and she had enough. I want work with resonance and impact for the next 40-plus years.
- The nurture threads. I'm an only child with very little extended family, and my kids have told me they may not have kids. As a sole proprietor, I have to build friendship and belonging on purpose. Who witnesses me? Who needs what I know?
- The retirement perception gap. The Old Grey Thinker, a former ship captain who writes on Substack, explores the distance between how retirement is sold and how it's lived, including what happens to your knowledge once "retired" replaces your job title.
- Longevity rewrites the script. My husband's mom died at 54, when we were 34 and our oldest daughter was one. I was in the sandwich generation in my early 40s, raising young kids while caring for parents and handling estates. My dad worked into his 70s and only stopped because my mom got sick.
- Out of sync and lonely. I was an older mom at 32, with nothing much in common with the mommy groups near me. I found my support online through Erica Ehm's YummyMummyClub. In Canada, we measure distance in hours.
- Choose Your Own Adventure as a practice. What shaped you, what do you need right now, what has to be true to get where you want to go, and are you testing the alternatives?
And the skills that matter most? Flexibility, mental agility, imagination, storytelling and knowing yourself. People call these soft skills, and they're anything but. Pure technical knowledge is what's most at risk from AI.
What practices keep you imagining what's possible?
MENTIONED IN THIS EPISODE
- Margaret Heffernan, On the Level (Substack): https://heffernanm.substack.com/ - Lynda Gratton, Living the 100-Year Life (September 2026): https://www.livingthe100yearlife.com/ - The Old Grey Thinker (Substack): https://substack.com/@theoldgreythinker - Erica Ehm (YummyMummyClub): https://www.ericaehm.com/
A SMALL EXPERIMENT
I'm testing which listener actions actually move podcast charts. The simplest one is to subscribe, wherever you listen: Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Goodpods. ```
My last episode was about giving advice. This one is about the other side: how we receive it.
I start with the type of advice. There's the advice you go looking for and the advice that shows up uninvited. Then there's the question of who you actually trust, and how you filter what's useful from what isn't.
Advice doesn't have to come from someone who knows you. Mentorship is usually personal: parents, other adults in your life, coworkers, industry experts, even someone you're only loosely connected to. It's interactive and shaped around you. There's also thought leadership, where someone shares their expertise through books, TED Talks or videos without ever knowing you. That's a parasocial relationship, and it raises its own questions. How do you decide who gets your attention? And what happens when that person changes?
I've lived this. When I first hired my coach, her focus was career advice, resumes and storytelling. Then she moved into meditation, and later went back to work full-time in leadership development. Adapting as she adapted was a real shift for me. Honestly, it turned out to be a gift, because it made me look at why her change mattered to my own story.
We see the same thing with musicians and actors. When they move in a new direction, fans want more of the same. I'm seeing it in thought leadership too. Someone else's growth can threaten the story we've built about how they're useful to us. Stepping back to look at why is useful identity work, and I don't hear many people talk about it.
I also talk about:
Power and influence matter in how you use them, and just as much in how you let others influence your choices. That's the part of receiving advice I don't think we talk about enough.
Resources
Share your story Has someone influenced you, or failed to? I'd love to hear the details. Podcasts aren't usually interactive, but I never stop trying. You can reach me by:
A Leadership Living Lab: The Future of Advice and Mentorship | Episode 1
How do I advise my kid?
It's one of the questions futurists get asked most. What should they study? What skills will be in demand by the time they graduate? Honestly, it's the most approachable version of futurism there is, because almost everyone ends up giving this kind of advice. Parents do. So do aunts and uncles, godparents, neighbours, and every leader who has someone show up asking for their perspective.
This episode launches a new Living Lab series about how we give advice when nobody knows the future.
I start with my daughter. She spent years preparing for a science degree, including a lot more math than she was ever happy with. Then we toured the campuses, and she hated every tour. Her plan said science, but her body was telling a different story. She let the plan go, took a gap year, and ended up studying social work, with art kept as something just for her.
That's the pattern I want to dig into: we prepare for an imagined future, and then the reality of living it reshapes the plan. It happened to me too. I took math, minored in history, and ended up in financial services account management, working with American customers. Not exactly a straight line, right?
In this episode:
Three questions to ask before you give the advice:
Bring it to the Living Lab. Send me your questions, what you've tried, or your own advice at [email protected]. You can also leave a review with your question in it. I may feature it in a future episode.
Want to see what a Living Lab looks like? I started investigating AI on this podcast back in 2021, and those episodes became an accidental Living Lab. You'll find them at nolasimon.com/podcast.
What advice have you been asked for lately, and how much of it is still relevant?
I'm looking at the current breakdown in the Canada–U.S. relationship — tariffs, trust, and everything in between — through the lens of my own career, and what it means for Canadian leadership at a moment of real convergence between politics, economics, and the future of work. For 16.5 years I worked for the American division of a Canadian company, hired under the premise that I could "pass" as American, complete with a Buffalo mailing address and rehearsed small talk about Buffalo traffic and snow. I unpack why I started trying to move out of that role in 2016, what the return of medical-bankruptcy calls after the rollback of Obamacare had to do with it, and why translating "American experience" back into the Canadian job market turned out to be far harder than I expected — even though I'd never actually left the country. From there, I widen the lens to what Canada's growing independence from the U.S. means for how we tell our own leadership stories, what a Canadian podcasting summit taught me about self-trust and sovereignty, and why I think the trending shift ahead calls for foresight and reinvention over stability — with or without AI's help.
In This Episode:
Notable Quote:
"I'm full of cake and hope." — Nigella Lawson
(I'm borrowing this line from the Great British Bake Off as the spirit I want for this conversation — hopeful, positive, full of possibility.)
Mentioned in This Episode:
Connect with Me: 🎙️ Hope + Possibilities: Trust, Leadership + Strategic Foresight 🌐 nolasimon.com
Make It So is my new eight-week seminar, and this episode is the full walkthrough — what it is, who it's for, and why I built it around practice instead of prediction.
The name comes from Jean-Luc Picard: you're telling me you want to do something, so do it. And there's research behind that instinct. Herminia Ibarra at London Business School has shown that identity shifts when you apply what you're learning — you can think about something extensively, but real learning starts when you make it real. Leadership programs hand you a framework. This is a practice, and preparation starts with examining what you're already assuming to be true. That's my Assumption-Ground Audit: it doesn't start with strategy, it starts a layer back — what are we treating as settled that we haven't even looked at?
Everyone has a history, a present, and a future, which means futurism doesn't require a crystal ball. It's woven into your life already — how you respond, how you plan, how you envision what's ahead. And there's no one future. There's futures.
For decades, Canada operated on the assumption that the US was its biggest trading partner and a great neighbour. This summer, that's not proving reliable. Tariffs may be temporary. Repairs may not be. Whatever your version of that assumption is — in your work, your business, your family — you can't build for the future until you've looked at what you're assuming will hold.
In this episode:
These skills are transferable — they'll apply to your work, your parenting, your relationships. It's not a straight line; it's learning to work with the currents, the waves, the disruptions, and get closer to where you want to be. More of what you want, less of what you don't. That's the hope and possibilities in the future of work.
The details:
Enroll at nolasimon.com/make-it-so
The future isn't predicted. It's practiced.
A reader told me my AI-assisted essay didn't sound like me anymore. That critique kicked off a week where reputation and AI collided in public three times: Substack's new Pangram "human-detection" scan, LinkedIn's AI-slop report button, and the backlash over an influencer's OpenAI brand trip. Each one exposes the terms platforms are quietly setting for anyone with a public body of work. This episode is me working out how to stay visible without giving up my own ground.
Pillars: Trust · Visibility · Identity · Communication
What's covered
A critique that stuck (00:00–03:00) A reader told me my AI-assisted essay had lost my voice — that it sounded more like Claude than like me. I disagreed. But the position got harder to defend once I separated two questions: can I write, and why am I experimenting at all.
Where AI actually fits my work (03:00–04:00) Useful for SEO, AEO, and discoverability. The trainer material — takeaways, reflection questions, anything designed to teach rather than model — is mine to write. That part was never up for experiment.
Substack + Pangram (03:52–05:41) Substack now scans posts and rates them human, AI-assisted, or AI-written. My read: unreliable like every detector, and easy to game, since anything under 100 words, audio, video, or paywalled content can't be scanned at all. So who benefits? Substack gets a PR win. Pangram gets a funding-round talking point. Writers get scanned. My response: I'm moving my experimentation behind the paywall.
LinkedIn's AI-slop button (05:57–07:12) No test, no proof, just crowd-sourced suspicion anyone can act on. Any anonymous reporting system carries the same abuse potential, and we already know where that lands: ageism, misogyny, racism.
Thought leader vs. influencer, and the OpenAI brand trip (07:12–10:54) A creator I follow — she wouldn't call herself an influencer, but she functions as one — took an unpaid OpenAI brand trip and posted about it while running a bath. The comments tore her apart over data-center water use. Her defense was "I didn't know this would be controversial." That's a research failure, and for someone whose credibility rests on thinking things through, it's a costly one.
Trust, reputation, and PR strategy (10:54–12:27) Getting torn apart in the comments isn't the answer either. I think we're capable of civil disagreement on both sides. But if you're a public persona doing brand deals, you need a real strategy: know your stuff, own it, explain it, and make sure the deal's values match yours.
Platform incentives (12:34–15:00) LinkedIn's new multi-collaborator post feature runs on the same engagement logic under a friendlier name. More talking helps the platform at least as much as it helps you. And this goes past creators — if you're an employee, your public presence is also your resume.
Reflection questions
A note on process: these show notes are pulled from my own transcript, not generated from a prompt. AI did the structuring and compression; the words are mine. Same distinction I draw in the episode: extraction and discoverability work, not voice work.
It's not safe to be experimental for free anymore. I'll still be on LinkedIn, and the longer essays will still land on Substack — but the experiments are moving behind the paywall. If you want to watch the process, that's where it lives now.
If knowledge I gave a company five, ten, or twenty years ago is still generating value for them, why does the payroll relationship get to end while the value extraction doesn't?
That's the question driving this episode. I read and respond to an excerpt from a LinkedIn post by a former colleague about AI systems that capture and index employee knowledge — the recordings, conversations, and stories that make expertise valuable — so all of it stays discoverable inside a company long after the person who generated it has left. Long-term extraction, in other words.
My issue isn't with the AI capability itself. It's with the assumption sitting underneath the post: that a company can capture, index, and reuse a person's stories, judgment, and point of view indefinitely, without renegotiating consent, ownership, or compensation as the relationship changes.
I trace it through consent, accountability, discoverability infrastructure, reputation risk, and the crux of it for me: compensation.
Key themesUse these for journaling, discussion, or a follow-up episode:
The post calls it preserving wisdom. I'm asking who owns that wisdom once the relationship ends, and why consent and compensation don't get renegotiated along the way.
This is an Assumption-Ground AuditThis whole episode is the Assumption-Ground Audit in action, pointed at a LinkedIn post instead of a policy. The AGA is the method I use to surface the assumption sitting underneath a decision before it calcifies into precedent. The question is never whether the technology is good or bad. The question is what everyone is treating as already-settled that hasn't actually been agreed to.
Here, the unexamined assumption is the Hotel California Clause itself: that indefinite capture and reuse of an employee's knowledge is simply part of the deal, and that consent, attribution, and compensation don't need renegotiating just because the mechanism changed from "someone remembers what you said" to "a system indexes it forever." That's the kind of assumption the AGA is built to catch before you build infrastructure, policy, or a vendor relationship on top of it.
If you're building AI systems that touch employee knowledge, client data, or institutional memory, those assumptions are hardening into your roadmap right now, whether anyone has examined them or not. If you want to know what they are before they're impossible to walk back, let's have a conversation.
Work with me on an Assumption-Ground Audit →
In this episode, I dive into the phenomenon of Jessie Jean's YAP Challenge—a 30‑day video‑creation program that has taken the creator economy by storm. Her first cohort brought in $1.2M, and the second crossed $6M, all at a price point of $297. I'm not interested in the hype or the mechanics of her launch; I'm interested in the trust behind it.
Why This Challenge Captured My AttentionI explore why so many people felt comfortable joining a program like this, especially at a moment when online courses are supposedly "dead." As I say in the episode: "What is it about her specifically that people trusted? And I'd argue… it's probably not necessarily her, but how it made them feel."
Jessie didn't come out of nowhere—she had:
400K+ followers
12 years of online experience
Funnel experts and coaches supporting her
A beta tester who hit 1M+ views, proving the method worked
But the real magic wasn't her credibility alone. It was the network effects she created by having participants post their homework publicly. People didn't just trust Jessie—they trusted the community.
Why This Matters in a Corporate ContextI connect the dots between the YAP Challenge and the future of employee-led communication inside organizations.
Employees are more trusted than executives. Their authentic, unscripted presence online is a powerful asset for:
Employer brand
Recruitment
Reputation
Internal trust
Cross-team visibility
I share my own experience of building a personal brand inside a corporation and how, even years after leaving, people reached out because they trusted me.
This challenge model could easily be adapted inside companies:
Run it publicly on LinkedIn
Run it privately on Slack
Integrate it into employee advocacy programs
Use it to build confidence, presence, and thought leadership
As I say in the episode: "This type of challenge… gives them something that they feel they can control."
Why Video Skills Matter Right NowVideo is the antidote to AI slop. It captures:
Voice
Presence
Gestures
Authenticity
Point of view
It's proof of humanity in a moment when people are craving it.
What I'm Paying Attention ToI'm not participating in the YAP Challenge myself, but I'm deeply interested in:
The systems behind its success
The trust dynamics
The transferable skills
The implications for the future of work
How organizations could use similar models to build capability and confidence
I close the episode by asking:
Are you planning to join the YAP Challenge?
What skills do you see emerging from participants?
What parts of the model do you admire—or question?
How could your organization benefit from something similar?
How this creator turned yapping on camera into a 4,000-customer, $1.2 million launch
What Is an Assumption-Ground Audit? Introducing Make It So | Hope + Possibilities
Episode description The assumption ground audit is a structured practice for surfacing the beliefs, values, and past experiences that silently shape your decisions — at work and in life. In this episode, Nola Simon introduces Make It So, an 8-week cohort built around everyday futurism and the assumption ground audit as a leadership practice.
What is an assumption-ground audit?
An assumption-ground audit is a reflective practice that asks: what decisions are you making based on what you currently believe to be true? Your assumptions aren't random — they're built from your values, your experiences, and the stories you've told yourself over time. The audit makes those visible so you can work with them intentionally, rather than having them work on you unconsciously.
It's the foundation of everyday futurism: the idea that the future isn't built in grand gestures, but in the small, compounding decisions you make daily.
About this episode
In this episode, Nola introduces Make It So: an 8-week cohort launching June 1st, designed for people who understand that operating well inside ambiguity is the leadership skill. Make It So pairs everyday futurism with the assumption ground audit to help you integrate future-focused thinking into the way you already work and lead — not as a forecasting exercise, but as a daily practice.
What's covered:
Frequently asked questions
What is everyday futurism? Everyday futurism is the practice of making small, intentional decisions that accumulate into the future you want — for yourself, your work, and the organizations you lead. It's not about prediction. It's about integrated thinking.
What is the Make It So cohort? Make It So is an 8-week, mostly asynchronous cohort built around everyday futurism and the assumption ground audit. It's designed for leaders and implementers who want to develop futurism as a core leadership practice. Learn more and register here.
Who is Make It So for? It's for people who already understand that ambiguity is normal, change is constant, and that how you think — not just what you do — is what determines how well you lead through it.
How is this different from other futurism programs? Most futurism content centers the expert. Make It So centers you — your assumptions, your noticing practices, your decision-making patterns. The goal is a practice you can sustain, not a framework you borrow.
Make It So
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