What is in a job title?

Me and a friend-colleague have been talking about what we call ourselves. Before you imagine some weird professional therapy session where we unpack all our deepest insecurities, it’s not that. It came about because we both wrestle with how to describe what we do in a way that’s accurate, without instantly boxing ourselves into something we’re not… we were talking about what is in a job title.

So, I’m just going to say it. Brace yourself. You know the word I’m talking about. That’s right, I’m dropping the big fat C-bomb.

CONSULTANT.

I feel grubby even writing it. Why does it make me feel so uncomfortable?

In 15 years of being a Gun for Hire, I’ve never once called myself a consultant. In fact, I correct people when they use the word (usually while pulling a horrified, hunched-shoulder squinty face that’s deeply unflattering). It’s not just a preference.

To me, “consultant” conjures up someone who drifts in, tells you everything you’re doing wrong, floats out again trailing the scent of smugness, and then sends an invoice the size of a small nation’s GDP. Consultants don’t do things. They say things. And often leave you feeling demotivated at your failings and cast adrift with no clear idea of where to start the process of change.

Yes, I have baggage. I know plenty of people who do call themselves consultants who are hands-on, helpful, and genuinely embedded in problem-solving. But still, the word sticks in my throat.

So here’s ‘what is in a job title’ – I will explain – titles matter.

Titles aren’t just labels. They shape how we’re perceived. They influence how people respond to us, what they assume we can or won’t do. And in some organisations, titles are more than a bit of admin, they’re bargaining chips, ways to draw lines, form cliques, or establish invisible hierarchies.

That matters. It matters for collaboration, for how ideas get heard (or not), and for who gets taken seriously. It’s not just semantics. The wrong title can close doors before you’ve even had a chance to knock. The right one? It can open them wide.

So where does that leave me and friend-colleague? In our eyes, everyone has value, and honestly, we often don’t even know what someone’s title is. And if we don’t know it, we can’t react to it. I still don’t know what I’ll call myself. I’ll probably just stick with the tried and tested: “I’m Julie.” Or “Jules,” if you prefer. Because at the end of the day, just like the people I meet along the way, I’m a person, not a title.