The Cost of Accountability

Basically, paid coaching is you paying someone to hold you accountable to your goals.
That’s it.

You don’t need to spend $10,000 for that.
More information doesn’t always mean more knowledge. Sometimes it just means more noise.

Most of these business models thrive on FOMO and frustration. They prey on that restless feeling that you’re not doing enough, even when you are.

And to be fair, I’ve been on the other side of this. I’ve coached people. I’ve helped artists and engineers build systems, do outreach, organize finances, and clarify their branding.
But I charge for my time spent. It’s roughly what I’d charge for production or engineering work. Believe me, it is definitely work and it takes time.

There’s nothing wrong with being compensated for your expertise. The problem is when “coaching” becomes a machine that scales faster than the skill it’s built on.

I understand the argument for value-based pricing, I’ve read the same books. The idea that your price should reflect your experience and the results you can create, not just the “market rate.” That logic holds up when you’re truly delivering transformation.

But too many coaches use that principle as a shield by charging luxury prices for untested systems, or selling vague motivation instead of measurable progress.
There’s a difference between charging for the value you create and charging for the value you promise.

I’m not posting this to sell anything. I’m saying it because it’s painfully obvious when someone has gone through one of those cookie-cutter programs. The websites all look the same. The language all sounds the same. Even the “personal brands” blur together.

These programs tell you to water down your message:
No personal beliefs.
No family photos.
Nothing “polarizing.”
Nothing that makes you human.

They teach you to strip away everything that makes you you, all in the name of scalability. But when you remove the texture, the quirks, and the contradictions that make your work interesting, you also remove its soul.

A few weeks ago, I watched a panel of coaches talk about maintaining a “unified message” that never deviates from your number one goal: signing clients.
That’s the entire game: cast the widest possible net to maximize income.

But income isn’t the only measure of success.
Serving your community matters.
Contributing something real matters.

Maybe my perspective is naïve. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m doing harm by saying this out loud.
But that’s not how I came up.

My examples were people who worked in this industry before it was branded, before “content strategy” became part of making a record. They cared about sound, taste, and truth — not scaling or positioning. They built careers by creating opportunities for others, the same way others once created opportunities for them.

That’s who I learned from.
That’s who I’m still trying to honor when I speak up.