When I chose to study Communication Sciences at UNAM, I didn't have a clear picture of what I would do professionally. I had initially leaned toward political science — I was interested in making an impact, in reducing inequality — though the idea of working within a political party didn't appeal to me much, so I wanted something more flexible. That's where communications came in. Advertising if I wanted the creative side, political communications if I wanted the social cause, and since the newspaper had been part of my daily routine since high school, having my own opinion column someday also seemed very attractive. What I didn't anticipate is that this breadth was also its trap.

The ambiguity of communications only became more evident during my degree, especially when trying to settle whether it's a science, a discipline, or something else entirely. The professional world already looked winding, but all in all, it seemed to have a logic. Grave mistake.

How many times have we heard it in organizations: it's a communications problem, we need more communication, communication is missing. Everything seems to be communications. But then — where does the communications professional fit?

The communications professional contributes to the launch of a product or an investment, but is not the one who defines it or drives the commercial strategy. Supports marketing in positioning and events, but is not marketing. Works to attract and retain talent, but is not HR. Supports sales in promoting products, but is not sales. And the list could go on. So — is everything communications, but nobody actually needs the communications person?

That uncertainty doesn't only weigh on the communications professional. More often than not, it comes from the leaders and colleagues around them who don't have clarity on what the role actually does. And so you live in that space — close to marketing, to HR, to sales, not dependent on them, collaborating with them, but in ambiguity.

On top of an already uncertain situation, there are the bad communicators — those who take advantage of those gaps to present themselves as experts, promise results, sell actions, and end up selling smoke. By the time they're found out, it's usually too late: the position is already damaged, and trust has to be rebuilt from scratch.

Because a good communicator is not the one who delivers a press release, or organizes an event — I would even say they're not simply the one who supports you through a crisis. A good communicator is someone capable of analyzing a situation and synthesizing it through language to align wills.

It's that alignment that makes something relevant to a company also relevant to the press, while still landing the right messages. It's getting different areas to understand they're working toward the same objective and that each of them is necessary. It's the ability to connect information, give it meaning, turn scattered arrows into an unbreakable force.

Because the communications professional is the one who, through language, brings wills together toward an objective. Not always to inspire — sometimes to soften a blow, to inform with precision. But the art is always the same: how to use communication so that wills move in the same direction. It's the reason we keep believing in politics, falling in love with Hollywood, and buying through advertising.

Their contribution is deeply intangible, and for that very reason difficult to get right. But when it works, you notice. And that is the difference between a professional who shows up and one who leaves a mark.