When I moved to a house on Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado Springs over seven years ago, I learned a lot. I learned to bring in the trash can right away after the trash is picked up, or we’ll have a bear problem. I learned that there is no such thing as a “deer proof” plant, and that racoons steal the oddest things (I once found a ceramic gnome perched on a boulder in the back part of my yard). And I learned that fire is a year-round threat.

I also learned that many of the native trees here are fire resistant — including what most people call “scrub oaks.”

Southern Colorado scrub oaks are actually Gambel oaks, and they are one of nature’s most miraculous creations. They can grow in almost any form — from a low shrub to a big bush to a tall tree. They hold the soil on our unstable hillsides, and can withstand the 90-mile-an-hour chinook winds that sometimes barrel down the mountains. And they are fire resistant, meaning they (mostly) don’t fuel wildfires.

They are one of THE BEST trees to have on your property here in the urban-wildland interface.

But do you know what a lot of people do when they buy homes here?

They raze the “scrub oaks” and plant non-native trees.

Trees that use more water, don’t grow roots deep enough, and act as tinder in a wildfire.

They don’t see the deeper value of what’s already here.

When we get a new neighbor, and they begin talking about what they want to do with their landscaping, I try to work it into conversation how important native trees are for the safety of our neighborhood (not to mention the natural balance of our local ecosystem). I try not to lecture, but yes, I’m that annoying environmentalist next door.

Lately, I feel like I’ve been taking on that same role in content marketing.

Marketers get so excited about the hot new thing (ahem, TikTok and AI-generated podcasts), but in order to clear the space for it in their budget, they’re razing the scrub oaks.

They’re letting their blog go fallow.

They’re not publishing premium content (i.e., the content people download, like white papers, guides and e-books).

They’re pausing their email marketing.

And for a while, the marketing landscape looks pretty.

Eventually, though, a lightning strike sets off a fire. Maybe it’s a painful industry shift — or maybe it’s a good lightning strike, like a video goes viral.

But the native ecosystem is gone. There’s nothing to stop the flames, and the fire burns through everything.

Even if it’s a good lightning strike, there’s nothing left to sustain audience interest after the initial viral hit. There’s no email program left to nurture leads coming in the door. Any Google juice you had from consistently publishing high-quality articles is dried up, and it’ll take years and a huge amount of money to get it back.

I’m not saying that marketers shouldn’t experiment with new mediums. No, especially if existing mediums aren’t producing a high enough return, it makes sense to cut back some older growth and see if you can get a new fruit tree to take root.

But maybe plant that fruit tree in a ring of Gambel oaks to give it a fighting chance, and to keep your property safe. Maybe launch that TikTok strategy on a smaller scale, and keep your email program going and your library of articles fresh.

You can’t protect your marketing from every threat. But you can create a more resilient landscape.