Layers of language and responsibility
Common as a greeting, the word aloha is found in all Polynesian languages and always with multiple meanings: love, affection, peace, compassion, and mercy. For Native Hawaiians, aloha also has deeper cultural and spiritual significance as a force that holds together existence.
Growing up on Oʻahu, I learned another Hawaiian word with many layers: kuleana. My father used it to talk about personal responsibility, usually mine. As a child, my kuleana was to clean up after myself and help with chores. As an adult, it became more about my role at work and my responsibility to make the most of it.
To have your kuleana is to have a purpose
When you are entrusted with (and manage well) something that matters — a job, the land, or your community, it can provide for you in return. And the opposite can also be true: If something is outside your power, control, or management, no matter how much it may pain you, it is not your kuleana.
This sacred duty to actively care for and protect for future generations was the premise of The Descendants with George Clooney, nominated for five Academy Awards.
The concept of kuleana has shaped how I see PR today. When you create something or speak on behalf of a client — especially ones working to save lives, make communities stronger, or protect the planet — words are not filler for channels. You care about where they come from and where they might take you.
AI, for all it can do, does not care.
AI can predict with great speed the next most likely word given the trillions of words published before it. But it cannot stand before an audience and answer for what was said. It cannot strive to earn the trust of audiences over years. We humans can, however, and kuleana provides a framework for PR professionals (and the clients they serve) to navigate a new world order.
Truth as your kuleana
In Hawaiian culture, kuleana for the land means stewardship. You don’t take more than you give back. In communications, kuleana to the truth can mean the same. AI tools remix what already exists. They optimize for volume and pattern, not for accuracy. That’s how we get AI slop — cheap to fabricate, but costly if your credibility suffers.
Human communicators, by contrast, should protect and promote the truth as a trust. Push back when details are fuzzy. Check numbers against filings, not just Google. Find the plain-English version of technical jargon so the public can actually understand what’s at stake. This is not another layer of bureaucracy. When your audience doubts your facts, you’ve lost your license to lead.
In practice, that means building discipline into your process. Create a fact-check step for every press release and byline. Push your team to cross-check statistics against filings or primary data. Establish a plain-language review where someone outside the technical group confirms the message is clear. These small practices make your responsibility to the truth tangible to clients.
Audience as your kuleana
Kuleana also extends to relationships. In Hawai‘i, that means recognizing you are part of a community, not above it (even if you can afford secret tunnels under a private compound). In communications, it means remembering the audience is not just data on a dashboard.
AI can generate words, but it cannot listen (as Taco Bell can tell you). It cannot sense when a policymaker bristles at a phrase or when a reporter needs a different angle. When audiences want to feel heard, humans on the other side become a competitive advantage.
Consider a Silicon Valley utility that faced vocal community criticism when it needed to modernize infrastructure. Instead of hiding behind generic PR statements, its team met residents face-to-face, listened to concerns, and incorporated feedback into project design. That shift turned detractors into allies. Audiences respond when organizations own the message and own up to the mission.
Legacy as your kuleana
What communicators create aren’t words or images. Our body of work isn’t articles or awards. Those are merely atoms. Put together, seen at a distance, they can comprise something greater: a legacy.
Whatever we put into the world leaves a lesson. In PR, every statement shapes how stakeholders and the world at large perceive you. Words linger in archives and in memory. We have to care enough to choose them wisely so they leave a legacy that makes a difference.
Kuleana is about what you leave behind. My parents’ voices are gone now, but they echo in me. If I ever forget my purpose, I just need to be still for a moment so that I can hear the lessons they shared with me.
The privilege of voice
You don’t need Hawaiian blood to embrace your kuleana. For PR professionals, take to heart the privilege of your work. You, not your tools, help clients communicate with care and clarity. For executives eager to make a lasting difference, the path is clear. Resist the shortcut. Invest in communications teams and partners who treat words not as widgets but as responsibilities.
Ultimately, your real advantage is not morefastereverywhere. AI owns that now. What you choose to own, your kuleana, just may be your saving grace.
Aloha,
