
Good Managers Don’t “Babysit” Their Talent
Creators aren’t children. And good managers aren’t babysitters.
Throughout my time in podcast production and now talent representation, I've often heard people in the industry say that talent needs to be "babysat." When my brilliant mentor — and OG producer of Hamish & Andy — Sam Cavanagh first told me I'd make a great talent manager, my immediate reaction was: absolutely not. I had this image of constantly mothering someone needy and entitled, playing therapist, best friend, calendar keeper… with no boundaries of my own. Why would anyone want that?
What I've come to realise is that this "babysitting" narrative isn't just wrong — it's actively harmful. Here's why:
First, it creates unhealthy power dynamics.
Some managers do blur lines and end up in co-dependent relationships with their talent, which leads to burnout and resentment on both sides. But this happens precisely because the industry normalizes the idea that good management means having no boundaries. When you skip the step of defining clear professional parameters, you end up waiting for a text reply at 10pm on a Saturday - or worse, building a working relationship that quietly undermines itself through unspoken resentment.
Second, there's often a gendered layer to the "difficult talent" narrative.
When people talk about creators who are "high maintenance," they're usually talking about women. Powerful, self-assured women who speak up and want creative control are still described as "crazy" or "needing to be managed." This language diminishes their legitimate professional needs and reduces complex business relationships to patronizing caretaking.
Third, it misunderstands neurodivergent creators entirely.
For many neurodivergent talent, the need for clarity, structure, and detailed communication isn't about entitlement, it's about access. It's about reducing cognitive friction so they can focus on what they do best. When we frame these accommodation requests as "neediness," we're not just being ableist; we're actively making it harder for brilliant creators to succeed.
The "babysitting" commentary is also a byproduct of industry culture, where producers, managers, and behind-the-scenes workers sometimes pride themselves on being the ones "really running the show." That pride turns toxic when it becomes about control rather than support; when it's more about ego than enabling great work.
That's why I prefer "talent representative" to "talent manager" in most settings. The semantics matter to me. I use "manager" when it helps people understand what I do, but I know what it's not: I'm not your mother.
What I am is a strategist, facilitator, advocate, and filter. I help creators grow by pitching them to brands, managing logistics, analyzing content performance, planning shoots, and co-creating career roadmaps. When you define your services clearly, it becomes easier to separate the personal from the professional. That clarity is what makes relationships work and what builds careers that are not just sustainable, but genuinely satisfying for everyone involved.
So can we stop with the infantilizing language? Creators aren't children. Good managers aren't babysitters. And if you've ever worried you're "too much" to work with, you're not. You just need someone who understands how you work best… and helps others understand it too.
