Transformed Hopkins' digital authority
Turned fragmented healthcare content into a competitive advantage
Connected patients with life-changing expertise
Despite being a top medical institution, Johns Hopkins lagged behind Mayo Clinic and Cleveland Clinic in digital health. Their online presence was fragmented, inconsistent, and did not reflect their medical expertise.
The problem wasn't unique to Hopkins. Across healthcare, organizations invest millions in website redesigns while neglecting authoritative, accessible content that helps people make significant decisions.
When I first explored Johns Hopkins' digital landscape, I encountered a common pattern in healthcare. Brilliant physicians created websites showcasing their expertise, but overlooked what patients needed.
One department greeted visitors with high-definition surgery footage that would fascinate medical students but terrify patients. Another featured complex anatomical diagrams challenging second-year students. A third led with dense academic publications demonstrating research excellence but offering no practical guidance.
Each site reflected the doctors' expertise, but none reflected the patient's experience.
This wasn't just a design problem; it was eroding their competitive advantage. While their medical excellence remained unquestioned, their digital authority was slipping to more organized competitors.
I've witnessed the same pattern after leading content transformations in organizations. An executive announces the need for better content. Teams hire consultants. Everyone makes presentations with colorful charts. Twelve months later, nothing has changed.
Three primary factors often derail these initiatives:
During a difficult meeting, a department chair asked.
"Why should I give up control of my content? My team knows our field better than anyone else."
He wasn't wrong. His department included pioneers who developed surgical techniques taught globally. But his perspective revealed a fundamental misunderstanding affecting healthcare content initiatives.
The question isn't about who knows the medicine best, but who can translate that expertise into something patients can use. It's about creating a system where brilliant minds focus on sharing knowledge rather than managing websites.
This wasn't a typical corporate website merger where the worst outcome might be a temporary dip in lead generation. We were dealing with content guiding significant healthcare decisions.
One wrong redirect or one lost treatment options page, and you're not just losing traffic, you're potentially impacting patient care. The technical complexity matched the ethical responsibility.
Show a room of medical experts a CMS demo, and watch their eyes glaze over. Then, show them how Mayo Clinic is outperforming them in their expertise, and you have their full attention.
Most healthcare content projects start with platforms and templates rather than purpose and strategy. They focus on containers rather than their content.
At Johns Hopkins, we took a different approach. We acknowledged the institution's unique strengths and the realities of patient behavior in the digital age.
Instead of starting with solutions, we created a "content reality map" for each department. This wasn't just an inventory; it was a strategic assessment that showed:
The results were surprising for even the most digitally savvy departments. Pages they considered crucial had zero traffic, while forgotten content from years ago received thousands of monthly views.
Most content projects fail because they start with templates. We began with a modular architecture built around essential information units:
This wasn't just about organization. It was about scaling expertise. When a doctor updates a treatment description, it updates everywhere, eliminating contradictions and outdated advice across the digital ecosystem.
Instead of positioning departments as content contributors, we established them as strategic partners. For each clinical area, we demonstrated:
The migration process is the most technically challenging aspect of content transformation. One wrong move could impact years of built search rankings connecting patients to care.
We developed a "safety net migration system":
The approach was flawless.
The transformation results extended beyond improved website metrics. The entire relationship between the institution and its digital presence evolved:
Instead of managing websites, medical experts could focus on sharing knowledge. They redirected the time spent on digital administration to creating valuable content.
One surgeon now dedicated nearly three hours weekly to creating patient education videos that reached thousands instead of a few.
The analytics indicated the strategy was effective:
The most significant change was qualitative. Johns Hopkins began reclaiming its position as a medical and digital health authority meeting patients where they sought information.
Most healthcare organizations misunderstand content strategy. They think it's about websites and text.
It's not.
It's about unlocking expertise, helping brilliant people reach more patients, and transforming content management into an advantage.
When done right, content strategy builds a better website and a stronger institution. It creates a system where knowledge flows freely from those who have it to those who need it.