Notes

Shorter than essays. Often half-finished thoughts.

  1. August 7, 2026

    Who I am, not what I do

    I would rather be remembered as who I am than as what I do. I am a human, not a machine, and humans should strive for human qualities like love and kindness and courage. Excellence is a human quality too, one that matters a lot, and I want to be remembered as an excellent person. The problem, though, is that most people these days think of excellence only in terms of productive output at work. You should be productive, but there is nothing excellent about the engineer who ships the most flawless code for the auth engine if they are rude and condescending to other humans. There is nothing excellent about an entrepreneur who built a company into a unicorn in two years in a failing economy if her employees think of her only as a paycheck, someone they never want to speak to after 5pm.

    Gaël Monfils retires this year without a Slam or a Masters title, and none of that will decide how he is remembered. After his last National Bank Open match, his opponent, Learner Tien, walked over to ask for an autograph. Learner did that because of who Gaël is as a person, not who he is as a tennis player. He’s no Djokovic or Nadal or Federer, players whose résumés hold every shiny Grand Slam and Masters 1000 title you can think of. Regardless, sport will file Gaël among its most loved athletes, not for what he won but for who he was while he played, and he played tennis nobody could look away from. He was kind, funny, generous with his time, endlessly entertaining, an all-round great person, and that’s more than a Grand Slam can get you.

    I have been volunteering on the in-seat service team at the NBO, and my team lead, Darlene White, remembers every volunteer by name. She knows who has come and who has not, checks on everybody, and is there from morning till night, always smiling. If I wrote anything about her, it would not be about how well she runs the team, though she runs it really well. It would be that she is a great person. That is about it. And that says more than an award on a shelf ever will.

    That is the person I want to be remembered as. Not the excellent product manager, though I chase that earnestly every day, but the one who managed a team, and the team remembers him for looking out for them. The one who stood up for the little guy being bullied. The one who always remembered to bring an extra bottle of water for the man who slept at the bus stop. The human, not the machine.

    There is a picture I saw once that says: Humankind, be both. That’s a better way to be remembered, I believe.

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  2. July 20, 2026

    Who the Work Is For

    My partner sometimes asks why I put so much into my work, especially when I’m building for a company that isn’t mine. The early mornings and late nights can look like a sacrifice made for someone else. But I don’t think of the work as belonging only to the company. I think of it as something I’ll one day look back on and know I helped create.

    The company can own the result, put its name on it, and receive the recognition. That’s fine. What matters to me is knowing that something I made solved a real problem for someone. A short message saying, “This helped me,” or “This made things clearer,” can make my entire day. Those small moments remind me what the work is for.

    I learned some of this from my mother. We grew up with very little, yet she always found a way to share—cooking extra food for a family nearby or helping someone’s child stay in school. Her kindness became a legacy carried by the people she helped. Watching her taught me that what we give to others eventually becomes part of who we are.

    So when the work feels difficult or invisible, I try to remember the person on the other side of it. They may never know my name, and I may never receive an award, but their life might become a little easier because I cared enough to do something well. If you’re struggling with your work, perhaps that’s a useful reframe: it may not matter to your boss today, but it could matter deeply to the person it eventually reaches.

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  3. July 18, 2026

    My Wife Hate-Watches, But I Know Ball.

    My wife never believes my football predictions. She hate-watches while I explain what the coaches are getting wrong, rolls her eyes, and then watches the game unfold almost exactly as I said it would. Against Argentina, I told her England’s first half would be flat because Tuchel had benched Saka and left out Rashford. England needed Rashford’s pace, Saka’s strength and creativity, and a midfield where Saka and Declan Rice could provide balance while Bellingham pushed forward. Tuchel eventually made some of those changes, but too late to save the game.

    Against France, England started with Rashford and Saka, and I immediately told her she would see a completely different team. England dominated the first half, but I also said France’s problem was obvious: Olise and Mbappé were carrying the entire attack while Barcola and Dembélé sat on the bench. Bring those two on, I said, and the game would change. Deschamps did exactly that at halftime. Suddenly France had width, movement and passing options. Mbappé scored twice; Dembélé and Barcola scored too. Just as I had predicted.

    Even when the game reached 4–3, I told her what Tuchel needed to do next: keep Saka involved and bring Bellingham back into the game. He did, England regained control, Saka completed his hat-trick, and Bellingham scored. England eventually won, but the more important result is that I won. Again! I have watched football since I was a child. At some point, my wife must stop hate-watching and put some respect on my football knowledge.

    We'll go again at it for the final tomorrow.

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  4. July 18, 2026

    The 90-Day PM Myth

    LinkedIn has helped create an unhealthy culture around product management. Posts promising a perfect first 30, 60, or 90 days often reduce complex work to a checklist: meet stakeholders, understand customers, define strategy, improve processes, and start shipping, all before a new PM has properly understood the company.

    The problem is not that these activities are wrong. The problem is the timeline and the expectations it creates. In many organisations, 90 days may barely be enough to understand the product, the customers, the technology, the politics, and the history behind previous decisions. Shipping quickly can look impressive, but speed without context often produces half-baked products and expensive mistakes.

    When advice designed for LinkedIn engagement becomes a management standard, product managers are treated less like thoughtful decision-makers and more like machines expected to generate immediate output. That pressure creates toxic environments, encourages unnecessary overwork, and eventually affects people’s health and the quality of their work.

    Good product management requires urgency, but it also requires patience. We should stop confusing visible activity with meaningful progress, and give people enough time to understand the problems before demanding that they solve them.

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  5. July 6, 2026

    Do people really know you? Or do they just think they do?

    Have you ever been in a situation where someone just sees something online that you did and they are just blown away that you could do that and you've been able to do that for a long time?

    They just never bothered to ask because they just assumed it was not possible, and when they find out, they are genuinely surprised. Have you been in that situation? If you have, how have you addressed it?

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  6. July 1, 2026

    There’s no one way to do anything!

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  7. May 16, 2026

    Field notes is the place I'll put short observations — a sentence, a paragraph, occasionally a voice memo. Lower bar than an essay; higher than X. Some will turn into longer pieces on the writing page; most won't.