Even a small change in strategy can be profoundly disruptive. That's because strategy isn't just downstream of purpose—it is purpose, in motion.

I've been thinking lately that I should spend 10% less time doing, and 10% more time learning.

As I recently posted, I bought the AirPods Max and one of the nice features there was its massive 20-hour battery life. This is actually the third device I've bought in six months where battery life has been a massive part of loving it.

As a lifelong Apple user - yep my parents were designers and I've never owned a PC - I've always slightly tongue-in-cheekily said that Apple products just work. And, of course, they do work pretty well.

I absolutely love wandering around stationery shops and it's taken me a good long while to begin to resist buying absolutely unnecessary notebooks which I inevitably end up not using very much of.

A Product Manager is supposed to be the great connector—the person who brings engineering, design, and business together. PMs are expected to be curious, collaborative, and customer-obsessed. They align stakeholders, navigate ambiguity, and create clarity from chaos. They're not the boss, but they lead. Not the expert, but the glue.

The 20th century belonged to specialists. Experts carved out narrow domains and dug deep. The system rewarded it — the best knee surgeon, the best COBOL programmer, the best ad copywriter. Depth was the differentiator. But AI tilts the game board.

A few reflections on last year.