“The human mind once stretched by a new idea never goes back to its original dimensions.”
Oliver Wendell Holmes
I’ve always been fascinated by technology and improving processes. Not so much the ‘what’, but the ‘how’.
I’ve been taking things apart for as long as I can remember. As a child growing up, any gadget or gizmo within reach, I’d take it apart to see if I could make it work better. I seldom wrote things down back then, instead relying on my memory and gut feel to figure it out as I went. The complicated devices were the hardest, especially when I’d stare at a pile of parts with no clue where they belonged. But every time I got one right, it opened up this whole new understanding and I couldn’t stop. The more I learned, the more I wanted to dig in.
Looking back, I got lucky more times than I probably deserved, managing to put things back together without breaking them. Also, my ‘experiments’ didn’t always go over well with the adults in my life. There were definitely some tense conversations about what constituted a good use of household electronics.
I must’ve been about seven or eight when I was first introduced to the world of computers in the nineties. At the time, this was a rare experience for kids my age anywhere in the world. I know that sounds wild especially today, when toddlers are swiping through tablets before they can even talk. Things did change fast indeed.
By the time I was 10, I had memorised some 100 DOS commands which was just about enough to be really efficient with an IBM computer. I’m probably giving away my age with this revelation but this small feat of memorisation became very quickly redundant the moment Bill Gates’ Microsoft graced the world with the much friendlier Windows Operating System (Thanks Bill, for making my hard-earned skills obsolete overnight.) although I did learn a bit later on in life, when on a personal visit to Palo Alto (California), that there was a bit of ugly politics at the time between Bill Gates and Steve Jobs that brought about the rush with the Windows OS. That’s a whole other story, or trivia if you like, for a dinner conversation but I digress.
Fast forward a few years, and I found myself at reading at university a course on the science (and art) of talking to computers and getting them to do what you want them to shall we say. That’s where I really found my stride, digging into software design, coding, digital forensics, cybersecurity, robotics, and ethical hacking. The emphasis being on ethical.
Now while I was at Uni (or College, in case you’re American reading this), I had this odd habit where I’d regularly drop into lectures that had absolutely nothing to do with my own field of study. I did it out of nothing but pure curiosity. I felt there was always something new for me to learn and I often found those little side quests very useful in revealing new things that I could apply to my own technology application. Looking back now, I realise it wasn’t just curiosity but a form of pushing boundaries and refusing to let myself be defined by just one thing.
Once I graduated, I immediately stepped into the world of business and it’s there that my creative problem-solving skills began to really stretch their legs. But strangely to me, the people in this new world also had their own fixed ideas of what they wanted a young Tech graduate to do or be known for. Let’s just say, I’ve never been great at fitting neatly into anyone’s box. Being more square peg, round hole, I naturally kept pushing the boundaries, even at work: learning a little bit of everything around me and refusing to stay in just one lane.
The more I stuck my head outside the boxes that people tried to define me with, the more I realised how really vast the technology landscape was, especially in the world of global business management. What really fascinated me though, were the people and the processes behind the scenes: the gears that made things run smoothly (or not).
I soon realised that what began as childhood fascination in dismantling remote-controlled cars to understand their inner workings, had actually evolved into something far more sophisticated. It was now a solid art of deconstructing billion-dollar enterprises layer by layer, finding the inefficiencies and then rebuilding them back more efficiently and with the precision of a Swiss watch-maker. The irony wasn’t lost on me that I was now participating in the same ‘surgery’, except this time on corporate systems, processes, and people, except this time the stakes were infinitely higher and the “missing screws” could cost millions.
I’ve skipped over a few bits in this story, mostly for privacy reasons and NDAs, but suffice it to say, my hobby quietly transformed into a niche area of expertise and my life’s work, crafting solutions that don’t just meet the moment, but define it. From bedroom floors littered with circuit boards to corporate boardrooms filled with balance sheets and also exponentially more expensive ‘toys’. Thankfully, the other positive change is that with the advancement of age and experience, one could say that one’s a lot wiser now and this time, when I take things apart, I typically have a fairly good idea on how to rebuild better than I found things before. Let’s call it ‘corporate acceleration, without the carnage’.
As each day brings with it complex puzzles that demand inventive solutions, challenges that would have stumped my younger self armed only with a screwdriver and boundless curiosity, the tools have also evolved from tiny screwdrivers to sophisticated systems and infrastructure, but the core mission endures: taking apart what’s broken, understanding why it failed and then rebuilding it to run smoother than it did before. Some obsessions are worth growing up with.
