For thirty years I worked in telecoms. I built a strong network, worked across a wide range of roles and latterly joined a specialist pricing team supporting significant revenues for an international business. I felt I understood the corporate system I was part of.

Then one morning I joined what I thought was a routine catch-up with my manager. HR joined the call and within minutes I was being made redundant. As the news sank in, one thought came to mind: “Perhaps I didn’t understand the system as well as I thought.”

The skills, relationships and experience I’d built were all valuable, but they weren’t the only forces at work. A few months later I found myself in a completely different world. Instead of navigating a large organisation, I was building products as the founder of Incygames. Success no longer depended on reporting lines, budgets or internal politics. It depended on talking to customers, testing assumptions and learning quickly.

Looking back, redundancy wasn’t simply a change of career. It was a change of system.

That experience led me to systems thinking. It starts with a simple observation: before deciding how to solve a problem, it helps to understand what kind of system we’re in. The same behaviour can succeed brilliantly in one system and fail completely in another.

One model I return to is the Cynefin Framework. It suggests there isn’t one best way to tackle problems. Different systems reward different approaches:

• Clear –> Follow proven processes
• Complicated –> Seek expertise
• Complex –> Experiment and learn
• Chaotic –> Act decisively

The mistake usually isn’t choosing a bad approach. It’s applying the wrong approach to the system we’re in.

Clear systems reward discipline

>Everything should be made as simple as possible, but no simpler. - Albert Einstein

Some problems are wonderfully boring. Making a cup of tea, following a recipe or completing a pre-flight checklist all belong to systems where cause and effect are obvious. Follow the process and you’ll usually achieve the expected result.

We often underestimate checklists because they feel too simple. Pilots and surgeons don’t. Neither did Van Halen, whose famous request for a bowl of M&M’s with all the brown ones removed wasn’t rock-star excess. It was a quick way of checking whether a venue had read the detailed technical requirements hidden elsewhere in the contract. One tiny observation revealed the health of the entire system.

Sometimes the cleverest thing we can do isn’t to be clever. It’s simply to respect the process.

Complicated systems reward expertise

>It is not enough to do your best; you must first know what to do. - W. Edwards Deming

Not every problem comes with an instruction manual. Buying a house, planning for retirement, diagnosing a medical condition or designing software are all complicated systems. Good answers exist, but they require knowledge and experience.

This is where expertise creates significant value. I’ve learned that paying an expert often feels expensive until we compare it with fixing our own mistakes. Experience allows people to recognise patterns we’ve never had the chance to see.

The danger is assuming every difficult problem belongs here. Many don’t. Some problems only reveal themselves once we begin moving.

Complex systems reward experimentation

>No battle plan survives contact with the enemy. - Helmuth von Moltke the Elder

Building Daily View has reinforced this lesson. Every conversation with a potential user changes my understanding of the product. Features I expected people to love receive little interest while seemingly minor details generate enthusiasm.

The product isn’t simply being built, it’s emerging. That’s the nature of complex systems. Cause and effect only become obvious in hindsight which is why entrepreneurs who spend months perfecting a plan often learn less than those who spend weeks testing assumptions.

Planning still matters, but learning matters more. Progress comes from running small experiments, gathering feedback and becoming progressively less wrong.

Chaotic systems reward decisive action

>In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable. - Dwight D. Eisenhower

Sometimes analysis isn’t enough. A cyber attack, a family emergency or a major system outage creates a chaotic system where information is incomplete and events move too quickly for certainty.

Johnson & Johnson’s response to the Tylenol poisonings remains a classic example. Rather than waiting until they understood every detail, they recalled millions of bottles immediately. They stabilised the situation first and investigated afterwards.

Chaos rewards decisive action followed by careful learning. Waiting for perfect information usually makes the problem worse.

The hardest system to redesign

>Every system is perfectly designed to get the results it gets. - W. Edwards Deming

Perhaps the biggest lesson from systems thinking is that we’re usually inside the system we’re trying to understand. Fish don’t notice water. Employees don’t always notice company culture. Founders struggle to recognise the assumptions built into their own businesses because those assumptions simply feel normal.

That’s why mentors, data and stepping back matters. Each provides the perspective of someone standing on the platform while we’re sitting inside the moving train.

The hardest system to redesign isn’t our company, our career or our product. It’s the collection of assumptions quietly running inside our heads. Change those and decisions that once felt difficult often become surprisingly obvious.

Want more?

The Startup Is Not Always the Thing You Start post by Phil Martin

Seven Steps to Radical Thinking post by Phil Martin

We spend a lot of time trying to make better decisions. Systems thinking suggests a different question.

Before asking whether we’re making the right decision, ask whether we’re using the right approach for the system we’re in.

The answer might change everything.

Have fun.

Phil...

I spent fifteen years navigating the Mediterranean before I understood what I was actually doing. Not escaping. Not collecting cities like stamps. Not optimising tax residencies. I was searching for a place where the wind could still reach me — but where I would choose to stay.

I found it in Málaga. 1,650+ days later, I'm still here.

Last week, I released a flamenco rumba called *Nómada de la Bahía*. It's the first artistic piece to come out of Rooted Nomadism, a philosophy I've been building over the past few years. The song is sung by a cantaora — a flamenco singer — with the rough warmth of Andalusia in her voice. She sings of roots that don't weigh, but embrace. A suitcase made of clouds. A home that is a terrace.

This isn't a productivity tip or a "how to work from anywhere" guide. It's an attempt to talk about belonging — not as a fixed address, but as a practice. Something you carry, not something you rent.

If the idea of the rooted nomad speaks to you, I'd genuinely like to hear what anchors you. A place, a ritual, a person, a memory — what keeps you from drifting?

Full story, lyrics in Spanish & English, and the philosophy behind the music:

https://salahnomad.com/malaga-codex/news/nomada-de-la-bahia/

Watch the song on YouTube (2:09):

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/GMc6xNT8zkM