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Author: Mark Wilson

  • Interim, permanent, or fractional. What’s the difference?

    Interim, permanent, or fractional. What’s the difference?

    A few weeks ago, I found myself in a LinkedIn comment thread debating a word that’s popping up more often in 2025: fractional.

    Someone had written, “Isn’t ‘fractional’ just a new word for ‘contractor’?”

    That’s a fair question. But I don’t think the two are equivalent.

    I replied that contractors are typically full-time additions brought in to handle a short-term increase in demand – a burst of resource to deliver a project or fill a gap. A fractional professional, on the other hand, is someone who works with a business part-time and on an ongoing basis, bringing specialist expertise without the cost of a permanent hire. It’s not just semantics — it’s about how organisations think about accessing capability.

    Permanent roles

    Permanent employment still makes sense when you need someone embedded in the organisation, driving long-term initiatives, and living the company’s culture day-to-day. They’re part of the team for the long haul — shaping strategy, developing people, and being measured on sustained outcomes.

    But permanent roles come with commitments: salaries, benefits, career development, and (in some cases) inertia. In a fast-moving world, it’s not always the right model for every leadership or specialist need.

    Interim roles

    Then there are interim professionals — experienced hands who parachute in to steer the ship during a time of transition. They’re often brought in to stabilise a team, deliver change, or hold the fort while a permanent hire is found.

    Interims tend to be full-time for the duration of an assignment. They bring authority, clarity, and pace, but their job is usually to deliver outcomes and then move on. They tend to be pragmatic, sleeves-rolled-up leaders who thrive in uncertainty.

    (The WB-40 podcast recently did a great episode on this topic — it’s well worth a listen: Episode 334: Interim).

    Fractional roles

    And then there’s the rise of the fractional model — especially at C-suite level. A fractional CIO, CTO, or CMO might work one or two days a week with several organisations, providing ongoing strategic input, coaching internal teams, and ensuring continuity of expertise.

    It’s ideal for growing businesses that need senior leadership but don’t yet need (or can’t justify) a full-time role. For the individual, it offers variety and flexibility. For the business, it’s a cost-effective way to access top-tier skills.

    Not just semantics

    So no, “fractional” isn’t just a trendy word for “contractor”. Each of these models — permanent, interim, and fractional — serves a different need. And yes, any of them could be engaged on a contract or freelance basis, but the intent and structure differ.

    As I prepare to meet with and present to a group of fractional and interim CIOs and CTOs later this week, I’m reminded how work itself continues to evolve. The lines are blurring — but that also means there’s more choice than ever in how organisations access the skills they need, when they need them.

    Featured image: created by ChatGPT.

  • A couple of Garmin Fenix tips and tricks

    A couple of Garmin Fenix tips and tricks

    I’ve had my Garmin Fenix 6 Pro smartwatch for a few years now. I left my Apple Watch for the Garmin and have never looked back. I find that it works far better for me, as a pure sports watch rather than trying to be everything.

    Sure, Garmin Pay wasn’t supported in the UK (it may be now, I haven’t checked). But I always have my phone with me for Apple Pay. I’ve got the apps I need on the watch (like my Parkrun barcode) and the sports tracking is much better than Apple’s – both in accuracy and variety. I’m sure Apple has improved, but my Garmin has been bomb-proof for years. And the battery life is amazing – nearly two weeks, though I rarely let it go that long.

    But, a couple of nights ago it decided not to track my sleep. That was odd, and then I noticed it wasn’t recording my heart rate either. So I rebooted the watch. It’s the first rule of IT support – have you tried turning it off and on again?

    I don’t think I’ve ever had to do that in all the years I’ve owned it. Something like four years of uptime. Not bad!

    One thing that does annoy me is the charge cable. It’s not a standard USB-C (or USB-anything). Instead, it uses a proprietary four-pin connector on one end, and USB-A on the other. Over time, the connector becomes loose and won’t stay attached to the watch.

    The trick here is to gently give it a pinch with some needle-nosed pliers, halfway along the long sides. Close the metal back in and the connector holds firm again. Reliable charging resumes.

    Do you have a Garmin smartwatch? Got any tips or tricks to share?

    Featured image: created by ChatGPT.

  • The Chatham House Rule: there is only one!

    The Chatham House Rule: there is only one!

    It’s quite common to hear the phrase “this event will be run under Chatham House Rules”. The meaning of the phrase is that what is said in the room should be not be attributed to anyone present.

    Chatham House is an independent policy institute and a trusted forum for debate and dialogue.

    But they only have one rule. This is how it’s described on their website:

    “When a meeting, or part thereof, is held under the Chatham House Rule, participants are free to use the information received, but neither the identity nor the affiliation of the speaker(s), nor that of any other participant, may be revealed.”

    I can be a bit of a pedant, and I couldn’t help myself pointing it out today. Yes, I really am that much fun to work with. I will try to do better in future…

  • TIL: About custom emojis in Microsoft Teams

    TIL: About custom emojis in Microsoft Teams

    I was in a Teams meeting recently, where someone added a version of our company logo as a reaction to a message. I’d never seen that before, and I was intrigued.

    A little Googling later, and the AI Overview gave me my answer:

    “To create custom emoji teams in Microsoft Teams, you need to upload images or GIFs as custom emojis, which can then be used by all members of your organization. This involves selecting the “Emoji, GIFs and Stickers” option in the message box, navigating to “Your org’s emoji,” and then choosing “Add emoji” to upload your custom content.”

    This is what it looks like (though the screen grab has removed my cursor!)

    And then…

    You can read more about managing custom emoji in Teams, in the Microsoft support article on Use Custom Emoji in Microsoft Teams.

  • Gap year benefits: why a gap year might be the best decision you ever make

    Gap year benefits: why a gap year might be the best decision you ever make

    It’s that time of year again. In the UK, A-Level results arrive this week, GCSEs next. Traditional and social media will be full of articles about “what to do if you didn’t make the grade”.

    I won’t be writing one of those.

    Yes, I messed up my A-Levels. I scraped into my chosen polytechnic, graduated from university with honours, and built a reasonably successful career. But that was over 30 years ago. I’m also male and white, and that privilege has opened doors that might not have opened for others. My experience isn’t a template.

    What I do want to write about is the magic of a gap year.

    After 14 years of education, maybe you need a break before doing more. Maybe you want time before resits or reapplying to different universities. Maybe university isn’t for you at all. Or maybe you just want to live a bit before deciding what’s next.

    Gap years are amazing.

    Challenging the “gap year = unemployed” mindset

    Some people will tell you a gap year is “just another name for being unemployed”. I think they’re wrong.

    A gap year can be a year of growth, challenge, adventure, and learning about yourself in ways that a classroom can’t teach.

    Two gap years, two very different stories

    As a parent to two adult children, I’ve seen this first-hand.

    My eldest son, now 20, took not one but two gap years.

    The first followed his passion for cycling. He worked as a holiday rep leading cycling tours, returned to the UK to work in a warehouse, and tested whether he could make it as a professional cyclist. The racing results don’t matter — he’s great, but greatness isn’t the same as being exceptional. What mattered was what he learned along the way:

    • How to train 16 hours a week alongside a full-time job.
    • How to plan every meal and every drink to fuel performance.
    • How to deal with disappointment when a promised training arrangement fell through.
    • How to adapt in a foreign country, find a house share with a professional cyclist (thanks Sophie), and live his best life until returning to race in the UK.

    His second gap year was more “traditional” — travel to a variety of European destinations, a few weeks volunteering for a charity in India, more warehouse work (he needed to fund it all), and more racing but this time without the professional ambitions.

    There were challenges too. An internship had led to the promise of a job, but that never materialised. Undeterred, he followed up and found a new opportunity with the same firm — only for that to go quiet as well, this time because of an administrative error that meant no contract was ever issued. By then he was applying elsewhere. And it was the self-confidence built over two gap years, outside formal education, and without relying solely on his parents for guidance and support, that made him shine as a candidate in his assessment centre for the role. That confidence also helped him be certain the degree apprenticeship was the right route for him — so much so that he let go of his deferred place at The University of Sheffield.

    Looking ahead

    My youngest son is 18. He’ll get his A-Level results on Thursday and we have fingers (and toes) crossed that he gets the grades for his place at Exeter University. But before that, there are travel dreams to chase — which will also be funded by casual work.

    Oktoberfest is already in the calendar (inspired by our Interrailing trip together last year). Applications are in for a ski season. There are plans for a few months in South East Asia. He’s seen his brother’s adventures and has role models in his parents and maternal uncle, who all travelled extensively before him.

    When I first travelled, I had no idea what I was doing — I was the first in my family to go to university, the first to go Interrailing, and the first to fly around the world (that wasn’t on a gap year — I took time out after a few years in the workplace — and, by then, my career direction was set and it would have been very difficult to change).

    The takeaway

    Of course, not everyone will have the opportunities that my sons have. I wrote of my privilege, and my sons benefit from this too — perhaps even more so. They have both had part-time jobs alongside their school work, played sports, and taken part in many other extra-curricular activities that expanded their horizons. And my wife and I will continue to do everything we can to support them, just as we always have.

    But here’s my message: think about a gap year.

    It might not be for you — and that’s fine. It might be harder to make it a reality — but I urge you to consider it, if you can possibly find a way, because it might open your eyes to a world of opportunity. At the very least, it could give you the kind of stories, skills, and confidence that make you stand out from the crowd, spark curiosity in future employers, and set you on a path you might never have found otherwise.

    And that’s why a “gap year” is certainly not a euphemism for being unemployed whilst living with your parents.

    Featured image: created by ChatGPT

  • Clients or customers? Why words matter in business relationships

    Clients or customers? Why words matter in business relationships

    “We are a professional services company — professional services companies have clients.”

    That was the view of one of my former CEOs, Alun Rogers. And for years, I’ve followed suit. Coming from a consulting background, I’ve always used client as the default. It suggests a professional, ongoing relationship. It hints at trust, expertise, partnership — even a touch of formality.

    But lately, there’s been a shift. In my current role, the language is changing. After a period of trying to standardise on client, we’re now seeing customer creeping back in — and it looks like customer might win.

    What’s in a word?

    At first glance, it might seem like semantics. But words shape perception. And in a world of digital transformation, evolving business models, and hybrid service offerings, choosing between client and customer says something about who we are — and how we see those we serve.

    Client carries with it a certain professional distance. Lawyers have clients. Consultants have clients. Agencies have clients. There’s an implication of long-term engagement and a service that’s often tailored or advisory.

    Customer, on the other hand, feels more transactional — but also more accessible. It’s friendlier. More familiar. Retailers have customers. SaaS platforms have customers. Even the coffee shop down the road has customers (and maybe a loyalty card to keep them coming back).

    Are we transactional or relational?

    In truth, many of us operate in the blurred space between the two. We want to build trusted, long-term relationships — but we also offer repeatable, scalable services. The classic consultancy model is shifting. Clients are becoming subscribers. Services are being productised. The lines are blurring.

    So maybe this isn’t just a linguistic debate. Maybe it reflects something deeper — how we define what we do.

    Clients have customers too

    Another reason client has felt natural to me is that, in many cases, our clients have customers of their own. We work with them to help improve the service they offer to their customers. It’s a reminder that, in B2B engagements, we’re often one step removed from the end user — but still invested in their success.

    Friendlier language in a customer-centric world

    That said, there’s a strong case for friendlier language. As organisations focus more on customer experience and ease of communication, customer might simply land better. It feels more inclusive, more human. And if we’re aiming to be more approachable, then customer might be the right fit — even in a professional services setting.

    Just don’t expect me to stop saying client overnight.

    Featured image: created by ChatGPT

  • Same word, different world: cloud in context

    Same word, different world: cloud in context

    Almost 15 years ago, the US National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST) published its definition of cloud computing. It outlined the essential characteristics of cloud, the service models (Infrastructure as a Service, Platform as a Service, and Software as a Service), and the deployment models – public, private, and hybrid. For a while, it felt like the industry had a common understanding of what cloud meant.

    Cloud, in this context, is a concept – a way of thinking about how IT services are delivered. We might implement it in different ways, but we’re broadly talking about on-demand computing resources, elastic scalability, and usage-based metering. At least, that was the theory.

    Same trend, different lens

    Lately, I’ve seen conversations where different groups of technology experts view cloud through very different lenses. One group talks about organisations repatriating workloads from the cloud, while another highlights how they’re helping businesses modernise to the cloud. Both are right – they’re just looking at the same thing from opposite ends.

    One sees rising cloud costs and workload suitability questions. The other sees the opportunity to modernise legacy applications and deliver value faster. Neither is wrong. But without that shared context, the conversation quickly becomes disjointed.

    It’s perfectly possible – and entirely logical – for a majority of organisations to be moving one or more workloads away from the cloud (e.g. IaaS workloads that are poorly suited, or were not transformed), while at the same time many others are embracing SaaS to modernise their business applications.

    Security still matters – even in SaaS

    In another recent discussion, a speaker gave a solid presentation on cloud security challenges – configuration management, data protection, identity controls, and the like. Then came a question from the audience: “But what about us in the world of SaaS?”

    It was a fair point. But again, it revealed the disconnect. Security considerations don’t go away with SaaS – they just shift. You might not patch servers anymore, but you still need to manage identities, access, and data sharing.

    Microsoft explained the shared responsibility model back in 2018. They made it clear that while your provider handles infrastructure and platform security, you’re still on the hook for things like information protection and user behaviour.

    Stop the tribalism

    This is where it all starts to fall apart. “Cloud” has become such a broad umbrella that it hides the diversity underneath. Infrastructure-, platform-, software as a service – they’re all cloud, but they’re not the same. It’s almost as though we need to begin every meeting with a clarification: which cloud are we talking about?

    We need to move past this tribalism. It’s unhelpful, and often gets in the way of progress. When we default to our own perspective – infrastructure vs. applications, on-prem vs. SaaS – we risk talking past each other.

    Speak the same language

    As technologists, we have a responsibility to be clear. If we’re talking about cloud, let’s define the scope. If we’re making assumptions, let’s surface them. Whether your focus is on platforms, apps, infrastructure or security, the goal is the same: to deliver value through technology.

    So next time someone starts a sentence with “cloud is…”, pause. Ask them which bit they mean. It might just save everyone a lot of confusion.

    Featured image: created by ChatGPT

  • Andalucía remembered

    Andalucía remembered

    Two decades on, we came once more,
    To southern Spain, and sun-kissed shores.
    Nerja welcomed with skies so wide,
    Where sea and mountain gently collide.

    From terrace high, the blue expanse,
    Each morning caught us in a trance.
    Fresh coffee, then to the beach we’d roam,
    Before the heat would drive us home.

    Villages basked in golden light,
    The sea turned silver come the night.
    Warmth on skin, cool drinks in hand,
    We let the days unfold unplanned.

    Laughter echoed, glasses clinked,
    We paused, we smiled, we stopped to think.
    Days defined by time and place —
    Sun and family, gentle pace.

    One final day in Málaga’s hum,
    Before the holiday was done.
    Now back to clouds and colder climes,
    But held inside, those warmer times.

    (A collaboration between me, and ChatGPT… showing why I should stick to tech and leave the poetry to poets…)

    Featured image: author’s own.

  • Is this really progress? The downsides of the app economy

    Is this really progress? The downsides of the app economy

    A simple plan goes sideways

    I should have just phoned the local taxi company.

    But no. I listened to my son — who, to be fair, meant well — and took a modern, app-based approach. “Use Bolt,” he said. “It’s just like Uber. I use it all the time.” And that, it turns out, was the problem.

    We’re on holiday in Andalucía, trying to get to a nearby village for dinner. I booked the ride through Bolt, selecting a pickup slot between 17:00 and 17:10. The app stressed the importance of punctuality: we had to be outside on time, or the driver might only wait five minutes before cancelling. Fair enough. So at 16:57 we were all standing by the road, ready to go.

    By 17:10, nothing had happened.

    Then the app admitted defeat. “No drivers available.” Ride cancelled. “WTF? I booked that hours ago”, thought I.

    Platform to nowhere

    OK, so Bolt has no drivers and our evening plans are in disarray. So I tried Uber. First, it quotes a price. Then it suggests paying extra to “increase the chance of getting a ride”. You know, because surge pricing and nudging people into premium options is apparently what counts as innovation now. Unsurprisingly, that didn’t work either. After taking my money and several minutes of repeatedly trying to get a driver to take the ride, feasting on my iPhone battery and drinking my mobile data allowance, it finally gave up on the cutesey “sorry about the wait” and admitted that there we no drivers available.

    So here we are. No car. No ride. No confidence that we’d even get back if we somehow found our own way there.

    I did everything right. I booked in advance. I turned up early. I trusted the system.

    And the system is broken.

    The slow death of a good idea

    This is the very definition of enshittification — the gradual degradation of a service as it prioritises growth, then revenue, then cost-cutting. What starts out as a great user experience slowly turns to dust as the platform corners the market and lets quality slide. First they undercut local businesses, drawing customers in. Then they ration supply, push up prices, and shrug when things go wrong.

    Talking with my son about his experience back home, and it seems the traditional minicab firms are fewer and fussier — because they’ve been undercut too. Just like high street shops were when Amazon trained us to expect fast, cheap delivery with no human interaction. And what happens when the competition’s gone? Well, you can guess what happens to the prices and service levels.

    App-based everything

    It’s not just transport or retail. It’s food delivery, hotel bookings, eBooks, music, even how we consume the news. Everything’s an app. Everything’s global. Everything’s slick — until it isn’t.

    And I’m clearly not alone in thinking this. I recently reshared a post on LinkedIn that echoed a lot of my frustrations. From self-checkouts to smart homes, booking travel to banking queries, we’ve been sold the idea that technology makes everything easier. But the pattern seems to be this: companies use technology to reduce their own costs — while shifting the work onto us.

    We scan our own groceries. We manage our own bookings. We dig through online portals to find PDFs that digitise our paper records. We chat to bots that often can’t help, and fill in digital forms just to get the most basic of services.

    Grumpy Old Man

    So yes, I may joke about my Grumpy Old Man Syndrome, but the underlying point stands: just because we can do something digitally, doesn’t mean we should. Especially when the “innovation” really just amounts to taking humans out of the loop and putting consumers to work.

    Of course, some people prefer the new ways. Not everyone wants to chat with a travel agent or ring up a cab office. For many, the ability to access data and services 24/7 is empowering.

    Progress means keeping options open

    But what matters most — and what so often gets forgotten — is that there should still be a choice. Because if everything goes digital with no fallback, we risk excluding those who can’t (or don’t want to) play the app economy game.

    Maybe I am just an old man yelling at the cloud (service). But the app-based, gig-driven, digitally transformed economy isn’t always a step forwards. The frictionless experience often hides a lot of pain behind the scenes — for drivers, small businesses, and occasionally, for frustrated tourists standing by a road in southern Europe, hoping the app will work this time.

    The world is increasingly run by tech bros in California. And we’re all a little poorer — culturally and economically — for it.

    Featured image: created by ChatGPT

    Post Script

    [14/7/25] Yesterday morning, I walked to the local tourist office. I know, really old school! There, I spoke to a really helpful lady, who advised me on local buses and taxis. We called a central number for taxis in the town — no advanced bookings can be made but the first off the rank came to collect us. And we had our evening in the next village. It was lovely.

  • Everything is connected

    Everything is connected

    “Blue Screens of Death” on public displays amuse me. There’s something oddly entertaining about a railway station departure board throwing a Windows fit or a high street advertising screen stuck waiting for a DHCP lease. It’s the digital equivalent of seeing behind the curtain — a reminder that there’s a PC in there somewhere, doing its best to run the show.

    And that’s the thing, isn’t it? It is just a PC. These days, so many of the things we take for granted — the TV, the fridge, the car — are just another node on the network.

    Take my car, for instance. I recently renewed the subscription for its connected services. For a modest fee, I can check if it’s locked, see its mileage, locate it on a map, get a journey history for my expense report, and browse a whole range of data that used to stay hidden behind a service technician’s diagnostic port. And it’s not just a luxury add-on — since 2018, EU regulations have required all new cars to include built-in connectivity for emergency calls (eCall), so the hardware is there whether I subscribe or not.

    Later in the day, I stood at the station as a train rolled in. Its destination display had gone wrong and cycled through what looked like debug information — including an internal IP address and MAC address. Those probably belonged to the signage system, but I’d bet good money the whole train runs a local network, linking everything from passenger information to onboard diagnostics, and connecting it all back to control centres via mobile data or trackside Wi-Fi.

    It made me think: everything really is connected now. Not in the “1990s vision of the Internet of Things” kind of way — more in a quietly omnipresent, of course it’s online sort of way. If it’s powered, it’s probably got a network interface. And if it’s got a network interface, it’s probably talking to something.

    There’s real value in that — better data, faster diagnostics, new services, and a smoother user experience. But it comes with risk too: more complexity, more places where things can go wrong, and a bigger attack surface. When my coffee machine has its own app and occasionally needs a reboot, I know we’ve crossed a line.

    The future is here. It’s connected. And every now and then, it forgets its IP address.

    Featured image: created by ChatGPT