Rethinking thought leadership

I’ve never liked the term “thought leadership”. In fact, I hate it. My first run-in with it was back in 2010, when I was working for David Smith and Mark Locke in Fujitsu UK and Ireland’s Office of the CTO. Even then, we were pretty clear: you don’t get to call yourself a thought leader. That label is earned. Other people decide it for you, usually long after you’ve stopped trying to chase it.

Fast-forward to today, and “thought leadership” is still something marketing teams everywhere love to talk about. It’s also something I recognise as part of my job in the Node4 OCTO. But my unease with the term has never really gone away.

So when I came across some LinkedIn Learning training on “becoming a better thought leader” (and yes, even typing that makes my stomach turn), I braced myself. And then something interesting happened.

I was introduced to the idea of a thought reader.

A different take

The course explained it like this

A thought leader is an expert. The go-to person. The one with the depth, the scars, the experience, the opinions. All fine. We know that world.

But a thought reader is different. A thought reader is someone who pays attention to the world around them.

Someone who tracks what’s happening in the market, in politics, in technology, in society. Someone who can read the room, not just the textbook. Someone who can bring context rather than just content.

Not an ivory-tower specialist. Not a voice shouting into the void. But someone grounded in what’s actually going on.

It’s the person who joins the dots and says: “I see what’s happening here, and here’s what it might mean for you.”

And that resonated

Because unlike thought leadership, I think thought readership can be claimed. You can choose to be someone who stays curious, who pays attention, who reads widely and listens well.

And if I’m honest, that feels a lot closer to where I sit.

A definition worth noting

Along the way, I also stumbled across a piece from the University of Exeter Business School that tries to rescue the term “thought leadership” by giving it a clearer, more grounded definition. They describe it as:

“Knowledge from a trusted, eminent and authoritative source that is actionable and provides valuable solutions for stakeholders.”

And to be fair, that feels right. It talks about trust, action and value. It suggests the label is something you earn, not something you declare.

What I can claim

What I can claim, though, is that I spend a lot of time trying to understand what’s going on out there. Reading widely. Noticing patterns. Making connections. Understanding context so I can explain things in a way that’s useful.

Less “sage on a stage”, and more “person who’s done the research so you don’t have to”.

And that feels much more like a thought reader than a thought leader.

I still won’t claim to be a thought leader — that’s for others to decide.

But, from today, I might, occasionally, claim to be a thought reader.

And that feels much more honest.

The day I forgot my wallet – and it didn’t matter

Yesterday I left the house without my wallet.

Once upon a time that would have been a disaster – but it didn’t matter in the slightest. I had my iPhone. My Apple Wallet held my train tickets and my virtual payment cards, and everything just worked.

At some point, I realised I’ve quietly crossed the line into a world where my phone is my wallet. It doesn’t just hold my payment cards – it replaces the cards I’d need to withdraw cash too. Which raises a question: if physical cards disappear, will we need NFC-enabled ATMs to keep access to cash alive?

The cashless tipping point

According to UK Finance’s UK Payment Markets 2025 report, cards now account for around two-thirds of all payments in the UK. Cash, once king, has slipped below 10% – fewer than one in ten transactions. Over half of UK adults now contactless payments, including both plastic cards and mobile wallets such as Apple Pay or Google Pay.

The Bank of England says cash won’t die out any time soon, but it’s hard to ignore the direction of travel. Every tap of a card or phone accelerates the shift.

Why cash still matters

And yet, we’re not a cashless society – at least, not officially.

The Financial Services and Markets Act 2023 gave the Financial Conduct Authority (FCA) powers to make sure people can still withdraw and deposit notes and coins. Its new Access to Cash Regime came into force last September.

So even as digital payments dominate, the UK is deliberately keeping cash alive – not for nostalgia, but for resilience and inclusion.

Because while most of us can pay with a tap, around 5% of adults still have no internet access, and many more are what Ofcom calls “digitally disadvantaged” – they’re online, but lack confidence or skills.

Cash also serves as a fallback when the technology fails. Power cut, network outage, or card terminal on the blink – the humble £10 note still works.

Emotional value

Then there’s the emotional side.

The Bank of England points out that many people prefer cash for budgeting – physically seeing money leave your hand is more tangible than a number on a screen.

There’s also the matter of privacy. Every card transaction leaves a digital trail; cash doesn’t. For some, that’s reason enough.

The cost question

One argument that keeps popping up is the cost of card payments. Some businesses still cite high processing fees, especially for low-value sales. Others quietly admit that banking and securing cash costs money too.

And it’s rare to find a truly “cash-only” business these days. In a 2020-21 survey by HMRC, only 1% of small businesses described themselves as cash-only.

The “cash only” question

That 1% does make me raise an eyebrow though.

Whenever I see a “cash only” sign, I can’t help wondering whether every pound is being reported to His Majesty’s Revenue and Customs. It’s probably unfair – there are genuine reasons for preferring cash – but the association is hard to shake.

HMRC’s own research shows some tradespeople see “cash jobs” as unlikely to be caught. Maybe that says more about culture than crime, but it lingers in the background.

Should we mourn the loss of cash?

Personally, I don’t think so.

I like the convenience of digital payments, the security of not carrying notes, and the way my wallet has quietly become redundant. The only time I use cash regularly now is at the local market, where some of the traders are cash-only and others just prefer it. Ironically, I still have some euros in my wallet, but rarely any pounds!

But I do think we need to protect choice. A fully digital economy can’t leave behind those who aren’t ready, able or willing to join it.

The regulators seem to agree. Access to cash is now a legal right, even if accepting it isn’t.

Reflection

Forgetting my wallet was a small thing, but it made me stop and think about how quickly we’ve moved from contactless cards to contactless lives. And as much as I enjoy the convenience of paying with a phone, maybe we should all keep a few notes for emergencies.

Transformation theatre: when digital isn’t enough

I’m not a frequent flyer. Indeed, I avoid flying if there’s an alternative (like high speed rail) but I’ve had a British Airways account for years – probably over twenty. But, when I tried to log in ahead of today’s flight to Dublin, it seemed to have vanished. My PIN didn’t work, the password reset email never arrived, and WhatsApp customer support confirmed the bad news: my account had been closed.

No problem, I thought – just reopen it. Except I couldn’t. The advisor explained that although the account didn’t exist anymore, my email address was still in their system. To open a new account, I’d need to use a different email address.

I told them that I only have one address. Because, frankly, I shouldn’t need to create another just to fit around their IT quirks.

Eventually, the advisor said they’d request my email be deleted so I could open a new account “after a few days”.

In the meantime, I can still manage my booking using just my surname and booking reference – which always feels worryingly insecure. (Fun fact: behind almost every flight is the SABRE system that dates back to 1964).

When transformation is skin-deep

This is a classic example of where “digital transformation” falls short. The airline has done the visible stuff – shiny mobile apps, chatbots, WhatsApp support – but the underlying customer processes are unchanged.

I can interact through modern digital channels, but I’m still dealing with the same rigid, legacy back-end that can’t handle a simple scenario like reopening a dormant account. The transformation has been cosmetic, not structural.

It’s a reminder that customer experience isn’t about channels; it’s about outcomes. If a customer can’t achieve their goal, no amount of digital polish will make it a good experience.

Joined-up journeys, not disconnected systems

On theme that stood out at DTX London earlier this month was the importance of mapping and managing the customer journey – understanding what customers are trying to do, where friction exists, and how internal processes support (or hinder) that experience.

It’s not enough to build another interface. True digital transformation requires breaking down silos, re-thinking workflows, and aligning systems around real customer needs. If the back-end can’t flex, the front-end experience will always be compromised.

The lesson

In the end, I’m sure my problem will sort itself out – BA will eventually delete my old email record, and I’ll open a new account. But the irony is clear: digital transformation done badly just creates new frustrations through modern channels.

Transformation isn’t about adding apps and chatbots. It’s about re-engineering the processes that sit beneath them so customers don’t end up stuck in digital limbo.

Featured image: created by ChatGPT.

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.

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…

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

Why Net Promoter Score (NPS) might not be the feedback tool you think it is

Earlier today, I received one of those “tell us how we did” emails from Churchill – the company I’ve used for home insurance for a few years now. Nothing unusual there; we’ve all had them. You can spot them a mile off – always a scale from 0-10 with a “how likely are you to recommend us” type of question. What caught my attention though was the way the feedback was framed and how my neutral score was interpreted as negative. It reminded me (again) why I think Net Promoter Score (NPS) is, frankly, overused and often misused.

What is NPS supposed to measure?

NPS was originally developed by Fred Reichheld at Bain & Company, with the noble aim of predicting customer loyalty based on a single question: “How likely are you to recommend us to a friend or colleague?”. Bain created a system to help companies earn customer loyalty and inspire employees with the idea that this would be a key factor for sales growth. The thinking was: if people are willing to stick their neck out and make a recommendation, they must really rate the product or service.

In theory? Sensible. In practice? Hmm.

A neutral score, treated as negative

I gave Churchill a 5 out of 10. Not because I had a bad experience – in fact, I’ve never made a claim. And that’s the point: I literally can’t rate how good their service is because I haven’t needed it. I pay my premium, they take my money, and (thankfully) we leave it at that. That’s a 5 in my book – neutral.

Apparently not.

Their automated system then asked me, “Why would you be unlikely to recommend Churchill?”. Because, in the NPS world, anything below a 7 counts as a detractor. So my middle-of-the-road score – which in British terms is essentially a polite nod of approval – flags me as someone with a grudge. That’s not only culturally tone-deaf, it’s also wildly misleading.

Cultural bias in customer feedback scoring

Let’s talk numbers for a moment. In the UK, where understatement is practically a national pastime, we rarely hand out 9s and 10s. Those are reserved for the truly exceptional – the sort of experience where someone goes so far above and beyond that we feel compelled to wax lyrical about them at dinner parties. A 7? That’s solid. Respectable. Better than most.

But in the land of NPS, that still doesn’t make you a “promoter”. NPS deems a 7 or an 8 as passive.

The real problem with NPS: it lacks context

This is where Net Promoter Score falls down. It takes a subjective experience and tries to quantify it with a crude scale that lacks nuance. Worse, it lumps “neutral” in with “actively dissatisfied,” which isn’t just lazy analysis – it can lead to poor decision-making.

There’s plenty of research that questions the validity of NPS as a predictor of business success. And its use today often bears little resemblance to the original intent. One such example is from the Journal of the Academy of Marketing Science, in a 2022 paper entitled “The Use of Net Promotor Score (NPS) to predict sales growth: insights from an empirical investigation“. That paper highlights methodological issues in the original research, in the NPS calculation method, and limitations in NPS’ predictive power and scope.

How NPS is misapplied in modern customer experience

NPS was meant to be a long-term loyalty indicator, not a knee-jerk reaction tool after every interaction. Yet these days it’s been reduced to a mandatory field at the end of every customer journey – from buying a sofa to updating your email address.

It’s become a checkbox exercise, often disconnected from the actual service experience. And that’s a shame, because meaningful feedback is still incredibly valuable – when it’s asked for in the right way, and interpreted with care.

We can do better than NPS

I’m not saying all customer feedback is pointless – far from it. Listening to your customers is essential. But let’s not pretend Net Promoter Score is a silver bullet. Context matters. Culture matters. And treating a nuanced response like mine as a black mark against your brand doesn’t do anyone any favours.

So Churchill, if you’re reading: I don’t dislike you. I’m just British.

Think about the end-user experience

This content is 1 year old. I don't routinely update old blog posts as they are only intended to represent a view at a particular point in time. Please be warned that the information here may be out of date.

I recently marked 30 years working full-time in the IT industry. That’s a long time. When I started, we didn’t all have laptops (I shared a PC in the office), we had phones on desks, administrators to help with our… administration, and work was a place where we went as well as a thing that we did.

Over time, I’ve seen a lot of change: new systems, processes, ways of working. But right now is the biggest of them all. For the last nine-and-a-half years, all of my work has been stored in one Office 365 tenant. Now it’s being migrated to another, as part of some cleanup from a merger/acquisition that took place a while ago.

I’m just a normal end-user

I’m just a user. Albeit one with a technical background. And maybe that’s why I’m concerned. During the Covid-19 pandemic, I was issued a new laptop and everything was rebuilt using self-service. It went very well, but this is different. There is no going back. Once my laptop has been wiped and rebuilt into the new organisation, there is no “old machine” to go back to if I incorrectly synced my data.

Sure, I’ve done this before – but only when I’ve left one employer to go somewhere else. Never when I’ve been trying to continue work in the same place.

People change management

To be clear, the migration team has been great. This is not your typical internal IT project – this is being run properly. There are end-user communications, assigned tasks to complete to help make sure everything goes smoothly, FAQs, migration guides. ADKAR is in full flow. It all looks like it should go swimmingly. But 30 years of working in tech tells me to expect the unexpected (plus a tendency to be over-anxious and to catastrophise). And modern security practices mean that, if I was to make a copy of all my data on an external drive, “just in case”, I’ll set all sorts of alarm bells ringing in the SOC.

I’ll have to roll with it.

The schedule

So, there’s the technical issues resolved – or at least put to one side. Next is the migration window. It runs for 2 weeks. But the second of those weeks is the school half term holidays in a sizeable chunk of the UK. I, for one, will be away from work. I also have an assignment to complete by the end of the month, all the usual pre-holiday preparations squaring work away, and this is whilst I have two days taking part in an AI hackathon event and two days when I’m on call for questions in relation to our Microsoft Azure Expert MSP audit. “I’m sorry, I can’t find that information right now because I’m rebuilding my PC and migrating between Microsoft 365 tenants” isn’t going to go down well.

In short, there is no good time for my migration. And this is what it’s like for “real” end-users in our clients’ organisations. When they don’t want to clear down their email or delete old data it’s (generally) not because they are awkward (well, not always). They have a job to do, and we (IT) are doing something with one of the tools that they use to do that job. There’s uncertainty about how things will work after the migration and they need to allocate time. Time that they may not have.

Walking in someone else’s shoes

All too often, us IT folks just say “it’ll be fine”, without understanding the uncertainty that we impose on our customers – the users of the systems that we manage. Maybe it’s good for me to stand in their shoes, to be a typical business end-user, to understand what it’s like to be on the end of an IT project. Maybe we should all do it more often, and then we can run better projects.

Featured image by Kosta from Pixabay.

Self-scan stress in Sainsbury’s. And why don’t UK supermarkets use electronic shelf labels?

This content is 1 year old. I don't routinely update old blog posts as they are only intended to represent a view at a particular point in time. Please be warned that the information here may be out of date.

Almost every Thursday morning, before I start work, I visit the town market to buy food. After that, I do the weekly supermarket shop. Most people can understand me shopping locally and supporting the market. The question I’m sometimes asked is why I don’t do the supermarket shop online? It’s partly because I’ve learned that the store is well-stocked on a Thursday morning and I can do the weekly shop in 20-30 minutes. There’s also an element of dissatisfaction with previous online supermarket shopping experiences.

I mostly shop at Sainsbury’s. There are some items that we get from Lidl in the next town (though there’s an Aldi locally now, so that may change) and I have to go to Tesco or Waitrose for some other items because the local Sainsbury’s is too small. I also use Costco. Basically, I know what I can get where, at what price/quality.

“SmartShop”

In Sainsbury’s, I use the SmartShop self-scanning technology. According to the Sainsbury’s website:

“SmartShop is the new way to shop at Sainsbury’s. Just scan, bag and go, it couldn’t be easier!”

I started to use this a few years ago, when Sainsbury’s ran a campaign to encourage its use. Then, just a few weeks ago, some tills were removed in our local store to enlarge the self-checkout area. I’ve also switched from using the app on my phone to an in-store handset as I found the barcode scanning to be more efficient.

Random checks

A few months ago, almost every shop was being selected for a “random” check. Sainsbury’s explains that:

“Sometimes customers can double scan an item by mistake, or an item might end up in your trolley that hasn’t been scanned properly. So from time to time we might ask you to have your shopping re-scanned by one of our colleagues.

These rescans are random and they’ll only happen at checkout.”

These were annoying (as it was a regular occurrence), but understandable, until one time the entire shop had to be re-scanned. One of the advantages of self-scanning is that you can carefully place your items in bags so they are not damaged. I watched as my items were re-scanned and roughly repacked for me. I took a deep breath and walked away.

I understand why stores do this. Shoplifting is a huge issue nationally, thought more of a problem in some stores than others. But this policy on self-scans is effectively saying “we think you might be stealing from us”. There’s no apology when no theft is found.

There is an argument that self-scan is also a cost saving measure for supermarkets. That needs to be weighed up against the shrinkage and the customer experience. Some stores simply won’t install self-scan in certain areas, because of the risk.

The “random” checks stopped for a while but today, I was selected again. It’s fair to say that I did not respond well. In fact, I was enraged. 12 September is not a great day for me (it would have been my late Father’s birthday) but I honestly don’t know if that was a factor in my anger when a full re-scan was required. I insisted on speaking to a manager – I don’t believe the scans are random and I’m sure there’s some pattern recognition on my shopping habits via my Nectar card. The last couple of weeks’ shopping was small (with one teenager away from home). This week I spent more, including alcohol, and it felt like I was being singled out.

Pricing errors

The irony is that, after the store re-scanned all my shopping, I found mistakes in their pricing! Far from me adding to Sainsbury’s shrinkage bill, they were not passing on advertised savings to customers.

Readers will probably be familiar with the concept of discounts for loyalty card holders. Tesco has Clubcard, Sainsbury’s has Nectar, other retailers have their own schemes too. These are controversial for some, but I’m comfortable accepting that I trade my data for cash. After all, I give data about my habits away all the time on the Internet, using “free” services (if you’re not paying for the product, you are the product).

I found that Sainsbury’s had not passed on a Nectar discount on one of my items. Furthermore, because the ePOS system was not configured with the correct price, it would presumably have been overcharging every customer who bought that item and used their Nectar card.

Then, later in the day, I spotted that some of the personalised Nectar offers from a SmartShop scan were not passed to me when I’d had the full shop scanned through a normal till. Those offers were actually a reason for me to buy multiple items, rather than just one. They had increased the volume of the sale, but I’d ended up paying the full price.

Both of these mistakes were corrected by staff but they shouldn’t have happened.

In summary, when Sainsbury’s systems suspected I might have been shoplifting, it actually turned out that they owed me money.

Teenage kicks

I started my working life in retail. As a teenager, I worked for Bejam (now Iceland), and then a few years at Safeway. It was mostly stacking shelves but also warehouse work and checkouts when the store was busy. I saw the change from manual pricing to ePOS with barcodes, and I worked on a number of store openings and refits. After I decided to go to Polytechnic instead of joining Safeway’s management programme, I came back in my holidays and worked night shifts. That period of my life taught me quite a lot about supermarket retail and, fundamentally, not much has changed since. Of course, there have been some developments – like just-in-time deliveries replacing in-store warehouse space and the creation of digital services such as online shopping and self-scan.

One thing that does seem to have changed though is the checks on price labels. At Safeway in the late ’80s and early ’90s, it was a full-time job to check every price in store and manage changes/promotions. If the shelf edge labels didn’t match the computer then the customers were charged the wrong price. That was taken seriously back then.

This attention to detail seems to be gone. I imagine it was a cost-cutting efficiency (as is self-service). Nowadays, I regularly spot pricing errors in Sainsbury’s and it usually leads to store staff removing errant shelf edge tags. And Sainsbury’s are not alone – the local Co-op and OneStop stores seem to have similar issues.

Electronic shelf labelling

So, why don’t UK supermarkets use electronic shelf labels (ESLs), like those seen in continental Europe? I did some basic analysis and it seems that early trials were inconclusive, with concerns around cost, technology and operational challenges. So, just like any IT system really.

On the other hand, the benefits include efficiency, dynamic pricing, customer information and sustainability. The Grocer reported in 2021 that ESLs were making a comeback but I’ve not seen much evidence to suggest it’s happening quickly.

So what might ESLs cost for a store like the one where I shop, which was only built 5 years ago?

My local Sainsbury’s store cost £3.3m to build and is 1610 square metres in size. A few prompts to an AI assistant has told me that:

  • A store this size can be expected to stock 20-25,000 product lines.
  • The cost of ESLs can vary depending on the brand and features but an investment for 10,000 lines would be around £50-80,000.

So, about £125-200,000 for a store this size (between 3.7 and 6% of the £3.3m budget) to have accurate pricing in store.

No business case?

The thing is, that, in addition to my teenage shelf-stacking, I have some IT experience of working in retail. When I was at Polo Ralph Lauren in the early 2000s it was a lot easier to justify application spend than infrastructure. If IT spend doesn’t add to the bottom line, then the business case is unlikely to be approved. And if stores make more money from advertising offers that are not applied, why would they invest in a system to display accurate pricing?

Call me a cynic, but could that be the real reason why UK stores haven’t invested in electronic ticketing?

Featured image: author’s own.

The Enterprise Architecture Stack

This content is 2 years old. I don't routinely update old blog posts as they are only intended to represent a view at a particular point in time. Please be warned that the information here may be out of date.

Over the years, I’ve written several posts about IT architecture. Whilst it seems that there is an increasing trend to call experienced IT folks “architects”, one of my core beliefs is that Enterprise Architecture is not the same as “architecting” IT at enterprise scale. Yes, creating an IT architecture that will scale to support a global organisation with thousands of users is “enterprise scale” – but it’s not Enterprise Architecture.

So what is Enterprise Architecture?

Like so many things in life, an illustration can really help describe a point. And, a few years ago, I came across an excellent Enterprise Architecture diagram from Dave Clark and Sophie Marshall. You can see it as the featured image at the top of this post and one of the reasons I like it so much is that it’s clear that the technology is only one of several factors in a whole stack of considerations.

I adapted it (under Creative Commons) but the basic premise of the diagram remained the same – step back from the problem and understand the organisation to consider its needs and requirements. We need to know what is needed before we can can consider solutions! Then, we should ask what good looks like. Don’t just dive in with technology.

Let’s take each layer in turn… and you’ll see that, right away, I added another layer at the top.

Purpose

The purpose is about why an organisation exists. It should be straightforward to answer but is hopefully more than “to deliver value to our shareholders”. A Council may exist to provide services (statutory and otherwise) to citizens. A retailer may exist to (make money and) provide the best selection of fashionable clothing at affordable prices. It’s entirely logical that the organisation’s culture will be strongly linked to its business motivations.

Many organisations will give an indication of their purpose on their website, or in their company report. For example, the IKEA vision, values and business idea sets out the organisation’s purpose in the form of:

  • A vision: “To create a better everyday life for the many people”; and
  • A business idea: “to offer a wide range of well-designed, functional home furnishing products at prices so low that as many people as possible will be able to afford them.”

Strategy

Strategy supports purpose by providing business ambition and goals – a direction in which to head. Storytelling and visualisation are techniques that can be used to communicate the strategy so that it’s well understood by everyone in the organisation. They can also help others who need to work with them (for example business partners). A useful tool for defining business strategy is the Business Model Canvas, based on the book by Alexander Osterwalder and Yves Pigneur.

Looking briefly at visualisation, Scott Berinato (@ScottBerinato)’s 2016 article for Harvard Business Review on Visualizations [sic] That Really Work stresses the need to understand the message you want to convey before you get down into the weeds. This blog post is a case in point – I want to show that Enterprise Architecture is much more than just technology. And I found a good visualisation to illustrate my point.

As for storytelling, I’ve seen some fascinating presentations over the years on how to tell a good story to bring a presentation to life. One of the most memorable was at a Microsoft MVP Event in 2017. Tony Wells used this example of how we tell stories to children – and how we (too) often communicate at work:

(I’m still practicing my storytelling technique, but Hubspot also has what it calls The Ultimate Guide to Storytelling.)

What, Who and How

What we do is a description of the products and services that the organisation offers – the business’ capabilities. These may be the value propositions in the Business Model Canvas but I would suggest they are a little more detailed. Strength/Weakness/Opportunity/Threat (SWOT) analysis can be a useful tool here too for identifying what could be done, though the emphasis is probably more on what is currently done, for now.

Who we do it for is about the consumers of the organisation’s products and services – understanding who the “users” are. Tools might include stakeholder maps and matrices, empathy maps, personas.

How it’s done is about understanding the methods and processes that deliver “the what” to “the who”. Journey maps, process flow diagrams, storyboards and SWOT analysis can all help.

Who does it is about the people, where they are located, and how the organisation is structured. In a world of remote and hybrid working it’s even more relevant to understand the (human) network and how it works.

Software, data and technology

Only after we’ve understood “the Business layers” (purpose, strategy and the what, who and how) can we move onto the IT. And that IT is more than just infrastructure:

  • The data models that support this. (There may a discussion to be had there about data, information, knowledge and wisdom but that’s a topic in itself.)
  • The software applications that are used to access that data.
  • And the underlying technology infrastructure.

Why is this important?

For many years, I was part of and then managed a team of people who were labelled “Enterprise Architects”. During that time, I argued that the term was aspirational and that most of the work we did was Solution Architecture. Maybe that was splitting hairs but we rarely got the chance to drive strategy, or to get involved in designing the organisational structure. Whilst we were experienced at IT, we still operated at the lower levels in the stack: business requirements driving software, data and technology decisions. We wanted to become trusted advisors, but for the most part, the work we performed for our clients was transactional.

My colleague Ben Curtis (/in/BenCurti5) has an excellent analogy built around perception and perspective. I hope he won’t mind me borrowing it:

  • Perception is about what meets the eye. Imagine you’re walking through a forest and come across a single tree. Your first impression of that tree – its size, shape, colour, and surroundings – is your perception.
  • Perspective is seeing the Forest and the Trees. Now, let’s say you climb to the top of a hill and look down at the entire forest. Suddenly, you see how all the trees are connected, how the sunlight filters through the leaves, and how animals move through the undergrowth. This bigger view – the perspective – gives you a deeper understanding of the forest as a whole.

Whilst this can be used to show the difference between an individual system and the complete view of an IT environment, I’d suggest that its also about how the IT environment is part of something much larger – an organisation of people and processes, supported by technology, that exists with a purpose and a strategy to make it happen. And that, is the Enterprise Architecture.

Related posts

Here are some posts I’ve written previously on IT architecture. I think this is the first time I’ve properly outlined what Enterprise Architecture means though:

Featured image: The Enterprise Architecture Stack, by Dave Clark and Sophie Marshall [source: Dave Clark on LinkedIn]