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

Posted on By Mark Wilson

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

Posted on By Mark Wilson

“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

Andalucía remembered

Posted on By Mark Wilson

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

Posted on By Mark Wilson

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.

Monthly retrospective: May 2025

Posted on By Mark Wilson

I’ve been struggling to post retrospectives this year – they are pretty time consuming to write. But, you may have noticed the volume of content on the blog increasing lately. That’s because I finally have a workflow with ChatGPT prompts that help me draft content quickly, in my own style. (I even subscribe to ChatGPT now, and regular readers will know how I try to keep my subscription count down.) Don’t worry – it’s still human-edited (and there are parts of the web that ChatGPT can’t read – like my LinkedIn, Instagram and even parts of this blog) so it should still be authentic. It’s just less time-consuming to write – and hopefully better for you to read.

On the blog…

Home Assistant tinkering (again)

I’ve been continuing to fiddle with my smart home setup. This month’s project was replacing the ageing (and now unsupported) Volvo On Call integration in Home Assistant with the much better maintained HA Volvo Cars HACS integration. It works brilliantly – once you’ve jumped through the hoops to register for an API key via Volvo’s developer portal.

And no, that doesn’t mean I can now summon my car like KITT in Knight Rider – but I can check I locked it up and warm it up remotely. Which is almost as good. (As an aside, I saw KITT last month at the DTX conference in Manchester.)

Software-defined vehicles

On the subject of cars, I’ve been reflecting on how much modern cars depend on software – regardless of whether they’re petrol, diesel or electric. The EV vs. ICE debate often centres on simplicity and mechanics (less moving parts in an EV), but from my experience, the real pain points lie in the digital layer.

Take my own (Volvo V60, 2019 model year). Mechanically it’s fine and it’s an absolute luxury compared with the older cars that my wife and sons drive, but I’ve seen:

  • The digital dashboard reboot mid-drive
  • Apple CarPlay refusing to connect unless I “reboot” the vehicle
  • Road sign recognition systems confidently misreading speed limits

Right now, it’s back at the body shop (at their cost, thankfully) for corrosion issues on a supposedly premium marque. My next car will likely be electric – but it won’t be the drivetrain that convinces me. It’ll be the software experience. Or, more realistically, the lack of bad software. Though, based on Jonathan Phillips’ experience, new car software contains alarming typos in the UI, which indicates a lack of testing…

Thinking about the impact of generative AI

This update isn’t meant to be about AI – but it seems it is – because it’s become such a big part of my digital life now. And, increasingly, it’s something I spend more time discussing with my clients.

AI isn’t new. We’ve had robotic process automation (RPA), machine learning, data science and advanced analytics for years. I even studied neural networks at Poly’ in the early 1990s. But it’s generative AI that’s caught everyone’s imagination – and their budgets.

In Episode 239 of the WB-40 podcast (AI Leadership), I listened to Matt Cockbill talk about how it’s prompting a useful shift in how we think about technology. Less about “use cases” and more about “value cases” – how tech can improve outcomes, streamline services, and actually help achieve what the organisation set out to do.

The rush to digitise during COVID saw huge amounts of spending – enabling remote working or entrenching what was already there (hello, VDI). But now it feels like the purse strings are tightening, and some of that “why are we doing this again?” thinking is creeping back in. Just buying licences and rolling out tools is easy. Changing the way people work and deliver value? That’s the real work.

Meal planning… with a side of AI

I’ve also been experimenting with creating an AI-powered food coach to help me figure out what to eat, plan ahead, and avoid living off chocolate Hobnobs and toasted pitta. Still early days – but the idea of using an assistant to help nudge me towards healthier, simpler food is growing on me.

Reading: The Midnight Library

I don’t read much fiction – I’m more likely to be found trawling through a magazine or scrolling on my phone – but Matt Haig’s “The Midnight Library“ really got me. OK, so technically, I didn’t read it – it was an impulse purchase to use some credits before cancelling my Audible account – but it was a great listen. Beautifully read by Carey Mulligan, it’s one of those rare books that manages to be both dark and uplifting. Some reviews suggest that not everyone feels the same way – and my reading it at a time of grief and loss may have had an impact – but I found it to be one of my best reads in a long time.

Without spoiling anything, the idea of a liminal space between life and death – where you can explore the infinite versions of yourself – is quietly brilliant. Highly recommended. So much so that I bought another copy (dead tree edition) for my wife.

On LinkedIn this month…

It’s been a lively month over on LinkedIn, with my posts ranging from AI hype to the quirks of Gen-Z slang (and a fair dose of Node4 promotion). These are just a few of the highlights – follow me to get the full experience:

  • Jony and Sam’s mysterious new venture
    I waded into the announcement from Jony Ive and Sam Altman with, let’s say, a healthy dose of scepticism. A $6.5bn “something” was teased with a bland video and a promo image that felt more 80s album cover than product launch. It may be big. But right now? Vapourware.
  • Is the em dash trolling us?
    I chipped in on the debate about AI-written content and the apparent overuse of em dashes (—) –often flagged as an “AI tell” – usually by people who a) don’t understand English grammar or b) where LLMs learned to write. (I am aware that I incorrectly use en dashes in these posts, because people seem to find them less “offensive”.) But what if the em dash is trolling us?
  • Skibidi-bibidi-what-now?
    One of the lighter moments came with a post about Gen-Z/Gen-Alpha slang. As a Gen-Xer with young adult kids, I found a “translator” of sorts – and it triggered a few conversations about how language evolves. No promises I’ll be dropping “rizz” into meetings just yet. Have a look.
  • Politeness and prompting
    Following a pub chat with Phil Kermeen, I shared a few thoughts on whether being polite to AI makes a difference. TL;DR: it does. Here’s the post.
  • Mid-market momentum
    Finally, there have been lots of posts around the Node4 2025 Mid-Market Report. It was a big effort from a lot of people, including me, and I’m really proud of what we’ve produced. It’s packed with insights, based on bespoke research of over 600 IT and Business leaders.

Photos

A few snaps from my Insta’ feed…

https://www.instagram.com/markwilsonuk/p/DJr5Ui8N94u

For more updates…

That’s all for now. I probably missed a few things, but it’s a decent summary of what I’ve been up to at home and at work. I no longer use X, but follow me on LinkedIn (professional), Instagram (visual) and this blog for more updates – depending on which content you like best. Maybe even all three!

Next month…

A trip to Hamburg (to the world’s largest model railway); ramping up the work on Node4’s future vision; and hopefully I’ll fill in some of the gaps between January and May’s retrospectives!

Featured image: created by ChatGPT

Who gets paid when the machines take over?

Posted on By Mark Wilson

Yesterday evening, I was at the Bletchley AI User Group in Milton Keynes. One of the talks was from Stephanie Stasey (/in/missai) (aka Miss AI), titled “Gen AI vs. white collar workers and trad wives – building a robot to make my bed”.

It was delivered as a monologue – which sounds negative, but really isn’t. In fact, it was engaging, sharp, and packed with food for thought. Stephanie brought a fresh perspective to a topic we’re all thinking about: how AI is reshaping both the world of work and the way we live at home.

The labour that goes unnoticed (but not undone)

One part of the talk touched on “trad wives” – not a term I was especially familiar with, but the theme resonated.

If you’d asked my wife and I in our 20s about how we’d divide up household tasks, we might have offered up a fair and balanced plan. But real life doesn’t always match the theory.

These days, we both work part-time – partly because unpaid labour (childcare, cooking, washing, cleaning, all the life admin) still needs doing. And there don’t seem to be enough hours when the laptop is closed.

The system isn’t broken – it’s working exactly as designed

The point I’ve been turning over for a while is this: it feels like we’re on the edge of something big.

We could be on the brink of a fundamental shift in how we think about work – if those in power wanted to make radical changes. I’ll avoid a full political detour, though I’m disheartened by the rise of the right and how often “ordinary people” are reminded of their place. (My youngest son calls me a champagne socialist – perhaps not entirely unfairly.)

Still, AI presents us with a rare opportunity to do things differently.

But instead of rethinking how work and value are distributed, we’re told to brace for disruption. The current narrative is that AI is coming for our jobs. Or a variation on that theme: “Don’t worry,” we’re told, “it won’t take your job – but someone using AI might”. That line’s often repeated. It’s catchy. But it’s also glib – and not always true.

I’m close enough to retirement that the disruption shouldn’t hit me too hard. But for my children’s generation? The impact could be massive.

What if we taxed the agents?

So here’s a thought: what if we taxed the AI agents?

If a business creates an agent to do the work a person would normally do – or could reasonably do – then that agent is taxed, like a human worker would be. It’s still efficient, still scalable, but the benefits are shared.

And, how would we live, if the jobs go away? That’s where Universal Basic Income (UBI) comes in (funded by taxes on agents, as well as on human effort).

Put simply, UBI provides everyone with enough to cover their basic needs – no strings attached. People can still work (and many will). For extra income. For purpose. For contribution. It just doesn’t have to be 9-to-5, five days a week. It could be four. Or two. The work would evolve, but people wouldn’t be left behind. It also means that the current, complex, and often unjust benefits system could be removed (perhaps with some exceptions, but certainly for the majority).

What could possibly go right?

So yes, the conversation around AI is full of what could go wrong. But what if we focused on what could go right?

We’ve got a window here – a rare one – to rethink work, contribution, and value. But we need imagination. And leadership. And a willingness to ask who benefits when the machines clock in.

Further reading on UBI

If you’re interested in UBI and how it might work in practice, here are some useful resources:

Featured image: author’s own.

Nancy’s legacy: how losing someone can wake you up to life

Posted on By Mark Wilson

Today is Nancy Wallace’s funeral. Nancy was my [wife’s] sister-in-law – and although I can’t be there in person (Nancy lived in the US, and I need to be in the UK this week), I’ve found myself pausing. Reflecting. Remembering.

Even though we lived on different continents and didn’t see each other often, I always enjoyed Nancy’s company. She was warm, supportive, and carried with her a perspective shaped by a life well lived – both through her travels and the way she connected with people. More than once, Nancy gently challenged my thinking or offered a different perspective. She had that gift.

Writing this post – something deeply personal yet that’s being shared with the world – I struggled to find the right words to describe our relationship, but this passage from her obituary captured it perfectly:

“Nancy’s friends, family, and colleagues will remember her as a radiant spirit, always present, always caring, and always eager to bring people together. As a friend beautifully commented, we never thought that Nancy would leave the party early. But apparently, she had other places to be and people to befriend.”

I can just hear her saying that – “other places to be and people to befriend”. That was Nancy.

Her death came as a shock to us all. She was only 59. Fit, active, full of plans. And that’s the thing – when someone like Nancy dies unexpectedly, it shakes you. It makes you stop. It forces you to think about life – which inevitably means thinking about death.

This isn’t the first time I’ve had one of these moments…

What my Dad’s death taught me

When my Dad died suddenly at 63, it knocked me sideways. I was in my late-30s and pretty sedentary – I had the kind of lifestyle that comes with a desk job and not enough movement. But that event triggered something. I threw myself into fitness, ran regularly and lost over 20kg as part of my “fit at forty” challenge. Later, I transitioned from running to cycling and over the following decade or so I rode hundreds of miles across the UK and Europe: London to Paris; coast to coast across England; the full length of Wales.

But old habits crept back in. More accurately, my sugar addiction – and yes, it really is an addiction – reasserted itself. The weight came back. By 50, I was in therapy, dealing with anxiety, depression, and a deeply complicated relationship with food.

This isn’t a pity post

Let me be clear: I’m not writing this for sympathy.

I have a good life. A loving wife. Two fantastic sons, both full of ambition and potential. And I’m back in a job that I enjoy. Financially, we’re not rolling in cash, but we’re not scraping by either.

Several years ago, I moved to a four-day working week – a conscious choice to reclaim some time. Not just to rest, but to live a little more. To be present rather than just productive.

And yet, I struggle.

Because I care. Because I want to give my family stability. Because I remember watching my Dad get made redundant in his 50s and the resulting challenges finding work again. Because – even with a stable job – the cost of living keeps creeping up. Because I’ve spent so much time and energy making sure we’re OK if something goes wrong, that I’ve often forgotten to enjoy what’s going right.

And because, the older I get, the harder it is to shift the weight. It’s not just about counting calories. It’s far more complex than that – hormones, metabolism, mental health, habits. A lifetime of habits and patterns.

So, what does this have to do with Nancy?

Nancy’s was just six years older than me, and only four short of the age my Dad was when he died. And, while I’d like to think I still have still plenty of life in me, the truth is that none of us really knows how long we’ve got.

Nancy and my brother-in-law, Simon, had plans. Big ones. But she never got to see them through.

We only get one life. And I’ve realised I need to start living mine more fully.

For the last couple of decades, my focus has been on family, mortgage, job security. Sensible, responsible stuff. Important stuff. But I’ve also been holding back. Waiting for the “right time” to do the things I dream of – travel more, work differently, embrace new experiences. There is a balancing act – between building up the pension pot and actually living the life I’m saving for.

Nancy’s passing has reminded me that the “right time” might never come unless I make it come.

So I need to make some changes. Tackle the sugar addiction. Get my fitness back. Be around long enough – and well enough – to support my sons as they step out into their adult lives. And then? Maybe it’s time to be a little selfish. Or at least, to live a little differently. Lighter. More intentionally.

Nancy may have left the party early, but she left behind a message – that it’s time to start living. Message received, loud and clear.

Featured image, from the family collection – Nancy, and her beloved canine companion, Ziggy, by the water – where she loved to be.

A decade at risual… and beyond at Node4

Posted on By Mark Wilson

Today marks ten years since I joined risual – now part of Node4 – a milestone that’s prompted a bit of reflection.

Not “institutionalised” – just evolving

Ten years is a long time in any role – especially in tech. At the interview back in 2015, I was asked if my previous 9.5-year tenure meant I was “institutionalised”. I pushed back – not because I’d stayed in one company, but because I’d held a variety of roles and worked with a broad range of end clients. That kept things fresh.

That same pattern has played out in my current employment. I started out at risual as a Consultant (that was the rule, regardless of background – everyone joined as a Consultant). From there, I moved into an Architecture role, and then – somewhat reluctantly – into management. I didn’t chase people leadership, but faced the choice: manage or be managed. Leading the Architecture team brought new challenges – and more than a few grey hairs.

A new chapter with Node4

After risual was sold in 2022, I found myself on a new path again – and in 2023 I moved into Node4’s Office of the CTO. This is not my first time in an OCTO and it’s a role that plays far more to my strengths, drawing together technical insight and strategic thinking, and communicating that to clients and colleagues alike.

Of course, my tenure hasn’t all been smooth sailing. At one point quite early on, I was told (by one of risual’s founding directors) that I was “approaching career peak”. I’ve never quite accepted that – not out of vanity, but because I know I still have more to contribute. Maybe I’ve lost some of the naivety of my 20s, but I’ve gained a more seasoned, grounded view.

Big ambitions, bumpy roads

I joined risual because I wanted to escape the constraints of a large enterprise and make a difference. And I believe I did – even if not always as effectively as I’d hoped. Some moments had real impact; others came with frustration. Anyone who’s lived through rapid business growth (followed by contraction), a global pandemic, and a business sale will understand the pressure. Strong personalities, shifting priorities, and an increasing focus on EBITDA all shaped that period.

But I learned a huge amount in those years – about myself, about the business, and about the kind of leader I am (and want to become). I worked with some brilliant people and saw first-hand how good – and bad – decisions shape real organisations.

From grief to growth

After the sale to Node4, some colleagues grieved the loss of the risual they knew. Others struggled to adapt – something I’ve also seen in other acquired businesses. But one colleague said something that stuck with me: “going somewhere else won’t bring risual back – risual no longer exists – but you can stick around and see what you can make of the new opportunity.”

That struck a chord. I’d already chosen to stay – not to chase what was lost, but to build something new at Node4. It hasn’t always been easy, but I feel like I’m in a good place again. I’m using my skills in ways that have real impact. I’m working with great people. And I’m helping to shape the direction, not just responding to it.

Celebrating the journey – and looking ahead

Ten years on, I’m not “institutionalised”. If anything, I’ve become more aware of the need to adapt, stay curious, and choose work that aligns with my values and strengths.

I’ve had the privilege of working with fantastic people, navigating all kinds of challenges, and growing along the way. It’s been a decade full of lessons, laughter, the occasional sigh of exasperation – and more than a few late-night slide decks.

And now? I’m proud of what I’ve done so far – and excited for what’s still to come.

Here’s to ten years… and the next chapter still to be written.

Featured image by ChatGPT.

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

Posted on By Mark Wilson

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.

Monthly retrospective: January 2025

Posted on By Mark Wilson

Last year I tried a thing – another attempt at weeknotes. Weeknotes became monthly retrospectives. Monthly retrospectives sometimes became every two months… and then they dried up completely last summer. I’m sorry. I was busy and, to be honest, this blog is not as important to me as it once was.

But then, an anonymous commenter said that they miss them and asked me to fill the gap to the end of 2024. That might happen (or it might join the great list of unwritten blog posts in the sky), but let’s have another go at the present. So, 31 January, 2025. Monthly retrospective…

At work

Things have really stepped up a gear at work. Last year I started to work on a future vision around which the Office of the CTO could structure its “thought leadership” content. Some important people supported it and I found myself co-presenting to our executive board. The next steps will remain confidential, but it’s no bad thing for me. And, the follow-on work has given me a lot of exposure to some of the marketing activities – my last fortnight has been full of market analysis and ideal client profiles.

But the last fortnight was not just those things. I had the hairbrained idea that, as productivity is is one of the outcomes we seek for our clients, maybe we should “do something for National Productivity Week”. After writing a series of blog posts (see below), and a fun day recording video content with our brand team, it feels like a one-man social media takeover. In fact, we had so much content that some of it will now have to go out next week. But that’s OK – productivity is not just for one week of the year. These are the posts that are live on the Node4 website today:

And the last post, next week, will be about building sustainable productivity approaches.

There are also a couple of videos up on LinkedIn:

And, earlier in the month (actually, it sneaked out on YouTube before Christmas but I asked for it to be pulled for an edit), there was this one. Not my best work… but it did lead to the purchase of a teleprompter which has made later videos so much easier!!!

Learning

Also on the work front, this month I completed my ILM Level 5 Award in Leadership and Management. Node4 runs this as part of a 7-month programme of workshops, with two coursework assignments that relate to four of the workshops. Over the last 7 months, I’ve covered:

  • Developing your personal leadership brand.
  • Inclusive leadership and motivation skills.
  • Managing and implementing strategic change.
  • Developing a High-performance team culture.
  • Manager as a coach.
  • Personal impact and emotional intelligence.
  • High impact presentations.

At home

Home Automation

I bought myself a Shelly temperature and humidity monitor for the Man Cave. It’s Home Assistant compatible, of course, so lets me use cheap overnight energy to stop the cabin from getting too cold/damp.

Also on the home automation front, I picked up some cheap Tapo P100 smart plugs. Like my no-name Chinese ESP32-based plugs, they are a better form factor than my older Kasa HS100/110 plugs so they don’t take space from the adjacent socket. But they lack any kind of reporting for energy usage so I should have got a pack of the slightly more expensive P110 models instead. I also struggled to add them to Home Assistant. They were recognised but wouldn’t authenticate, unless I reset my TP-Link password (which seemed to be the workaround – even if the password was the same)!

Getting away from it all

Aside from the tech, Mrs Wilson and I got away to London for a weekend, to celebrate a friend’s birthday. We were almost blown away by the tail of Storm Éowyn at Primrose Hill viewpoint but had fun (I’d never been before, but it’s in so many films!).

Tomorrow, I’m off to France for the UCI Cyclocross World Championships. Not competing of course (and disappointed that British Cycling is not sending a Women’s team or an U23 Men’s team). Just spectating. And probably consuming quite a lot of beer. And frites.

Writing

There have been some personal blog posts this month too:

In pictures

Some snaps from my Instagram: