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Tennis court in autumn

Principles

I think clearly when I separate three questions: what matters, what’s true, and what I’m willing to do about it. I think most of the friction in my personal and professional life comes from confusing these questions and assuming their answers are clearer than they are.

First: Values set direction. Evidence sets method.

“Should we?” is a question about values. More data cannot answer it.

“Can we?” is a question about what can be done. Experiments, measurement, and repeated attempts can answer it — slowly and imperfectly.

So I try to answer each question in the right way:

  • Route "should" upward (to values, identity, responsibility).
  • Route "can" downward (to practice, prototypes, tests, and feedback).

From there: Capabilities are discovered, not declared.

I don't trust self-images—mine or anyone else's.

"I can do X" is a scientific claim: it becomes real through repeated attempts under stated conditions, with honest accounting of failures.

Constraints matter, and failure teaches. But I try to focus on building capability: expanding what I can reliably do, rather than only reducing what I avoid.

Then: Codify what works.

When something proves true repeatedly, I turn it:

  • into a principle when it requires judgment,
  • into a system when it can be made deterministic, following fixed rules.

This makes knowledge useful in practice: fewer decisions require fresh willpower each time.

But always: Protect what matters from what's measurable.

Metrics are useful, but they're not neutral.

What’s visible tends to become “real,” and what’s “real” tends to govern our decisions. I try to keep slow commitments that cannot be measured — care, integrity, meaning — from being displaced by fast-moving measures that stand in for them.

Therefore: Earn autonomy. Don't gamble for it.

More freedom should come from demonstrated capability and tighter feedback loops, rather than from pretending risk is virtue.

A Sikh triad for knowledge creation

I connect three practices from Sikh tradition with how we create knowledge:

Naam Japna — humility (honesty about what we know)

Humility is the beginning of science.

It's the stance that says: I might be wrong; reality gets a vote; my model is not the world.

Practically: keep a log, look for disconfirming evidence, update without drama.

Kirat Karna — hard work (experimentation)

Knowledge is built, not wished into existence.

Hard work means running the trials: building prototypes, practicing, repeating attempts, and measuring results.

Practically: choose a method, do the work, repeat until the signal is real.

Vandh Chakna — sharing (letting others test and use the result)

A result that can't be shared isn't stable knowledge—it's personal luck.

Sharing makes claims available to others, who can test them, extend them, and build on them.

Practically: publish what you made, teach the method, share the credit.

humility → experiment → share → collective capability.

Science, at its best, uses discovery to expand what we can reliably do together.

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These principles inform the work I do with organizations and the writing I publish.