meanwhile
The space where operations actually happen. We build Endeavour Operations Software for the teams who live there, and an Operator who lives there with them.
The space where operations actually happen. We build Endeavour Operations Software for the teams who live there, and an Operator who lives there with them.
Most engagements start with a mess: documents nobody can find, dashboards nobody trusts, a "workflow" that lives in someone's head. We tidy the mess, then automate the parts that stay tidy.
We think most software is made by people who've never had to use it at 4:30pm on a Friday. Our approach is to write the operating manual before the code, and keep each iteration small enough that a person can hold it in their head.
Longer-form pieces: half essay, half field notes. Written at the pace they need to be written at. Yes, you can subscribe; no, we will not email you about product updates.
Operator reads the whole file before the meeting. It remembers last month. It does not invent deadlines or hallucinate orders. If it doesn't know, it says so.
A handful of people who have run operations at startups, consultancies, and one strange non-profit. Not a huge team. Not planning to become one.
Most of the damage in an operation happens in the quiet middle, after a thing is decided but before anyone is willing to call it done. This is a short letter about how we try to stay awake in that interval.
Why we published the missing pieces of Australia's AI standards, in the open - and what that makes us.
A note on the year so far. The models got much better this year, and we spent almost all of our time on the part that comes after them.
This month it stopped being a thing that only runs here.
Endeavour is what the software is called. It's a quiet system of record (the place where your operations actually live) with Operator running through it the way a long-tenured employee runs through a filing cabinet.
It's not a rebrand of a dashboard. It's not a Slack bot. It's the thing that remembers last Tuesday and reminds you, without being prompted, that the invoice for the Thursday order hasn't been reconciled.
Between the decision you made on Monday and the consequence that arrives on Friday, the work happens.
A one-page intent memo goes out before every engagement. Most come back with at least one crossed-out line. That line, it turns out, is the whole job.
Two-week cycles, one-page write-ups, a Friday demo you can attend or skip. No sprints named after planets. No burndown charts.
This isn't a joke; it's an operating principle. Bored engineers cut corners; bored operators miss details. We protect the interestingness.