If your inbox just got hit with a wave of notifications from me, I apologize. (And if you are seeing a cluster of posts with the same timestamp, don’t worry, the matrix isn’t glitching.)
I am in the process of migrating a decade of writing from my old Blogger site to First Order here on Substack.
The standard marketing advice for this kind of move is to “curate.” To pick the top 10% of posts that make me look smart, prophetic, and polished, and quietly delete the rest. The advice is to present a version of history where I always knew the answer, always predicted the threat, and never had a bad take.
I decided not to do that.
Instead, I am bringing it all over. The good, the bad, and the posts that, frankly, I would write very differently today.
Why? Because in cybersecurity, and in leadership, context is everything. And you cannot have context if you delete the history.
The Log Files of a Career
In security operations, we have a golden rule: Don’t delete the logs.
(Okay, fine. I know the GRC team is hyperventilating about data minimization right now, and the CFO is staring at the Splunk bill. But metaphorically, work with me here. We want the data.)
Logs are messy. They are voluminous. 99% of them are noise. But when a breach happens, or when you are trying to understand how a system drifted into failure, those logs are the only truth you have. They show the pattern.
If I only showed you my thinking from 2025, you would see the result, but not the process. You wouldn’t see how I struggled with the transition from individual contributor to leader. You wouldn’t see how my view on “security awareness” shifted from blaming the user (early career) to fixing the system (now).
Keeping these old posts is my way of keeping the logs open, even the ones that violate the retention policy.
The Evolution of the “First Order”
This publication is called First Order because I believe in first-principles thinking. I believe in stripping away the corporate fluff and getting to the raw human dynamics that actually drive security and business performance.
But I didn’t start there.
When I look back at some of these older posts, I see a leader who was still searching for the right questions.
The Early Years: You might see posts that are hyper-focused on tools and tactics. I was looking for the “silver bullet” that would solve security. (Spoiler: It doesn’t exist.)
The Middle Years: You see a shift toward process and compliance. I thought if we just wrote better policies, people would follow them. (Spoiler: They don’t.)
The Now: The recent writing focuses on human systems; psychological safety, ego, burnout, and energy.
If I deleted the early stuff, I would be lying to you about the journey. I would be presenting the “Guru” archetype; the person who arrived fully formed with all the answers.
I don’t trust leaders who have no history of being wrong. I trust leaders who can show me the scar tissue and tell me what they learned from the wound.
Why “Legacy” Content Matters to You
So, why should you care about a post I wrote five years ago?
Because the problems we face in leadership are rarely new. They are just wearing different clothes.
The anxiety I wrote about regarding a cloud migration in 2018 is the same anxiety leaders feel about AI adoption in 2025. The tools change, but the human operating system remains exactly the same. We are still dealing with fear, ego, tribalism, and the need for safety.
By unpacking these boxes and putting them on the floor, dust and all, I hope to offer you something more valuable than “thought leadership.” I want to offer you a case study in evolution.
What to Expect Next
You will see a cluster of these posts hit the feed. Since I can’t retroactively change the timestamps on the platform, I’ve added a header to the top of each article noting its original publish date and source.
Treat them as archives, not breaking news. They are artifacts I’m preserving so the record stays complete, even if the notifications happen all at once.
Going forward, First Order will continue to push the edge. We will keep dissecting the uncomfortable intersections of leadership, mental health, and security strategy.
But we will do it standing on the foundation of 25+ years in the trenches.
Thank you for being here. Thank you for your patience while the dust settles. And thank you for reading, whether it’s a post from today, or a ghost from the archives.
Let’s keep building.