The replatform everyone wants. The staging site full of placeholder text. The dev agency waiting on content, content waiting on sign-off, sign-off waiting on the MD who's in back-to-back meetings. Nobody's blocking it, and it's blocked.
The offer, so you don't have to scroll: one owner, from kickoff to go-live.
Monday, 11am.
The project started with a workshop and a Miro board and real energy. That was March. The dev agency is technically on target for a scope that quietly shrank in June. Nobody can say that out loud yet.
Content is “in progress,” which means three people have drafts and one has left the company. The product data was migrated in August; it has been re-migrated twice since. Each agency call ends with an action list that resets.
In the status call, someone asks the date. The answer is a reflex now, “six weeks”, and everyone nods, and you realise nobody in the room, including you, believes it.
It's nobody's fault and it's everybody's job. Digital projects live or die on the boring middle (sign-offs, data decisions, the one person whose approval unlocks three workstreams), and the boring middle has no owner.
Transformation projects don't need more meetings. They need one owner with a plan and the nerve to chase.
Content sign-off. Data mapping. Redirects. The cookie banner. UAT that isn't just the project team clicking their own favourites. A website launch is a decision factory, and nobody set up the production line.
Twenty years of projects, told honestly. The Receipt stories are mine and verifiable. The Pattern stories are composites: details changed, lessons intact.
I held the £2m programme budget: writing scopes, running reviews, cancelling the suppliers who drifted. You learn fast which projects live: not the ones with the best decks, the ones where someone on the client side owns the decision log. When I build now, I build what I wished existed then.
The site that was six weeks away for five months is a genre, not an incident. Content “in progress” since spring. A staging server full of placeholder text. Everyone billing, nobody blocked, officially. Rebuilds don't stall on code. They stall on the fifty decisions nobody scheduled.
I built my own platform, then launched to it, and sold 232 courses through it in four months. Client and builder in one chair. I felt what every MD feels in go-live week, and I had the scope to fix it in the same head. That's the seat I bring.
Twenty years running enterprise programmes at BT scale. £1.5m largest single deal; critical paths, steering groups and real dates, held for a full year at 100% of target.
I've run the whole launch myself (platform, emails, ads, checkout): 232 course sales in four months. I know what every week of that calendar feels like from the inside.
I've held the £2m programme budget on the other side of the table: writing the scopes, choosing the suppliers, cancelling the ones who drift. I know what "nearly there" means from both chairs.
Projects end in decisions: sign-off, buy-in, adoption. Twenty years of getting to yes without pressure means the decision actually gets made, in writing, and stays made.
"I run projects the way I wanted them run when I held the budget. That's not a slogan; it's a specification, learned from the most expensive seat in the room."
Everything that's left, in order, with an owner and a date on every line. One page: if it doesn't fit, the plan isn't finished. Everyone can see what "done" means, including you.
Every line has a name against it, mostly mine. Status is offered before it's asked for, so nobody spends their week chasing updates that never arrive.
Red, amber, green, without the politics. Bad news travels in 24 hours; good news waits for the weekly. A plan nobody trusts is worse than no plan at all.
Go-live is the midpoint, not the finish line. Handover pack, walkthrough, and a team that knows exactly what happens on day 31, because delivery that doesn't stick isn't delivery.
The numbers above, the launches behind them, and a public ledger of the whole journey: applications, rejections, results, lessons. The highlight reel is boring; the delivery is the evidence.
You bring the project (stalled, spinning or starting) and I'll tell you where the decisions are queueing, what the double-run is costing, and the first three moves. If I can't help, I'll say so and point you somewhere better.
A pitch. There's nothing to buy on the call except a decision, and you'll know inside ten minutes whether I'm the person to run this.
Start to finish: how the client was found, the need proved, the option proposed, the work delivered.
One plan, one decision log, one owner who chases. Go-live dates that survive contact with reality, because they were built from what's true, not what's hoped.
Book the 20-minute callYou'll know inside ten minutes. · Every number on this page is verifiable.