Questioning time-tested practices

🧠 Are Best Practices Overrated? I was on a podcast today and said I loved my role because I get to write the playbook vs follow someone else's! Consider this. 🦒 Best practices are often treated as gospel—tried-and-true methods that promise stability and efficiency. But here’s the catch: they’re based on past success, not future opportunity. And if you’re aiming to innovate, disrupt, or push boundaries, best practices might actually limit you. Here’s why: 👉 Best practices reinforce the status quo. They’re designed to minimize risk and ensure predictability. That’s valuable for stability, but if your goal is to break new ground, you can’t rely solely on yesterday’s playbook. 👉 Innovation thrives on experimentation. Disruptive ideas often emerge from questioning or outright breaking best practices. Think about how Netflix eliminated late fees, Tesla bypassed traditional dealerships, or OpenAI approached AI accessibility. These companies didn’t follow—they led. 👉 Best practices can create a false sense of security. You might feel like you’re doing everything “right,” but in fast-moving industries like #AI, #blockchain, #Quantum or #Web3, what’s “right” today might already be outdated tomorrow. 👉 Context matters. What works for one company, team, or market may not work for yours. Copying success without adapting to your unique strengths or challenges often leads to mediocrity—not greatness. So, what’s the alternative? ⁉️ Rather than asking, “What are the best practices?” ask: 1. What’s never been tried before? 2. What’s unique to us? 3. How can we design for the future, not the past? 💁♀️ The takeaway: Best practices are a great starting point—but they’re not the finish line. The companies that thrive are the ones willing to break the rules, reinvent processes, and set new standards. What do you think? Are best practices holding us back, or are they still essential for growth? Share your thoughts in the comments! ⬇️

Have you ever stopped to ask why we do certain things in testing? There’s a pattern I see across teams. Rules that no one can clearly explain. Checks that exist simply because they always have. Take the classic example: Asking users to enter their password twice. Most teams still believe this is about security. It isn’t. It started as a workaround for old systems that couldn’t handle typos. Long before password managers, autofill, or instant resets were common. Yet the rule survived. That’s the risk with anything we call a “best practice”. It often stays because it’s familiar, not because it still makes sense. As testers, our role isn’t to guard inherited rules. Our role is to question them. 1. What problem was this solving? 2. Does that problem still exist? 3. Is this helping users or just slowing them down? Real quality comes from curiosity, not checkbox testing. What’s one testing rule in your process that deserves a fresh look?

I remember my first HR role. Fresh out of school, excited, and ready to make an impact. But then I sat in on my first annual performance review… An employee was hearing feedback about something that happened nine months ago. They looked shocked. Confused. A little defeated. That’s when it hit me: How can we expect people to grow when we don’t talk to them until it’s too late? That wasn’t the only thing that felt off. We only hired people who “fit in.” We praised long hours over smart results. And we called it “best practice.” Today, I know better. 👉 Here are 3 practices I believe we must leave behind: 📌 Annual reviews with no feedback in between People deserve ongoing conversations, not year-end verdicts. 📌Hiring for culture fit instead of culture add Sameness feels safe. But diversity fuels innovation. 📌Measuring productivity by hours worked Time spent does not equate value delivered. Let’s reward outcomes, not burnout. We owe it to our teams to evolve. And if you’re still holding on to these practices? It’s time to let them go. Now, I want to hear from you: HR Professionals: What’s one outdated HR practice you’ve moved on from? Employees: What’s one thing your company could do differently to help you grow, feel valued, and perform at your best? Let’s start a conversation about what really works in today’s workplace.👇 ~JK🫶 #HumanResources #StrategicArchitect #HRLeadership #HRTransformation #PeopleBeforeProcesses #WorkPlaceStrategy #ModernHR #FutureofWork

When the Science Match the Signs: Evidence-Based Treatment Protocols This latest JAVMA publication https://lnkd.in/gmKA3KjB shows how evidence-based veterinary medicine should be grounded in results from controlled studies rather than anecdotal treatment protocols. This resonates strongly with my insistence on evidence-based zoo/wildlife/exotic pet medicine. This study in JAVMA examined commonly prescribed prokinetic drugs in rabbits (metoclopramide, cisapride, pyridostigmine, and capromorelin) and found none produced significant changes in fecal production, food intake, or other clinical parameters. Despite these medications being recommended for the treatment of gastrointestinal stasis of rabbits in current formularies, the evidence doesn't support it. This challenges us to reconsider protocols many of us have followed for years, as these medications may add cost and stress without providing benefit. While further studies specific to rabbits with gastrointestinal stasis are needed, successful long-term and short-term management of this complex syndrome should focus on diagnosis of the root cause of the stasis and management of the associated pain respectively. Reviewing treatment protocols requires us to: Look carefully at clinical outcomes - Do we have evidence of actual improvement, or are we seeing natural resolution? Do not discount the ability of our patients’ ability to heal in spite of the myriad of medications we throw at them. Question historical practices - Just because we learned it in school (or the “latest” continuing education event) doesn't mean it's still supported by current research Consider patient welfare - Sometimes stopping an ineffective treatment reduces stress with no downside I've found that resistance to changing established protocols often comes from institutional history rather than medical evidence. But our commitment to evidence-based practice must overcome our comfort with familiar routines. What other treatment protocols in zoo/wildlife/exotic pet practice need fresh evidence review? Sometimes professional growth means letting go of what we've always done. #VeterinaryMedicine #EvidenceBasedPractice #ExoticAnimalMedicine

Best practices have a shelf life. And in metallurgy, we rarely check the expiration date. When a practice becomes "standard", it usually means one thing: it worked. Consistently enough, long enough, for enough people to stop questioning it. But the conditions that made it work? Those change. → A raw material sourcing approach built for predictable supply chains looks very different in a fragmented market. → A quality control method designed for one scrap chemistry may quietly underperform as input mix shifts. → An energy optimization strategy that made sense at one price level can become inefficient at another. The problem with best practices isn't that they were wrong. The problem is that we tend to trust them past the moment they stopped being right. In a stable industry, that lag is manageable. In an industry moving through structural change - in raw materials, energy, regulation, sustainability pressure - that lag becomes a risk. Not a dramatic, visible risk. A quiet one. The kind that shows up in margins, in rejected batches, in sourcing decisions that made sense three years ago and don't quite anymore. I think the most underrated skill in operations today isn't adopting new practices, but knowing when to question the old ones. ↳ Which "best practice" in steel or raw materials do you think it's time to question?

Questions, especially the uncomfortable kind, are what truly unsettle the status quo, disrupt the assumptions and help us reimagine. They uncover blind spots, challenge ingrained beliefs, and spur the sort of breakthrough thinking that mere incremental improvements can’t reach. A disciplined questioning uncovers flawed assumptions before they derail the strategy. It reveals unseen opportunities by challenging conventional wisdom.  It ignites curiosity within teams, spurring innovation not through command but through inquiry. This is a skill, and it requires cultivating a mindset of perpetual skepticism - consistently doubting the convenient narratives that we become comfortable believing. It's recognizing that deeply held organizational beliefs, if left unquestioned, can quietly sabotage progress. Here are three ways that helped me develop my questioning practice: 1. Interrogate your successes, not just your failures. We instinctively scrutinize setbacks but rarely question successes. Yet, today's success often creates tomorrow's blind spot. 2. Question the questions themselves. I consistently reflect on whether I’m asking the right questions—not just good questions, but strategically valuable ones. 3. Prioritize questions that expand perspective rather than confirm bias. Confirmation bias is seductive because it simplifies decisions, aligning neatly with existing views. I intentionally seek out questions that provoke debate and discomfort. Our role is not to arrive swiftly at reassuring answers, but rather to keep our intellectual discomfort alive and productive. It's within this state of persistent inquiry—uncomfortable, challenging, yet ultimately clarifying—that breakthrough thinking emerges and transformative leadership truly takes shape.

I used to think tradition was sacred in medicine. Until I watched it cause unnecessary suffering. Let me take you back to the start of my career. Picture a crowded respiratory ward. Middle of winter. A young man came in with a spontaneous pneumothorax. The textbook said, “Insert a chest tube. Admit. Wait for days.” And so, as a junior, that’s what I did. He stayed for nearly a week. Each day, I watched him gaze longingly at the world outside. Each day, I fielded his questions. When could he go home? Would he always have this pain? Why did it take so long? I had no good answers. I just followed the 'standard of care.' But it never sat right with me. Years later, during my advanced training in Canada, I saw something different: patients were operated on straight away. They smiled more. They recovered faster. Their lives didn’t grind to a halt. The data was there. The outcomes were good. So why, even now, do so many hospitals stick with the old way? The answer is rarely evidence. It’s habit. It’s comfort. It’s inertia dressed up in a white coat. If you’re a fellow doctor or clinician, ask yourself: when did you last truly examine your pneumothorax pathway? Are you treating tradition, or are you treating the patient? Here’s what I see all the time: → Routine chest tube for every case ↳ Even small, stable pneumothoraces. → Unnecessary admission ↳ Even when surgery is safer and faster. → Weeks off work or school But we can do better. The evidence for less invasive, patient-friendly management is there. Yet, change is slow. Why? Because it’s easier to do what we’ve always done. Because guidelines are only as good as the people willing to update them. Because questioning tradition makes some uncomfortable, I get it. I’ve been there. But our patients deserve better than comfort zone medicine. They deserve care that’s tailored, evidence-based, and truly compassionate. It’s not about being radical. It’s about being responsible. Evidence-based care should never be a tickbox exercise. It’s a way of thinking. Of questioning. Of refusing to accept “because we’ve always done it this way.” If you’re in healthcare, I challenge you: Next time you see something, pause. Ask why you’re choosing that approach. Is it really for the patient? Or is it just easier for you? Tradition can be a comfort. But it can also be a trap. Our duty is to break free when our patients need us to. Have you challenged the standard this year? I want to hear your stories.

Holding the Map Upside Down to See New Paths In coaching, we often follow familiar routes—methods and approaches we’ve come to rely on because they’ve worked before. But what if we’re missing better paths by sticking to what we think we know? What if, instead of forging ahead with confidence, we need to flip the map and challenge our own perspective to uncover blind spots? Growth as a coach often requires us to rethink what we believe to be effective. It’s not about questioning our competence but recognizing that no approach is perfect and that every context brings new variables. The game evolves, players evolve, and so should we. But how often do we truly interrogate our methods? • Do we seek feedback from players or colleagues on what’s working—and more importantly, what isn’t? • When things go wrong, do we consider how our approach might have contributed, or are we quick to blame external factors like player effort or execution? • Are we actively looking for fresh ideas or perspectives that might disrupt our comfort zones? Holding the map upside down might feel uncomfortable at first—it’s natural to want certainty. But the most transformative learning often comes from questioning, re-evaluating, and even unlearning practices that no longer serve the players in front of us. This could mean: • Experimenting with different communication styles to see what resonates better with individuals. • Reevaluating session plans to ensure they align with outcomes rather than just delivering a “well-organized” session. • Asking yourself if you’re coaching players to develop long-term problem-solving abilities—or just teaching them short-term solutions. For coach developers, the challenge is even greater. If we’re not modeling this self-reflection and adaptability ourselves, how can we expect the coaches we mentor to embrace it? So, the next time you’re out on the field or working with a team, pause and consider: • What’s one aspect of my coaching I’ve never questioned but probably should? • Who could provide me with feedback that might disrupt my thinking in a meaningful way? • How can I ensure I’m not just relying on what I’ve always done but continuously evolving my practice? The best coaches aren’t the ones who claim to have all the answers but those willing to ask new questions. Turning the map upside down might just reveal paths you never knew existed. #CoachYasThoughts #CoachingPerspective #CoachDevelopment #PlayerCentred

“Stop Pulling Coaches Down…..” Most coaching professions claim to value development, yet very few tolerate scrutiny. That contradiction sits at the heart of a recent reflection I had while listening to the Talent Equation podcast. I have, on multiple occasions, been criticised for questioning coaching practices publicly. The response is often predictable; critique is framed as negativity, disagreement is labelled as disruption, and challenging ideas is positioned as stepping out of line. Within this context, it was reassuring to hear Stuart Armstrong articulate a perspective that is largely absent in mainstream coaching discourse. He highlighted a fundamental principle: if ideas are placed into the public domain, they should be open to scrutiny. This is not an attack on individuals, but a necessary condition for professional growth. In contrast, the coaching landscape often demonstrates a reluctance to engage with critique, despite consistently promoting values such as development, reflection, and learning. This reveals a deeper inconsistency. Coaches frequently claim to support evidence-informed practice, yet default to tradition when challenged. They advocate for innovation, yet reinforce conformity through social validation. They promote player development, yet resist examining the effectiveness of their own methods. Such tensions suggest that the issue is not a lack of knowledge, but a resistance to having that knowledge questioned. From an academic perspective, this is problematic. In established disciplines, progress is underpinned by processes such as peer review, critical debate, and methodological challenge. Ideas are not protected; they are tested. Claims are not accepted based on authority or experience alone; they are evaluated against evidence and alternative explanations. Coaching, if it is to be considered a profession, must operate under similar principles. The discomfort associated with critique is therefore not a flaw in the system, but a necessary feature of it. Without critical dialogue, coaching risks becoming an echo chamber in which practices are validated through repetition rather than effectiveness. In such environments, poor methodologies persist, innovation is suppressed, and the gap between research and practice continues to widen. Consequently, the issue is not that coaching is being criticised too much, but that it is not being critiqued enough. If the profession is serious about evolving, then coaches must be willing to have their ideas examined, challenged, and, where necessary, rejected. This is not a threat to coaching identity; it is the foundation of its credibility. The question, therefore, is not whether critique should exist, but whether the profession is mature enough to engage with it.

My younger self would hate how I code now. Here's why that's a good thing. During a conversation couple of days ago, a friend asked me "If you had to build an in-memory cache, how would you do it?" I thought I knew the answer. After all, I'd been coding for years. But as I started designing it on paper, something unexpected happened. I realized how much my approach had changed over time. 8 years ago, I would've jumped straight into coding a complex system. Today? I took a step back and asked myself: 𝟭. 𝗖𝗮𝗻 𝘄𝗲 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗥𝗲𝗱𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗰𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗱? • Younger me would've scoffed. "Build it yourself!" he'd say. How hard could it be? • But experience taught me: use off-the-shelf when possible. 𝟮. 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗺𝘂𝗺 𝘄𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱? • I used to love adding features.  • Now I know: Reliability trumps bells and whistles every time. 𝟯. 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝗳𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝘄𝗲 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻? • In the past, I'd spend weeks perfecting before deploying.  • Now I aim for MVP and learn from real usage. 𝟰. 𝗖𝗮𝗻 𝘄𝗲 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗮 𝘀𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗮𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗰𝘆 𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗮 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲? • Complexity used to excite me.  • Now it scares me. Simple often outperforms complex in the real world. 𝟱. 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘄𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲𝘀 𝘂𝗽𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗻𝘁? • I once thought dynamic allocation was always better.  • Experience showed me: failing fast saves night calls. 𝟲. 𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝘄𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝗺𝗶𝘁𝘀? • "The sky's the limit!" was my motto.  • Now I know limits prevent surprises (and outages). 𝟳. 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝘄𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗲𝘀𝘁? • Testing was an afterthought.  • Now it's built into the design from day one. 𝟴. 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘄𝗲 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲? • I used to fly blind.  • Now I embed performance counters everywhere. These practices aren't just theory. They're battle-scars from countless projects, sleepless nights, and hard-learned lessons. And they've transformed how I approach every coding challenge. The result? Cleaner code. Fewer bugs. Happier teammates. Better sleep. That's the power of experience-driven engineering. It's not about knowing more. It's about knowing what matters. 𝙋.𝙎. 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙟𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙮? 𝘿𝙧𝙤𝙥 𝙖 𝙣𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨! #founderstory #lessons #developer #founder #startup #growthhacks