Rethinking thought leadership

I’ve never liked the term “thought leadership”. In fact, I hate it. My first run-in with it was back in 2010, when I was working for David Smith and Mark Locke in Fujitsu UK and Ireland’s Office of the CTO. Even then, we were pretty clear: you don’t get to call yourself a thought leader. That label is earned. Other people decide it for you, usually long after you’ve stopped trying to chase it.

Fast-forward to today, and “thought leadership” is still something marketing teams everywhere love to talk about. It’s also something I recognise as part of my job in the Node4 OCTO. But my unease with the term has never really gone away.

So when I came across some LinkedIn Learning training on “becoming a better thought leader” (and yes, even typing that makes my stomach turn), I braced myself. And then something interesting happened.

I was introduced to the idea of a thought reader.

A different take

The course explained it like this

A thought leader is an expert. The go-to person. The one with the depth, the scars, the experience, the opinions. All fine. We know that world.

But a thought reader is different. A thought reader is someone who pays attention to the world around them.

Someone who tracks what’s happening in the market, in politics, in technology, in society. Someone who can read the room, not just the textbook. Someone who can bring context rather than just content.

Not an ivory-tower specialist. Not a voice shouting into the void. But someone grounded in what’s actually going on.

It’s the person who joins the dots and says: “I see what’s happening here, and here’s what it might mean for you.”

And that resonated

Because unlike thought leadership, I think thought readership can be claimed. You can choose to be someone who stays curious, who pays attention, who reads widely and listens well.

And if I’m honest, that feels a lot closer to where I sit.

A definition worth noting

Along the way, I also stumbled across a piece from the University of Exeter Business School that tries to rescue the term “thought leadership” by giving it a clearer, more grounded definition. They describe it as:

“Knowledge from a trusted, eminent and authoritative source that is actionable and provides valuable solutions for stakeholders.”

And to be fair, that feels right. It talks about trust, action and value. It suggests the label is something you earn, not something you declare.

What I can claim

What I can claim, though, is that I spend a lot of time trying to understand what’s going on out there. Reading widely. Noticing patterns. Making connections. Understanding context so I can explain things in a way that’s useful.

Less “sage on a stage”, and more “person who’s done the research so you don’t have to”.

And that feels much more like a thought reader than a thought leader.

I still won’t claim to be a thought leader — that’s for others to decide.

But, from today, I might, occasionally, claim to be a thought reader.

And that feels much more honest.

A sense of community, on Remembrance Sunday

Every year, on the second Sunday in November, in common with many others up and down the country, the town where I live comes together. In Olney, around a thousand people gather in the Market Place – some in uniform, some in suits, some just in coats and scarves against the November chill.

We come to remember. Some are there for those who fell in conflicts past. Others come to support their children in youth organisations. Some stand beside friends or colleagues. Whatever the reason, we make the time to come together.

As we approach the hour, the traffic stops and the Last Post sounds. Then, as the clock strikes eleven, silence falls. For two minutes, the town pauses.

In that moment, it’s not about politics or religion or background. It’s about shared respect. About community. About remembering what was lost and valuing what we still have – the freedom, the friendship, the ability to stand side by side in peace.

And that sense of community matters more than ever. We live in a time when society feels increasingly divided – when algorithms on so-called social media feed us outrage and misinformation; when newspapers twist headlines to fit an agenda; when too much of life pushes us into an us-versus-them mentality. Yet, this morning, I saw the opposite. I saw a huge cross-section of our community come together – young and old, rich and poor – all standing side by side.

There was representation from the armed forces, police, fire service, youth groups, churches, schools, sports clubs, charities and the Women’s Institute. Each laying wreaths, but all sharing a common purpose.

Even in a town of fewer than 10,000 people, there were faces I rarely see – and some I don’t always see eye-to-eye with. But today, none of that mattered. We were all there for the same reason, and there’s mutual respect in that.

We may be fortunate here – a small market town in what was once Buckinghamshire, close to areas of high employment and relative comfort – but not everyone here has privilege. Some are struggling. Yet today, that didn’t matter either. For a short while, everyone stood together.

This year’s remembrance feels especially poignant. Eighty years since the Second World War, conflict still rages in too many parts of the world. Nationalism is on the rise again – flags waved with more anger than pride – and it’s easy to forget what those who served fought so hard for.

It would have been easy to stay at home this morning. But I’m glad I walked down to the Market Place. Because what I saw was the very best of our community – people united by remembrance, respect and gratitude.

When the Reveille sounded and life resumed, there was a quiet pride. A reminder that community isn’t just something that happens online or when it’s convenient. It’s something we live, together, year after year. And today, it was lived in remembrance of those who served – and those who never came home.

Featured images: author’s own.

OpenAI Atlas and the blurred line between search and synthesis

OpenAI’s new Atlas browser has certainly got people talking.

Some are excited — calling it a “Google killer” and a glimpse of how we’ll all navigate the web in future. Others are alarmed — pointing to privacy concerns, data collection prompts, and the idea of handing over browsing history and passwords to an AI company.

Jason Grant described his experience as “a giant dark pattern.” Matthew Dunn was more balanced — impressed by the features, but quick to warn businesses off using it. He’s right: if you wouldn’t paste confidential data into ChatGPT, you probably shouldn’t browse the company intranet through Atlas either.

Search vs. synthesis

When people say Atlas will replace Google, they’re missing the point. It’s not search in the traditional sense.

A search engine indexes existing content and returns links that might answer your question. Atlas — and systems like it — go a step further. They synthesise an answer, combining what’s on the web with what’s in your conversation and what they’ve “seen” before.

As Data Science Dojo explains, search engines are designed to find information that already exists, while synthesis engines are designed to create new information.

Or, as Vincent Hunt neatly puts it: “Search gives you links. Synthesis gives you insight.”

That shift sounds subtle, but it changes everything: how we ask questions, how we evaluate truth, and how much we trust the output.

As I said in my recent talk on AI Transformation at the Bletchley AI User Group, “Generative AI is not a search engine. It doesn’t retrieve facts. It generates language based on probabilities.” Google doesn’t know the truth either — it just gives you the most common answer to your question — but AI goes a step further. It merges, rewrites and repackages information. That can be powerful, but it’s also risky. It’s why I believe the AI-generated results that many search engines now return as default are inferior to traditional results, based on actual information sources.

Without strong governance, AI may be repurposing outdated content or drawing on biased data. Transparency matters — because trust is the real currency of AI adoption.

Why Atlas matters

In OpenAI’s announcement, Atlas is described as “bringing ChatGPT anywhere across the web — helping you in the window right where you are.”

It’s not just a search bar. It can summarise pages, compare options, fill out forms, or even complete tasks within websites. That’s a very different paradigm — one where the browser becomes a workspace, and the assistant becomes a collaborator.

A step towards agentic AI?

So, is Atlas really agentic? In part, yes.

Agentic AI describes systems that can act rather than just answer. They plan, execute and adapt — working on your behalf, not just waiting for your next prompt.

OpenAI’s own notes mention an agent mode that can “help you book reservations or edit documents you’re working on,” as reported by The Verge.

Others, like Practical Ecommerce, describe Atlas as “a push into agentic browsing — where the browser is now an AI agent too.”

It’s not full autonomy yet — more like assisted agency — but it’s a clear step in that direction.

Why it still needs caution

As exciting as it sounds, Atlas isn’t designed for enterprise use. It raises valid concerns about data privacy, security, and trust. You wouldn’t give a work browser access to sensitive credentials, and the same logic applies here.

As Matthew Dunn notes, ChatGPT “produces better output than Copilot, but with less security and privacy.” That’s a fair trade-off for some users, but not for organisations handling confidential information.

So, by all means, explore it — but do so with your eyes open.

And yes, I’ll still give it a try I decided not to install it after all

For all the justified concerns about privacy and data handling, I’ll still give Atlas a try. Even though I have Copilot at work, I pay for ChatGPT Pro for activities that are not directly related to my confidential work.

Atlas might extend that usefulness into how I browse, not just how I prompt. The key, as ever, is knowing what data you’re sharing — and making that a conscious choice, not an accidental one.

[Updated 24/10/2025: After writing and publishing this post, I decided not to install Atlas. There are a lot of security concerns about the way the browser stores local data, which may easily be exploited. Nevertheless, both OpenAI Atlas and Perplexity Comet are interesting developments, and the narrative about the differences between an AI search (synthesis) and a traditional search is still valid.]

Featured image: created by ChatGPT.

Tonight’s talk at the Bletchley AI User Group, and a new AI Resources page

Tonight, I’ll be giving a talk on AI Transformation at the Bletchley AI User Group.

Slides

I gave up on bit.ly QR codes/links to OneDrive* and hosted the slides on my own website. They are also embedded below:

20251021_Mark_Wilson_Bletchley_AI_UG_AI_Transformation

Alternatively, you can save my bandwidth by picking them up from my OneDrive instead!

Feedback

If you were at the talk, some feedback would be much appreciated, please. There’s a Microsoft Form for that!

Resources

I also reached a point where I was seeing more and more new AI content every day and I just… had… to… stop… adding… more… into… the… presentation. A few minutes vibe coding with ChatGPT gave me a static single page website with a search capability and a JSON-based data source. And ChatGPT even did the analysis, classification and tagging for me…

Anyway, my new AI Resources page is here and will be updated as and when I come across new artefacts.

*What was wrong with bit.ly?

Recent changes at bit.ly that mean they:

  • No longer support custom domain names on a free account (bye-bye mwil.it); and
  • Require a paid account to redirect short links after creation

The challenge I had was that I wanted to include a QR code for people to scan when I present the content, but that created a circular issue: I upload the slides, create a QR code, add the QR to the slides, upload the slides, the link changes… etc., etc.

(I wouldn’t mind paying for bit.ly, except that their plans are a bit expensive. This is a free website that creates a handful of short links each month and subscription fatigue is real…)

When software meets steel: agentic computing in the real world

I flew to Dublin last week as part of the team representing Node4 at a Microsoft Sales and Partner summit. But the event itself is not really relevant here — what struck me was the amount of robot tech I interacted with on the trip.

At Heathrow Terminal 5, I took one of the self-driving pods that connect the business car park with the terminal. Inside, Mitie’s robot cleaning machines were gliding quietly between travellers. And in Dublin Airport, our restaurant meal was brought out by a robot waitress called Bella.

It was only later that I realised these weren’t isolated novelties. They’re part of a pattern: we’re used to talking about agentic computing in a software sense but it also presents itself through hardware in the physical world.

The journey begins: autonomous pods at Heathrow

The Heathrow pods have been around for over a decade, but they still feel futuristic. You call one on demand, climb in, and it glides directly to your stop. There’s no driver, no timetable, and almost no wait. The system uses far less energy than a bus or car, and the whole thing is orchestrated by software that dispatches pods, avoids collisions and monitors usage.

It’s a neat demonstration of automation in motion: you make a request, and a machine physically carries it out.

Quiet efficiency: Mitie’s cleaning “cobots”

Inside the terminal, Mitie’s autonomous cleaning robots were at work. These cobots use sensors and cameras to map the concourse, clean for hours, then return to charge before resuming their shifts. They handle repetitive tasks while human staff focus on the harder jobs.

You could easily miss them — and that’s the point. They’re designed to blend in. The building, in a sense, is starting to help maintain itself.

Meet Bella: the robot waitress

In Dublin, things got more personal. The restaurant’s “BellaBot” rolled over with trays of food, blinking her animated eyes and purring polite phrases. The QR code was hard to scan (black text on a brass plate lacks contrast) and the ordering app didn’t work so human staff had to step in — but the experience was still surreal.

Bella’s design deliberately humanises the machine, using expressions and voice to make diners comfortable. For me, it was a bit too much. The technology was interesting; the personality, less so. I prefer my service robots less anthropomorphised.

This tension — between automation and human comfort — is one of the trickiest design challenges of our time.

A pattern emerges

Taken together, the pods, cleaning cobots and BellaBot reveal different layers of the same trend:

  • Mobility agents like the Heathrow pods move people and goods.
  • Maintenance agents like Mitie’s cobots quietly maintain infrastructure.
  • Service agents like BellaBot interact directly with us.

Each one extends software intelligence into the physical world. We’re no longer just automating data; we’re automating action.

And none of them works completely alone. The pods are overseen by a control centre. The cobots have human supervisors. Bella needs a human backup when the tech fails. This is automation with a safety net — hybrid systems that rely on graceful human fallback.

From airports to high streets

You don’t have to go through Heathrow or Dublin to see the same shift happening.

Closer to home, in Milton Keynes and Northampton (as well as in other towns and cities across the UK and more widely), small white Starship robots deliver groceries and takeaway food along pavements. They trundle quietly across zebra crossings, avoiding pedestrians and pets, using cameras and sensors to navigate. A smartphone app summons them; another unlocks the lid when your order arrives.

Like the airport pods, they make autonomy feel normal. Children wave to them. People barely notice them anymore. The line between software, service and physical action is blurring fast.

The thin end of the wedge

These examples show how automation is creeping into daily life — not replacing humans outright, but augmenting us.

The challenge now isn’t capability; it’s reliability. Systems like Bella’s ordering app work brilliantly until they don’t. What matters most is how smoothly they fail and how easily humans can step back in.

For now, that balance still needs work. But it’s clear where things are heading. The real frontier of AI isn’t in chatbots or copilots — it’s in physical agents that move, clean, deliver and serve. It’s software made tangible.

And while Bella’s blinking eyes may have been a step too far for me, it’s hard not to admire the direction of travel. The future isn’t just digital. It’s autonomous, electric, slightly quirky – and already waiting for you in the car park.

Featured image: created by ChatGPT.

Delayed by the signs that are supposed to keep us moving

After a late flight back into Heathrow last night, I just wanted to get home. It should have taken about an hour. Instead, it took almost two and a half — a slow-motion crawl through the Home Counties, lit by flashing amber lights, unclear diversions and matrix signs that seemed to know nothing about what was actually happening on the ground.

After I had negotiated the first closure on the M25 (J18-20), National Highways had used the variable signs to warn of closures on the A1 — miles away and irrelevant to traffic heading north and about to turn onto the M1. What they didn’t mention was the full closure of the M1 (J9-11) which was just a few junctions ahead (I joined at 6A and saw nothing until after the J7/8 exit). When I finally reached the cones and flashing arrows, it was too late to do anything but follow the long, meandering diversion through half of Bedfordshire.

The irony is that the technology is all there. We have live traffic feeds, sensors, cameras, and signs capable of displaying accurate, timely information. But it only works if the people behind the systems use it well. Otherwise, the signs are just expensive noise.

And once you start seeing inconsistent or irrelevant messages, you stop trusting them. We’ve all driven under a gantry showing a sudden 40 mph limit for no apparent reason. Or a “Fog” warning on a perfectly clear morning. (I was once told by a former highways engineer that’s often down to spiders nesting in the sensor housing — which makes sense, but doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.)

The result is predictable. When technology over-warns, people tune it out. It’s the same problem you see in many digital systems — from workplace dashboards to AI assistants. Data without context or accuracy doesn’t help anyone. Trust is built on relevance, timeliness and credibility. Without those, the message just becomes background noise.

I’m not against the tech — quite the opposite. These systems can make our roads safer and our journeys smoother. But they only do that when they’re properly configured, maintained and used by people who understand what the data means. Otherwise, we end up ignoring the very systems designed to help us — and taking the scenic route home when all we really want is our own bed.

Featured image: created by ChatGPT.

Transformation theatre: when digital isn’t enough

I’m not a frequent flyer. Indeed, I avoid flying if there’s an alternative (like high speed rail) but I’ve had a British Airways account for years – probably over twenty. But, when I tried to log in ahead of today’s flight to Dublin, it seemed to have vanished. My PIN didn’t work, the password reset email never arrived, and WhatsApp customer support confirmed the bad news: my account had been closed.

No problem, I thought – just reopen it. Except I couldn’t. The advisor explained that although the account didn’t exist anymore, my email address was still in their system. To open a new account, I’d need to use a different email address.

I told them that I only have one address. Because, frankly, I shouldn’t need to create another just to fit around their IT quirks.

Eventually, the advisor said they’d request my email be deleted so I could open a new account “after a few days”.

In the meantime, I can still manage my booking using just my surname and booking reference – which always feels worryingly insecure. (Fun fact: behind almost every flight is the SABRE system that dates back to 1964).

When transformation is skin-deep

This is a classic example of where “digital transformation” falls short. The airline has done the visible stuff – shiny mobile apps, chatbots, WhatsApp support – but the underlying customer processes are unchanged.

I can interact through modern digital channels, but I’m still dealing with the same rigid, legacy back-end that can’t handle a simple scenario like reopening a dormant account. The transformation has been cosmetic, not structural.

It’s a reminder that customer experience isn’t about channels; it’s about outcomes. If a customer can’t achieve their goal, no amount of digital polish will make it a good experience.

Joined-up journeys, not disconnected systems

On theme that stood out at DTX London earlier this month was the importance of mapping and managing the customer journey – understanding what customers are trying to do, where friction exists, and how internal processes support (or hinder) that experience.

It’s not enough to build another interface. True digital transformation requires breaking down silos, re-thinking workflows, and aligning systems around real customer needs. If the back-end can’t flex, the front-end experience will always be compromised.

The lesson

In the end, I’m sure my problem will sort itself out – BA will eventually delete my old email record, and I’ll open a new account. But the irony is clear: digital transformation done badly just creates new frustrations through modern channels.

Transformation isn’t about adding apps and chatbots. It’s about re-engineering the processes that sit beneath them so customers don’t end up stuck in digital limbo.

Featured image: created by ChatGPT.

Interim, permanent, or fractional. What’s the difference?

A few weeks ago, I found myself in a LinkedIn comment thread debating a word that’s popping up more often in 2025: fractional.

Someone had written, “Isn’t ‘fractional’ just a new word for ‘contractor’?”

That’s a fair question. But I don’t think the two are equivalent.

I replied that contractors are typically full-time additions brought in to handle a short-term increase in demand – a burst of resource to deliver a project or fill a gap. A fractional professional, on the other hand, is someone who works with a business part-time and on an ongoing basis, bringing specialist expertise without the cost of a permanent hire. It’s not just semantics — it’s about how organisations think about accessing capability.

Permanent roles

Permanent employment still makes sense when you need someone embedded in the organisation, driving long-term initiatives, and living the company’s culture day-to-day. They’re part of the team for the long haul — shaping strategy, developing people, and being measured on sustained outcomes.

But permanent roles come with commitments: salaries, benefits, career development, and (in some cases) inertia. In a fast-moving world, it’s not always the right model for every leadership or specialist need.

Interim roles

Then there are interim professionals — experienced hands who parachute in to steer the ship during a time of transition. They’re often brought in to stabilise a team, deliver change, or hold the fort while a permanent hire is found.

Interims tend to be full-time for the duration of an assignment. They bring authority, clarity, and pace, but their job is usually to deliver outcomes and then move on. They tend to be pragmatic, sleeves-rolled-up leaders who thrive in uncertainty.

(The WB-40 podcast recently did a great episode on this topic — it’s well worth a listen: Episode 334: Interim).

Fractional roles

And then there’s the rise of the fractional model — especially at C-suite level. A fractional CIO, CTO, or CMO might work one or two days a week with several organisations, providing ongoing strategic input, coaching internal teams, and ensuring continuity of expertise.

It’s ideal for growing businesses that need senior leadership but don’t yet need (or can’t justify) a full-time role. For the individual, it offers variety and flexibility. For the business, it’s a cost-effective way to access top-tier skills.

Not just semantics

So no, “fractional” isn’t just a trendy word for “contractor”. Each of these models — permanent, interim, and fractional — serves a different need. And yes, any of them could be engaged on a contract or freelance basis, but the intent and structure differ.

As I prepare to meet with and present to a group of fractional and interim CIOs and CTOs later this week, I’m reminded how work itself continues to evolve. The lines are blurring — but that also means there’s more choice than ever in how organisations access the skills they need, when they need them.

Featured image: created by ChatGPT.

A couple of Garmin Fenix tips and tricks

I’ve had my Garmin Fenix 6 Pro smartwatch for a few years now. I left my Apple Watch for the Garmin and have never looked back. I find that it works far better for me, as a pure sports watch rather than trying to be everything.

Sure, Garmin Pay wasn’t supported in the UK (it may be now, I haven’t checked). But I always have my phone with me for Apple Pay. I’ve got the apps I need on the watch (like my Parkrun barcode) and the sports tracking is much better than Apple’s – both in accuracy and variety. I’m sure Apple has improved, but my Garmin has been bomb-proof for years. And the battery life is amazing – nearly two weeks, though I rarely let it go that long.

But, a couple of nights ago it decided not to track my sleep. That was odd, and then I noticed it wasn’t recording my heart rate either. So I rebooted the watch. It’s the first rule of IT support – have you tried turning it off and on again?

I don’t think I’ve ever had to do that in all the years I’ve owned it. Something like four years of uptime. Not bad!

One thing that does annoy me is the charge cable. It’s not a standard USB-C (or USB-anything). Instead, it uses a proprietary four-pin connector on one end, and USB-A on the other. Over time, the connector becomes loose and won’t stay attached to the watch.

The trick here is to gently give it a pinch with some needle-nosed pliers, halfway along the long sides. Close the metal back in and the connector holds firm again. Reliable charging resumes.

Do you have a Garmin smartwatch? Got any tips or tricks to share?

Featured image: created by ChatGPT.

The Chatham House Rule: there is only one!

It’s quite common to hear the phrase “this event will be run under Chatham House Rules”. The meaning of the phrase is that what is said in the room should be not be attributed to anyone present.

Chatham House is an independent policy institute and a trusted forum for debate and dialogue.

But they only have one rule. This is how it’s described on their website:

“When a meeting, or part thereof, is held under the Chatham House Rule, participants are free to use the information received, but neither the identity nor the affiliation of the speaker(s), nor that of any other participant, may be revealed.”

I can be a bit of a pedant, and I couldn’t help myself pointing it out today. Yes, I really am that much fun to work with. I will try to do better in future…