Wagile: In an iterative world, is there still a place for Waterfall

So Agile. It’s the buzzword du jour, the management mantra, the thing everyone’s been talking about for at least 10 years. Apparently, it is the antidote to all our project woes. Because, you know, Waterfall is so last century. And so, it seems, is cognitive function.

To be honest, Waterfall had a good run. Planning everything upfront, meticulously documenting every single detail, then… waiting. Waiting for the inevitable train wreck when reality collided with the perfectly crafted plan. It was like building a magnificent sandcastle, only to have the tide laugh maniacally and obliterate it. Ah fun times at Ridgemont High (aka RBS).

Agile, on the other hand, is all about embracing the chaos. Sprints, stand-ups, retrospectives – it’s a whirlwind of activity, a constant state of flux. Like trying to build that sandcastle while surfing the waves. Exhilarating? Maybe. Efficient? Debatable. Sane? No comment.

The Agile manifesto talks about “responding to change over following a plan.” Which is excellent advice, unless the change involves your entire development team suddenly deciding they’ve all become Scrum Masters or Product Owners. Then, your carefully crafted sprint plan goes out the window, and you’re left wondering if you accidentally wandered into a performance art piece.

And don’t even get me started on the stand-ups. “What did you do yesterday?” “What are you doing today?” “Are there any impediments?” It’s like a daily therapy session, except instead of delving into your inner demons, you’re discussing the finer points of code refactoring. And the “impediments”? Oh, the impediments. They range from “the coffee machine is broken” to “existential dread” (which is a constant in software development). It’s a rich tapestry of human experience, woven with threads of caffeine withdrawal and the gnawing fear that your code will spontaneously combust the moment you deploy it.

But the stand-up is just the tip of the iceberg, isn’t it? We’ve got the sprint planning, where we all gather around the backlog like it’s a mystical oracle, divining which user stories are worthy of our attention. It’s a delicate dance of estimation, negotiation, and the unspoken understanding that whatever we commit to now will inevitably be wildly inaccurate by the end of the sprint. We play “Planning Poker,” holding up cards with numbers that represent our best guesses at task complexity, secretly hoping that everyone else is as clueless as we are. It’s like a high-stakes poker game, except the only prize is more work.

Then there’s the sprint review, where we unveil our latest masterpiece to the stakeholders, praying that they won’t ask too many awkward questions. It’s a bit like showing your unfinished painting to an art critic, except the critic also controls your budget. We demonstrate the new features, carefully avoiding any mention of the bugs we haven’t fixed yet, and bask in the fleeting glow of (hopefully) positive feedback. It’s a moment of triumph, quickly followed by the realization that we have another sprint review looming in two weeks.

And let’s not forget the retrospective, the post-mortem of the sprint. We gather in a circle, armed with sticky notes and a burning desire to improve (or at least to vent our frustrations). We discuss what went well, what went wrong, and what we can do differently next time. It’s a valuable exercise in self-reflection, often culminating in the profound realization that we’re all just trying our best in a world of ever-changing requirements and impossible deadlines. It’s like group therapy, except instead of leaving feeling lighter, you leave with a list of action items and a renewed sense of impending doom. Because, you know, Agile.

But, amidst the chaos, the sprints, the stand-ups, there’s a glimmer of something… maybe… progress? Just maybe, Agile isn’t completely bonkers. Perhaps it’s a way to navigate the ever-changing landscape of software development, a way to build sandcastles that can withstand the occasional rogue wave. Or maybe it’s just a really elaborate way to procrastinate on actually finishing the project.

Either way, one thing’s for sure: it’s certainly more entertaining than Waterfall. And who knows, maybe in the process, we’ll all be forced to downgrade our cognitive functions to “basic operating level.” Who needs advanced cognitive functions when you have Agile and AI?

But amidst the gentle ribbing and self-deprecating humour, there is a serious point here. Agile, like any methodology, isn’t a magic bullet. It’s a tool, and like any tool, it can be used effectively or ineffectively. The key is understanding where Agile truly shines, where it needs to be adapted, and where – a touch of Waterfall might actually be the right approach.

That’s where I come in. With years of experience navigating the Agile landscape (and yes, even surviving a few Waterfall projects in my time), I can help your organisation cut through the jargon, identify the real pain points, and implement solutions that actually deliver results. Whether you’re struggling with sprint planning, drowning in a sea of sticky notes, or simply wondering if all this Agile stuff is worth the hassle, I can provide clarity, guidance, and a healthy dose of pragmatism. Because ultimately, it’s not about blindly following a methodology, it’s about finding the right approach to deliver value, achieve your goals, and maybe, just maybe, retain a little bit of your sanity in the process.

If you’re ready to move beyond the Agile buzzwords and build a truly effective development process, let’s talk.

Riverside Museum: Where History Met a Mac-mini Powered Time Machine

Rewind to about 2010-11. Imagine a younger, more naive version of myself, sporting questionable fashion choices and an unwavering belief in the power of technology. I was working at this cool little agency called 55 Degrees, a melting pot of designers, developers, and video wizards. We were all about pushing the boundaries of digital storytelling, and we landed this epic project: the Riverside Museum in Glasgow.

Now, this wasn’t just any museum. It had just been built on the historic site of Clyde shipbuilding and was a cathedral of transport, a shrine to all things that moved, from steam locomotives to skateboards. With a loose brief, a band of eighteen of us were tasked with bringing these objects to life. Not with dusty labels and boring timelines, but with stories. Emotive, engaging, personality-packed stories.

So, we rolled up our sleeves and got to work. We churned out 34 documentary films, capturing the essence of Clyde-built ships, vintage cars, and even a penny-farthing or two. We crafted audio exhibits that transported you to bustling Victorian streets and roaring shipyards. We animated historical figures, giving them voices and quirks that would make a Disney character jealous.

Amidst this whirlwind of maritime history and technological ambition, I had my own pet project: a celebration of Glasgow’s skateboarding scene. See, just the year before, I had launched Skateboard Scotland in Edinburgh and gotten involved in the burgeoning skatepark scene. So, naturally, I had to inject a bit of that rebellious spirit into the Riverside Museum. Thus, the “Board Games” exhibit was born.  (And it was pretty darn satisfying to see it still going strong 15 years later, looking exactly the same, so much for progress.)

But the real challenge, the Everest of our digital ambition, was the interactive exhibits. Riverside wanted visitors to engage with the collection, to delve deeper, to become part of the story. And how did we achieve this, you ask? With an army of iPads, of course. Well, not actual iPads (they weren’t quite a thing back then), but these massive, portrait-oriented touchscreens we called “eIntros.” (Story Player)

These eIntros were our digital playground. We packed them with information, photos, videos, and interactive elements, all controlled by a central Content Management System (CMS). But here’s where our hubris kicked in. Did we use an existing CMS? Nope. We built our own. From scratch. With Ruby on Rails. Because, why not? (At this point, you might be picturing a montage of frantic coding, fuelled by caffeine and the unshakeable belief that we were reinventing the wheel. You would be right.)

This CMS, our Frankensteinian creation, was a beast. It managed everything. The eIntros, the games, the “What’s On” screens, even the museum lighting (because who needs a light switch when you have a CMS?). It could spit out HTML5, JSON, XML – you name it. We were like digital puppet masters, pulling the strings of the entire museum experience.

And because we had this perfectly controlled environment (a developer’s utopia), we went wild with the latest web technologies. CSS3 animations? Check. JavaScript wizardry? Double-check. HTML5 video? Oh, you better believe it. We even built our own full-screen browser, because Safari just couldn’t handle what we wanted it to do.

Then came the games. Multiplayer, interactive extravaganzas that had visitors racing trams, building bridges, and navigating historical maps. We built a custom framework, naturally, because off-the-shelf solutions are for the faint of heart.

And because we’re nothing if not extra, we threw in some generative graphics for good measure. Quartz Composer screensavers danced hypnotically on screens, and the Donor Wall became a mesmerising tapestry of names, brought to life with Processing.

The final pièce de résistance? A show control system baked right into the CMS. We could control projectors, media players, even the model ships sailing across a giant video projection, all from our custom-built command centre. It was a symphony of technology, a masterpiece of over-engineering.

Some of this digital wizardary has been lost to the sands of time (or, more accurately, the depths of the museum archives). But hey, we did manage to open-source one little gem: Makitzo, a Ruby deployment tool that saved our sanity during installation. Because, without it, we’d probably still be there, wrestling with cables and cursing Steve Jobs.

So, there you have it. The story of how a bunch of tech-obsessed creatives turned a museum into a giant, interactive playground. It was a wild ride, a testament to the power of passion, innovation, and a whole lot of caffeine. And while the technology might be outdated now, the memories (and the occasional nightmare about rogue CSS animations) live on.

The demise of 55 Degrees left a bunch of talented people out of work and some of us out-of-pocket but the museum is still going strong and the fact that most of the tech and content is still attracting visitors 14 years since it opened, to the tune of 1.3 million in 2023, is testimony to a talented team of creatives and techies, the names I can remember:

Tom Beddard

Russ Kyle

Dave Morrow

Joseph Briffa

Jason Frame

Alistair Macdonald

Tomek Augustyn 

Ian Airley

Shiel Yule

My Statistical Odyssey: How I Finally Conquered “The Art of Statistics” (without a brain aneurysm)

Gather ’round because I have a tale to tell. A tale of statistical daring-do, of intellectual battles fought and won (eventually), and of a book that nearly broke me but ultimately sparked a lifelong love affair with data.

The hero of our story? “The Art of Statistics” by David Spiegelhalter. The villain? My own statistically insignificant attention span.

Our story begins in 2019, a simpler time when “pandemic” was just a scary word in a board game and sourdough starter wasn’t a mandatory kitchen accessory. I bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, decided to tackle this tome, convinced I would emerge a statistical savant, capable of predicting the lottery numbers and the exact moment my toast would burn.

Turns out, statistics is a bit more complicated than the pie charts I used to colour in at school. Who knew? So began my years-long wrestling match with this book. I’d read a chapter, feel my brain cells staging a mass exodus, and promptly retreat to the soothing embrace of a comic, minecraft or Fortnite. Rinse and repeat.

But like a stubborn stain on my favorite shirt, I just couldn’t get rid of this book. So, I persevered. I re-read chapters. I Googled terms that sounded like they belonged in a Harry Potter spellbook (“heteroscedasticity,” anyone?). I even resorted to drawing diagrams on my windows with dry-erase markers (much to the confusion of my neighbours).

And slowly, miraculously, something started to click. David Spiegelhalter, bless his statistically significant heart, has a way of making even the most mind-bending concepts understandable. He’s like the data whisperer, the statistical Yoda, the… okay, I’ll stop with the analogies. But seriously, his writing is engaging, witty, and surprisingly relatable. Plus, the examples he uses are fascinating – from the probability of winning the lottery (spoiler alert: don’t quit your day job) to the statistical quirks of birth dates and death rates.

This book, my friends, was a journey. A statistical odyssey, if you will. It challenged me, frustrated me, and ultimately, inspired me. It sparked a curiosity about data that led me to the Google Data Analytics course I’m currently immersed in (more on that in another blog post, because this one is already longer than the average attention span, statistically speaking).

So, what’s the moral of the story? Well, first, never underestimate the power of a good book. Second, statistics can be fascinating. And third, if I can conquer “The Art of Statistics,” then by the transitive property of awesomeness, I can probably conquer this data analytics course too.

P.S. Pelican Books, you guys are the real MVPs. Bringing back all those school textbook memories (the good ones, mostly). And for publishing this gem of a book? You deserve a statistically significant high-five.

My Subconscious is Now a Loyal Customer of the Dallergut Dream Department Store

Okay, confession time. I have a problem. A delightful problem, but a problem nonetheless. It’s called the Dallergut Dream Department Store. Specifically, two Dallergut Dream Department Store-shaped problems.

Remember over Christmas when I raved about this whimsical Korean novel? The one where you can buy dreams? Yeah, that one. Well, I finished it, and I was bereft. Like, my brain was wandering around the real world, bumping into things and muttering, “But… where are the dream catalogues?”

Luckily, my literary fairy godmother (aka the internet) whispered sweet nothings about a sequel. A sequel! Turns out, my dream-buying days were far from over. And let me tell you, “Welcome to the Dream Department Store” was even better than the original. It was like going back to your favorite cafe and discovering they now serve your favorite cake with extra sprinkles.

Seriously, these books are pure magic. Miye Lee has this incredible way of weaving stories that just pull you in. I devoured both books (okay, maybe not quite in one sitting, but the temptation was REAL). The writing style is so refreshing. It’s different from what I’m used to in Western literature, but in the best possible way. It’s…gentle? Magical? Like being wrapped in a warm blanket made of storytelling.

Now, I have to give a shout-out to Sandy Joosun Lee, the translator. I’m convinced a huge part of the books’ charm is down to her skill. And I totally agree with her comment in the second book – I’ve been dreaming like crazy since I started reading these at bedtime! My subconscious is clearly a loyal customer of the Dallergut Dream Department Store. I’m pretty sure I bought a flying unicorn and a lifetime supply of chocolate in my last dream. (Sadly, neither were delivered. Dream Department Store customer service, if you’re reading this, I’d like to file a complaint.)

So, if you’re looking for a book that will transport you to another world, make you believe in the impossible, and maybe even inspire some seriously epic dreams, then I cannot recommend the Dallergut Dream Department Store books enough. Go. Read. Them. Your brain (and your dream life) will thank you. Just don’t blame me if you start trying to pay for your morning coffee with dream coupons. I warned you.

My Bank Account is Safe, But My Dream Wallet is Officially Empty (Thanks, Dallergut!)

From Zero to Data Hero: My Google Data Analytics Journey

Just a few short months ago, the world of data analytics felt like a vast, uncharted ocean. Now, after completing Google’s Data Analytics Professional Certificate (or at least the 12+ modules that make up the learning path – more on that later!), I feel like I’ve charted a course and am confidently navigating those waters. It’s been an intense, exhilarating, and sometimes head-scratching journey, but one I wouldn’t trade for anything.

My adventure began in October 2024, and by February (this week) 2025, I had conquered (most of) the learning path. Conquer is the right word, because it was definitely an intense learning curve. 2000’s dev junior SQL skills? Yeah, they got a serious dusting off. And my forgotten Python, which was starting to resemble ancient hieroglyphics? Well, let’s just say we’re on speaking terms again.

The modules covered a huge range of topics, from the foundational “Introduction to Data Analytics on Google Cloud” and “Google Cloud Computing Foundations” to more specialized areas like “Working with Gemini Models in BigQuery,” “Creating ML Models with BigQuery ML,” and “Preparing Data for ML APIs on Google Cloud.” (See the full list at the end of this post!) Each module built upon the previous one, creating a solid foundation for understanding the entire data analytics lifecycle.

But the real stars of the show for me were BigQuery and, especially, Looker Studio. I’ve dabbled with other data visualization tools in the past (mentioning no names… cough Microsoft cough Tableau cough), but Looker Studio blew me away. It’s intuitive, powerful, and just… fun to use. Seriously, I fell in love. The ease with which you can connect to data sources and create insightful dashboards is simply unmatched. It’s like having a superpower for data storytelling!

One of the biggest “aha!” moments for me was realizing the sheer power of data insights. Mining those hidden gems from large datasets is incredibly addictive. And the fact that Google makes it so easy to access public datasets through BigQuery? Game changer. It’s like having a data goldmine at your fingertips.

This learning path has ignited a real passion within me. So much so that I’m now pursuing a Data Analysis Diploma, which I’m hoping to wrap up before June. And, because I apparently haven’t had enough learning, I’m also signing up for the Google Cloud Data Analytics Professional Certificate. I’m all in!

I have to say, the entire Google Cloud platform just feels so much more integrated and user-friendly compared to the Microsoft offerings I’ve used. Everything works together seamlessly, and the learning resources are top-notch. If you’re considering a career in data analytics, I would wholeheartedly recommend the Google path over other options.

I’m especially excited to dive deeper into the machine learning aspects. And the integration of Gemini? Genius! Having it as a code buddy has been a huge help, especially when I’m wrestling with a particularly tricky SQL query or trying to remember the correct syntax for a Python function. Seriously, it’s like having a data analytics guru by my side.

Stay tuned for future posts where I’ll be sharing more about my data analytics journey, including tips and tricks, project updates, and maybe even some data visualizations of my own!

Coursera do an official course = https://www.google.com/url?sa=E&source=gmail&q=https://www.coursera.org/professional-certificates/google-data-analytics – this you get a recognised formal professional certificate.

Or jump into Google Cloud Skills Boost: https://www.cloudskillsboost.google/ and get yourself a Cloud account and friendly with Gemini.

Modules Completed:

  • Work with Gemini Models in BigQuery
  • Analyzing and Visualizing Data in Looker Studio
  • BigQuery for Data Analysts
  • Boost Productivity with Gemini in BigQuery
  • Create ML Models with BigQuery ML
  • Derive Insights from BigQuery Data
  • Developing Data Models with LookML
  • Google Cloud Computing Foundations- Data, ML, and AI in Google Cloud
  • Introduction to Data Analytics on Google Cloud
  • Manage Data Models in Looker
  • Prepare Data for Looker Dashboards and Reports
  • Prepare Data for ML APIs on Google Cloud

The Ghost of October: Echoes of the Cuban Missile Crisis in Today’s World

Sixty-one years ago, the world held its breath. President John F. Kennedy, in a somber address on October 22nd, 1962, revealed the chilling discovery of Soviet nuclear missiles in Cuba. The Cuban Missile Crisis, a 13-day standoff, brought humanity closer to nuclear annihilation than ever before.

Kennedy’s resolute yet measured response, a naval blockade combined with back-channel diplomacy, ultimately averted catastrophe. The Soviets backed down, removing the missiles in exchange for a US pledge not to invade Cuba and the dismantling of US missile installations in Turkey.

But the ghost of October lingers. Today, a multitude of conflicts simmer across the globe, each with the potential to escalate into a wider conflagration. Gaza, Lebanon, Palestine, Iran, Israel – the Middle East remains a tinderbox of tensions. The war in Ukraine grinds on, with the spectre of nuclear escalation a constant worry. Sudan, Georgia, Mexico, Haiti, the Sahel, Myanmar – all face internal strife or external pressures that threaten to boil over.

A World on Edge, Lacking a Steady Hand

The Cuban Missile Crisis was defused through a combination of firmness and diplomatic finesse. Kennedy, despite facing immense pressure to launch a military strike, chose a path of calculated restraint. Crucially, he had a direct line of communication with Khrushchev, allowing for tense but ultimately successful negotiations.

Today, that kind of leadership seems absent from the world stage. The current geopolitical landscape is fractured, with mistrust and animosity running high. While diplomatic efforts are underway in various hotspots, the absence of a strong, universally respected leader capable of bridging divides and de-escalating tensions is deeply concerning.

What Can Be Done?

While the challenges are immense, there are steps that can be taken to mitigate the risks:

  • Strengthening international institutions: The UN and other multilateral organisations need to be empowered to play a more effective role in conflict prevention and resolution.
  • Investing in diplomacy: Sustained diplomatic efforts are crucial to address the root causes of conflicts and build trust between adversaries.
  • Promoting dialogue and understanding: Open communication channels and cultural exchanges can help to break down barriers and foster cooperation.
  • Exercising restraint: Leaders must resist the temptation to resort to military force and instead prioritise peaceful solutions.

The world cannot afford to sleepwalk into another October crisis. The echoes of 1962 should serve as a wake-up call, urging us to pursue a path of peace and diplomacy before it’s too late.

Ignite Your Own ‘Aha!’ Moments: Lessons from Edison

October 21st, 1879. Thomas Edison, weary-eyed but determined, watching a humble carbon filament glow steadily in a glass bulb. It wasn’t the first incandescent light, but it was the first practical one, a breakthrough that illuminated the path to the electrified world we know today. Imagine that feeling – the surge of triumph, the “aha!” moment that changed everything.

Edison’s invention wasn’t just about brighter nights; it sparked a revolution. Factories could hum around the clock, homes became havens of comfort, and cities transformed into glittering landscapes. But that initial spark, that flash of inspiration, is something we all experience, isn’t it?

Think about your own “light bulb moments” – that sudden realization when solving a tricky problem, the innovative idea that takes your breath away, or even the simple joy of understanding a complex concept for the first time. These moments, big or small, are the engines of progress, the catalysts for change.

145 years after Edison’s breakthrough, we’re surrounded by the descendants of his genius. But the spirit of innovation hasn’t dimmed. Today, our “light bulb moments” are powered by algorithms, fueled by data, and manifested in the smart devices that fill our lives.

Imagine this: you walk into your home, and the lights adjust to your preferred setting, the thermostat knows your ideal temperature, and your favorite music starts playing softly. This isn’t science fiction; it’s the reality of smart home technology, a testament to countless “aha!” moments that have built upon Edison’s legacy.

From voice assistants that anticipate our needs to AI-powered apps that personalize our experiences, technology continues to evolve at an astonishing pace. And behind every innovation, every leap forward, is a human being experiencing that same thrill of discovery, that same “light bulb moment” that Edison felt 145 years ago.

So the next time you have a flash of brilliance, no matter how small, remember that you’re part of a long lineage of innovators, stretching back to that dimly lit room in Menlo Park. Embrace that “aha!” moment, nurture it, and let it shine. Who knows? You might just spark the next revolution.

Houston, We Have a New Problem: Geopolitics in Orbit (Extended Version)

Remember Tim Marshall’s Prisoners of Geography and follow up Future of Geography? He brilliantly showed how mountains, rivers, and coastlines shape nations and their destinies. Well, hold onto your spacesuits, because the final frontier is about to become the ultimate geopolitical battleground. What was once the stuff of science fiction is now headline news: spy satellites playing lunar peek-a-boo, space mining for trillion-dollar asteroids, and boots on Mars – all within our lifetime.  

Forget the Cold War; this is the Cosmic Cold War. And it’s heating up faster than a rocket re-entering the atmosphere. Just this week, the world’s space agencies huddled in Milan, hatching plans for lunar outposts and orbital dominance. It’s like a real-life Star Wars summit, only with more PowerPoint presentations and slightly less Death Star construction.  

The Americans, ever the pioneers, are rallying allies for their Artemis program, aiming to put the first woman and person of colour on the moon. Think of it as the ultimate “We choose to go to the Moon” speech, but with a more diverse cast and a hefty dose of international collaboration. Meanwhile, the Chinese, not to be outdone, are building their own space station, the Tiangong, a shining symbol of their growing technological prowess and ambition. And the Russians… well, let’s just say they weren’t invited to the party this time. Seems like invading your neighbour puts a bit of a damper on your spacefaring social calendar.  

But it’s not just nations vying for cosmic supremacy. Private companies are blasting off too, scrambling to keep up with Elon Musk’s SpaceX, which is already dominating the orbital lanes like a cosmic Amazon delivery service. Imagine a future where instead of next-day delivery, you get next-orbit delivery. “Need a new smartphone? No problem, we’ll launch it into space and have it parachuted to your doorstep in 30 minutes!”

This new space race is about more than just bragging rights. It’s about resources, strategic advantage, and the future of humanity. Who controls the moon controls the high ground of the solar system. Who mines the asteroids controls the raw materials of tomorrow. And who establishes the first permanent lunar base might just get to write the rules for the next chapter of human history.

It seems we humans have a knack for taking our squabbles wherever we go. We’ve polluted the Earth, carved it up into competing territories, and now we’re setting our sights on the stars. As Douglas Adams might have put it, “Space is big. Really big. You just won’t believe how vastly, hugely, mind-bogglingly big it is. And apparently, there’s not enough room for all of us to behave ourselves.”

So buckle up, Earthlings. The race for space is on, and it’s going to be a wild ride. Let’s just hope we don’t end up exporting our terrestrial troubles to the rest of the universe. After all, the cosmos has enough black holes already. And the last thing we need is to turn the Milky Way into a cosmic junkyard, littered with the debris of our earthly conflicts.

———————

The Facts

The International Astronautical Congress (IAC) since 1950 has been a venue for the scientists, engineers, companies and political leaders of spacefaring nations to discuss cooperation, even in times of heightened tensions among world powers. This year’s conference will put the space minds of two top rivals – the U.S. and China – under one roof. But Russia’s space agency Roscosmos, a storied power now isolated from the West after Moscow’s 2022 invasion of Ukraine, will have no official presence, highlighting the latest fault lines in space cooperation. Nearly all of the 77 member countries of the International Astronautical Federation (IAF), the non-profit that organises IAC, have turned out for talks on what attendees expect will touch heavily on lunar exploration, NASA’s growing coalition of countries under its Artemis moon program and Europe’s pressing need for more sovereign access to space. NASA administrator Bill Nelson is expected to rally support at IAC for agency’s strategy to tap private companies to replace the ageing International Space Station after its 2030 retirement. The more than two-decade old orbiting science laboratory has been a symbol of space diplomacy led primarily by the U.S. and Russia, despite conflicts on Earth. NASA, which is investing billions of dollars in its flagship Artemis moon program, has been keen on maintaining a presence in low-Earth orbit to compete with China’s Tiangong space station, which has continuously housed Chinese astronauts for three years. The U.S. and China are also racing to land this decade the first humans on the moon since the last American Apollo mission in 1972. The two space powers are aggressively courting partner countries and leaning heavily on private companies for their moon programs, shaping the space objectives of smaller space agencies along the way.

Musk’s SpaceX and its workhorse Falcon 9 is relied upon by much of the Western world for accessing space, driving countries—including the U.S.—to encourage new space upstarts that can offer more affordable rockets. And SpaceX’s growing Starlink internet network has made the company the world’s largest satellite operator. Europe regained un-crewed access to orbit with the test flight of its Ariane 6 launcher in July. But capacity remains constrained by the cutting of ties with Russia, whose Soyuz rockets played a key role for the continent before the Ukraine war. Europe’s satellite manufacturing industry is also facing growing pressures as a once-thriving market for its large, bespoke geostationary satellites faces heavy pressure from constellations in low Earth orbit such as SpaceX’s Starlink. Italy’s Leonardo, one of the hosts of the week-long event, has called for a new strategy for the space sector embracing its French joint venture partner Thales and their main rival in satellite manufacturing, Airbus. Industry sources say the three companies are involved in preliminary talks about combining their satellite activities, but much will depend on the attitude of a new European Commission, which blocked past efforts to forge a single player. European strategists argue space is a worldwide market, and forcing European companies to preserve choice within the same region misses the bigger picture of global competition. NASA’s effort to seed privately built replacements to the ISS is driving some transatlantic tie-ups, such as the joint venture formed this year between Airbus and U.S. space operations firm Voyager to help capture European demand for low-Earth orbit research and operations.

Outsider Leaders vs. the Deep State: Historical Insights

Forget the Illuminati, move over lizard people – the real conspiracy is hiding in plain sight. The Deep State: it’s the whisper in the corridors of power, the unseen hand guiding global events, and it’s about to get a whole lot more interesting. This isn’t your average tinfoil-hat rant; we’re diving headfirst into the murky world of shadowy figures and clandestine agendas, where paranoia meets reality and the line between truth and fiction blurs beyond recognition. Buckle up, because things are about to get weird.

The “Deep State” refers to the entrenched elements within a government bureaucracy that wield significant influence and power, often operating independently of elected officials. It represents the established order and resists changes that threaten its power.

While the term is often associated with the US, many countries have their own version of a Deep State. Examining how these entrenched forces react to outsider leaders – those who challenge the status quo – can provide valuable insights.

When an outsider gains power, three potential outcomes typically emerge:

  1. Elimination: The Deep State takes measures to remove the outsider, potentially through assassination or orchestrated removal from office.
  2. Subversion: The Deep State successfully co-opts the outsider, neutralising their reform agenda and maintaining its own power.
  3. Overcoming: The outsider successfully dismantles or significantly weakens the Deep State, allowing for the implementation of independent policies.

History provides numerous examples of these scenarios playing out across different nations. Some outsiders who challenged the Deep State met with fatal consequences, while others managed to neutralise its influence, often through drastic measures. Yet others, despite initial intentions, find themselves absorbed into the existing power structure.

By studying these historical cases, we can better understand the complex dynamics between outsider leaders and the Deep State, and the potential consequences of their interactions.

History offers several examples of outsiders who challenged the Deep State and met with grim fates. The assassination of JFK remains a prominent example, with many believing he was eliminated for threatening powerful interests. In Egypt, Mohamed Morsi of the Muslim Brotherhood was swiftly overthrown and later died in prison under suspicious circumstances after failing to dismantle the entrenched power structure. Similarly, author John Perkins, who claims to have been an “economic hit man,” alleges that the Deep State assassinated Jaime Roldos and Omar Torrijos, leaders of Ecuador and Panama respectively, when they resisted its influence.

Conversely, some outsiders have successfully challenged and weakened the Deep State. Fidel Castro’s revolution in Cuba prevailed because he crippled the existing power structure, recognizing that it would have otherwise overthrown him. Similarly, the 1979 Islamic Revolution in Iran succeeded due to Khomeini’s dismantling of the previous regime’s Deep State through purges of the military and security agencies. In Russia, Putin appears to have tamed the entrenched bureaucracy by asserting control over the oligarchs, exemplified by his treatment of Mikhail Khodorkovsky. Turkey’s Erdogan, once an outsider, survived a coup attempt in 2016 and subsequently consolidated power by restructuring the military and intelligence agencies. Finally, El Salvador’s Bukele neutralized the influence of violent gangs, effectively breaking the grip of the Deep State, which he believed was controlled by US interests.

These examples highlight the inherent danger outsiders face when challenging the Deep State. Successfully implementing an independent agenda requires confronting and overcoming this entrenched power structure, a risky endeavour that could lead to elimination. This explains why many outsiders ultimately choose to “play ball” with the Deep State, prioritising their own safety and political survival over radical change. The recent assassination attempts against Donald Trump, should he return to the White House, underscore this dynamic. These attempts suggest a belief within certain factions that a second Trump term would pose a significant threat to their interests, prompting them to take drastic measures to prevent it. This raises serious questions about the future stability of American politics and the potential for further conflict between outsider leaders and the Deep State.