We don\u2019t just react to the world, we model it. We look for patterns, test assumptions and decide where to place our effort. This is an idea that\u2019s easy to like, but I\u2019ve learned how readily those models warp under pressure. Keep saying yes, keep moving, hope momentum will turn into progress. It often doesn\u2019t.<\/p>\n
That was my mistake at\u00a0Public|Policy Southampton. On paper, everything looked promising: strong civic partnerships, direct access to policymakers, visible support from leadership. But I was everywhere and going nowhere.<\/p>\n
In academia and policy, I discovered that friction is often mistaken for failure. So, I decided to assume the opposite: that many problems persist because we tackle them at the wrong scale. I began to act as if most problems are local until proven otherwise. In this case, \u201clocal\u201d means close enough to understand, fast enough to learn from, and relevant enough to act on. And if I can act, I\u2019m not stuck.<\/p>\n
Then I recognised the pattern. I was spreading myself too thinly. Like Yahoo! in the now-famous\u00a0Peanut Butter Manifesto<\/em>, I was doing too much, too evenly, and excelling at nothing. The principle that helps individuals focus applies to institutions, too. Strategy isn\u2019t the sum of everything you\u2019re willing to do, it\u2019s the few things you choose to do instead.<\/p>\n Reframing my approach, I stopped asking: \u201cIs this project worthwhile?\u201d and started asking: \u201cIs this mine to do?\u201d That subtle shift re-centred my attention from broad ambition to accountable action. I didn\u2019t build another strategy document; I built a working interface: a bridge between research and decision-making. That meant aligning what the university already had \u2013 our databases, our expertise \u2013 with the needs right in front of me. I mapped internal assets such as\u00a0Pure\u00a0and\u00a0ePrints\u00a0to local priorities: freight emissions, digital inclusion, skills gaps. Then I reshaped research outputs into policy-ready briefs, not for compliance but for consequence.<\/p>\n That shift in mindset helped me see Southampton\u2019s assets differently. Wind tunnels, data collectives and high-voltage labs viewed narrowly are academic facilities. But seen through a civic lens, they\u2019re infrastructure for the region. When I started presenting them that way, it changed the conversation. We weren\u2019t just asking for collaboration; we were inviting joint stewardship. Our partners became co-investors in shared capability, tools with public purpose.<\/p>\n The same logic applies to our AI strengths:\u00a0agentic systems,\u00a0maritime autonomy\u00a0and\u00a0clean freight. These aren\u2019t just research themes, they\u2019re tools for governing regional development, if we chose to use them that way.<\/p>\n In both Westminster and academia, it\u2019s easy to keep adding functions: skills, growth, innovation, civic pride. But good strategy resists this temptation. That\u2019s the core of David Willetts\u2019 recent provocation\u00a0Are Universities Worth It?<\/em>: value isn\u2019t something we whisper about in spreadsheets. It\u2019s something we demonstrate through trade-offs.<\/p>\n That\u2019s why I now use a simple tool: a one-page What I\u2019m Not Doing This Year. It started as a personal exercise, distinguishing political compliance from genuine commitment. But it became institutional. It provides the language to make trade-offs visible: turning down funding lines that dilute focus, protecting reflective time for early career researchers, and rebalancing team responsibilities under pressure.<\/p>\n This is what coherence looks like, not doing everything for everyone, but doing the few things that matter most and doing them well. It\u2019s a form of radicalism that isn\u2019t nostalgic or defensive: it\u2019s hyper-focused, place-based and open-eyed.<\/p>\n By building these tools in partnership with the city council and logistics firms, we\u2019re not merely deploying technology, we\u2019re shaping the region\u2019s capacity to meet its net zero carbon goals. We\u2019ve reimagined our\u00a0Science Park\u00a0as an innovation engine, not a passive landlord. It\u2019s a place where university researchers and company engineers co-create solutions in real time. And we\u2019ve made our work in\u00a0responsible AI, long a research strength, the backbone of how these systems are governed. At the\u00a0Web Science Institute, our ethicists and data scientists work side by side to define the values and constraints that shape what AI should do, not just what it can do. That\u2019s what coherence looks like, too.<\/p>\n The peanut butter metaphor works because it names something real: the paralysis of vague ambition. I saw first-hand the kind of institutional paralysis that comes from trying to do a bit of everything, spreading efforts so thin that nothing sticks. The cure was a kind of radical focus. And in writing about strategy, I believe the same principle applies: we should speak plainly, say what we mean, and sound like ourselves. An op-ed like this should feel rigorous in thought but resonant in tone. Ideally, it leaves the reader with both an insight and a feeling.<\/p>\n For me, that insight is about focus. If we\u2019re serious about delivering on grand initiatives, our university\u2019s much-touted\u00a0triple helix\u00a0partnership of academia, industry and government, we have to be equally serious about the trade-offs they demand. We have to be willing to name what we won\u2019t do, to show what we choose not to pursue, and to repeat that message until it becomes cultural muscle memory.<\/p>\n\n\n