Wednesday, December 31, 2025

Separating the Wheat from the Chaff: A 45-Year Audit of High Tech

 I started my tenure in high tech with a simple set of requirements: put food on the table, clothes on my back, a roof over my head, and a few dollars in the bank for a rainy day.Forty-five years later—spanning the rise of the PC, the collapse of industrial giants like Sun and GE, and the current "hoopla" of Generative AI—I have checked off those boxes.

But leaving the industry isn't just about walking away; it’s about performing one final audit. In a world currently obsessed with the "How" (the faster chip, the smarter API, the next big exit), we are losing sight of the "Why." We are trading Precision for Hype, and Stewardship for a Mercenary Mindset.

The following blog posts is my attempt to separate the 'wheat" from the "chaff". It is a guide for the next generation of technical writers and architects who are currently being blinded by the "hoopla." Whether you are a veteran looking for an exit or a 25-year-old just starting your first role, these principles are the only "rainy day fund" that never devalues.

The Four Pillars of the Audit:

Welcome to the afterlife. Let's start separating the "wheat" from the "chaff".

The Hardware is Just a Pane of Glass

 In the 1980s, companies like Sun and IBM didn't build "gadgets"; they built infrastructure. When you document a power grid or a workstation meant to last 15 years, your "Why" is Stability. You learn that the hardware is a vessel, not a fashion statement (eg, the latest M5-powered MacBook Pro).

Today, the tech industry tries to convince you that the "How" (the newest chip, the integrated AI) is the magic. But as veterans, we know the truth: The hardware is just a pane of glass. By running the latest OS on "old" M1 hardware isn't being cheap. You are proving that the value lies in the synthesis of information, not the "typewriter" used

As a Tech Writer: Stop chasing the latest tool. Master the ability to make the tool irrelevant. If your work can't survive a hardware migration, it isn't "Wheat"; it’s "Chaff."

Why "How" is Taking Center Stage Over "Why"

 We are currently repeating the "API Hoopla" of the early 2000s, but with LLM prompts. Developers are enamored with the feat of integration—showing how "smart" they are by connecting a cloud brain to a UI.

But as GE learned with Predix, customers don't pay for "smart" demos; they pay for Results. In an Agile world, documentation has become a fragmented stream of "How-to" snippets that satisfy a Jira ticket but fail the user’s "Why."

Your job is not to describe the API. Your job is to be the Architect of the Requirement. If the AI generates a thousand pages of "slop," your role is to find the ten pages that prevent a catastrophic failure. Precision is the only thing that scales.

The Exit is a Liquidity Event, Not a Career

 The tech world is now populated by "Mercenaries" working for the "Vesting Date." This mindset creates Hollow Products—software built to be sold to a conglomerate, not to be used by a human. When you work for the "Exit," you sacrifice the "Why" of the user for the "Monetize" of the shareholder.

You may be asked to be the "Professional Asshole"—the one who does the work others won't touch. But there is another path: the Stewardship model. We stayed at our posts not for the stock options, but because we took pride in the structural integrity of the information.

Stock vests, but your reputation for Truth is the only "Rainy Day Fund" that never devalues. Don't be the person who writes the lie that sells the company; be the person who writes the truth that saves the user.

Am I Done Yet? The Ethics of the Open Seat

 There is a final stage in a high-tech career that no HR rep will ever explain: the moment you realize you have fulfilled your own requirements. When the roof is paid for and the rainy-day fund is full, the "Why" of your work must shift.

If you continue to grind for the same goals you had at 25, you are just "Stagnating" in a seat that a 25-year-old needs to find their own "Wheat." But "Done" doesn't mean "Finished." It means you are now free to be the Brake Inspector—the person who uses their 40 years of scars to tell the "Mercenaries" when they are driving the train off the tracks.

The 25-year-old doesn't need your seat. They need your perspective. They need to know that it's possible to spend 40 years in this industry and come out the other side with a clean conscience and a decoupled M1 Mac that still runs like a dream.

Separating the Wheat from the Chaff: A 45-Year Audit of High Tech

 I started my tenure in high tech with a simple set of requirements: put food on the table, clothes on my back, a roof over my head, and a f...