I am a grassroots analyst, activist, advocate, and ambassador. I write op-eds about how power operates across technology, governance, policy, culture, the economy, and society—and how the resulting harms are denied, obscured, or treated as inevitable.
My work looks for connections: between concentrated wealth and political influence; between the design of technologies and the institutions that use them; between exclusionary assumptions and the policies, products, and practices those assumptions shape. I examine how these systems affect people’s agency, dignity, and ability to participate in decisions that govern their lives.
I write about forces including oligarchic power, xenophobia, exceptionalism, supremacy, bias, neuronormativity, ableism, discrimination, and eugenics. By neuronormativity, I mean prejudice or discrimination directed at neurodivergent people, especially when norms are treated as universal and people’s experiences or needs are dismissed. These terms name distinct histories and harms; in my articles, I aim to explain what I mean by them and show how they apply to the subject at hand.
I come to this work as an analyst and as a person whose life has been shaped by the systems I write about. For 61 years, I have lived without the family, friends, or support from systems that promised to provide it. I am autistic, but I was missed and misdiagnosed for decades. I received my diagnosis at 57, along with a hefty batch more (loosely referred to as the ‘big bowl of alphabet acronym soup) as part of an ACE 10/10 childhood and traumas of abuse, exploitation, and violence as my norm through roughly age 35.
Across my life, my agency has been abrogated and my autonomy dominated and coerced. My lived experience has been denied, spoken over, or rejected time and again. People and systems that promised care, help, and support have often failed to provide them. I use the term misfeasance to describe harms I have endured through medical and mental care. I use it here to name my experience, not to suggest that a particular legal finding has been made.
I live with dissociative identity disorder and work with a team of twelve other parts who have helped me through this life. This is part of my experience and perspective. I share it on my own terms—not as spectacle, metaphor, or proof that my analysis is right, but because it is part of who I am.
I also bring decades of experience in technology. From 1980 until about 2015, I worked in deep technologies and across information brokering, data and business analysis, competitive business intelligence, product-market fit, product ideation and development, feature design, and interaction design. My work encompassed requirements: eliciting and managing them through development and delivery, and into maintenance and support.
I am an eighth-grade dropout. I have no college degree, certifications, or formal credentials. I do have a long history of work and hard-earned experience. I am not asking anyone to accept my conclusions because of a title. I want readers to engage with the work: the evidence, the reasoning, the analysis, and the arguments.
This site is a public body of work and a place for engaged authorship. I do not pretend to stand outside the causes I write about, or present advocacy as neutrality. I will be clear about my commitments and careful with my claims: distinguishing what is documented from what I infer, explaining how I reach a conclusion, and remaining open to correction. Conviction does not remove the responsibility to make a case.
I use the word *ambassador* to describe the purpose I bring to this work. When I research, analyze, and write, I am not doing it only for myself or for the sake of having a platform. I am trying to serve the best positive future possible for humanity.
That future is not mine alone to define. Across history, thinkers, innovators, and leaders have helped people imagine what humanity might become and what we owe one another. I know and engage with that intellectual inheritance. My work is one contribution to the continuing conversation: examining the forces that obstruct a more just and humane future, challenging the stories that excuse those forces, and helping make better possibilities visible. I do not claim to speak for every person or community. I mean that I write in service of a future larger than myself.
The articles here will examine how harms are built into policies, technologies, institutions, incentives, assumptions, and everyday language—and how those harms are defended or denied. I want to make connections visible, test the explanations offered for what happens, and ask what accountability and redress would require.
I do this work because I want the failures I have experienced to become less possible for others—and, I hope, impossible for our children, their children, and generations beyond them. No one should have to surrender authority over their own life in order to be heard. Promises of care should not become a route through which further harm is done.
When I say I will not stop, I mean that so long as I see these things happening in the world, I will continue to write and analyze. I will continue to demonstrate what I have said all along: it has never been because we did not know, did not understand, or lacked the competence and capability to redress these harms.
The question is what we choose to do with what is already known—and whom we are willing to believe, protect, and hold accountable.