"Graffiti is one of the few tools you have if you have almost nothing. And even if you don't come up with a picture to cure world poverty you can make someone smile while they're having a piss."
— Banksy, Banging Your Head Against a Brick Wall

Fresh Paint is Blue Spoon's essay series in strategy criticism. Written by John G. Singer, each piece takes a live business event — a selloff, a merger, a turnaround plan, a chief executive's letter — and argues with the position underneath it, using the public record and the company's own documents.

Architecture has critics. Film has critics. Corporate strategy has analysts, which is a different job. An analyst asks whether the company will hit the number. Criticism asks whether the number is the right thing to be counting — and who decided that, and how long ago, and what it now costs to keep believing it.

The standing target is the bubble factory: press releases from public relations departments that distract and disguise and do little more than sustain a dysfunctional status quo. Healthcare, pharma, technology services, advertising, finance — wherever an industry has stopped questioning its own premise and started optimizing inside it.

No magic wands, hyperspace missions, moonshots to save humanity from itself, generative AI capabilities from technology vendors promoting access to galaxies far, far away. Just a different brand of imagination, the kind with the power to punch through and persuade.

The capacity to see, say, sell and sustain with system vision is a rich vein to mine for originality. Some of what appears here is later developed into articles for more formal publications.


The era of linear solutioning is over.

And while avoiding ambiguity and shying away from complexity is understandable, pretending it doesn't exist is foolish at best and fantasy at worst. It's time to break the Standard Model of thought and inaction.

In Conversation — Duggan
Fresh Paint

All Essays

Newest first. Healthcare strategy, AI infrastructure, pharmaceutical ecosystem design, narrative collapse.