About Me

I have a specific personality trait: I want to know the why.

Not occasionally. Not when it is useful. My brain has a habit of grabbing onto questions and refusing to let go until it understands what is happening.

Sometimes that is helpful. Sometimes it means I spend far too long trying to understand something that most people would have simply accepted and moved on from.

Why does software behave the way it does? Why do people do what they do? Why does one small gesture reveal more than an entire explanation? Why does one story stay with us for years while another disappears the moment we finish it?

I am fascinated by how things work. Not just what happens, but why it happens.

Things are rarely exactly what they seem. There is usually a deeper reason, a hidden pattern, or some missing piece of information that explains why something is the way it is. The interesting part is finding it.

That curiosity has taken me through a lot of different worlds. Software, psychology, sociology, criminology, writing, and countless unexpected rabbit holes that started with a simple “I wonder why…” and ended with me knowing far too much about something completely unrelated.

I don’t think much is truly random. People, systems, conversations, and decisions all have reasons behind them. We just rarely have enough information to see the entire picture. I have a theory that, with enough information and enough understanding, human behaviour might become predictable. I could be completely wrong. But that possibility is exactly what makes the question interesting.

The answer itself is rarely the most exciting part. Of course, being right is fun. I am not going to pretend otherwise. But the moment something is understood, the mystery disappears.

The search is the part I enjoy.

That is probably why I am drawn to things that reward patience and repetition. Writing lets me create worlds and emotions from nothing but words. Reading lets me step into perspectives I would never experience myself. Archery gives me a quiet moment of focus and refinement. I love the repetition of the movement, the small improvements, and the strange certainty that comes when the arrow leaves the bow. Before it reaches the target, I already know what happened.

I have never been interested in being the best at something. That seems like a frustrating goal. There will always be someone faster, smarter, or more experienced. What matters to me is knowing how to think. How to break down a problem. How to reason through something I don’t understand yet.

If you know how to think, you can learn almost anything.

Of course, I am not always right. I have plenty of theories about why things work the way they do, and reality has a habit of occasionally reminding me that theories are not facts. Fortunately, being wrong is just another puzzle.

And puzzles are hard to resist.

From the smallest movement to the biggest speech, life is full of things that are far more interesting than they first appear.

There is always another why.

I work in software quality and test automation, but the part that interests me most is not the tooling. It is understanding why things fail and how we can build systems and teams that handle complexity better.

Software is a puzzle. So are the processes around it, and so are the teams building it. My work is about finding the hidden problems: the assumptions nobody questioned, the complexity nobody removed, and the weak points that only become visible when things start breaking.

I care about practical quality, not quality theatre. The goal is not more checklists, more meetings, or more automation for the sake of automation. The goal is giving people confidence: confidence to change software, confidence to release it, and confidence that the systems they build will behave the way they expect.

I believe good engineering creates space for people to do better work. The right processes, tools, and practices should remove friction rather than create it. If a process needs three meetings to explain itself, it is probably the process that needs testing.

A big part of my work is sharing what I learn. Through writing, speaking, and conversations with others, I try to make ideas easier to apply, mistakes easier to avoid, and teams better equipped to solve their own problems.

Because in the end, quality is not something you add to software. It is something you build into the way people think.

Outside of work, my curiosity tends to find different outlets.

Reading has always been one of them. I love stories because they are one of the most interesting ways to understand people. A good book lets me step into a perspective I would never have experienced myself, and explore worlds that only existed in someone else’s mind.

Writing is the other side of that same fascination. I enjoy taking ideas, feelings, and observations that are still unclear and turning them into something tangible. There is something almost magical about creating a world from nothing but words and convincing someone else to briefly believe in it. I have taken part in NaNoWriMo several times, mostly because I enjoy the challenge of sitting down and creating something where nothing existed before.

Archery appeals to a completely different part of my brain. It is quiet, repetitive, and precise. There is no hiding behind excuses when you release the arrow. The moment it leaves the bow, you already know what happened. You know whether your stance was right, whether your focus was there, whether you did the work beforehand. The arrow reaching the target is almost just confirmation.

I also enjoy contributing to open source projects. There is something satisfying about people building together without the usual boundaries of companies and job descriptions. Sharing knowledge, improving something together, and creating value for people you may never meet is a powerful idea.

Different activities, same pattern: I am drawn to things that let me understand, create, improve, or solve something. Apparently, even my hobbies cannot escape the question of “why”.