“The best revenge is to be unlike him who performed the injury.”
— Marcus Aurelius

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Every new project begins with promises, most of them unspoken. Scope creep, mission drift, and eventual disappointment usually follow — not from bad faith, but from ambiguity that was never resolved at the start.

This is an attempt to do things differently.

Before the first real essay, while the slate is still clean and commitments are still cheap to make, I want to name what these Field Notes are for, what they aren’t, and what I owe you if you choose to keep reading.

What follows is a statement of work. Not a manifesto. Not a mission statement. Just a plain account of what I’m trying to build, and the constraints I’m willing to be held to.

I will not always succeed. But I would rather fail against a standard I’ve named than succeed at something I never defined.

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What This Is

I will publish occasional standalone essays designed to help thoughtful readers reason clearly about complex systems under constraint.

The goal is not to predict the future, win arguments, or respond to the news cycle.

The goal is to reduce harm caused by misunderstanding inevitability, scale, and fundamental limits — especially when critical decisions are being made under pressure.

These essays are written to remain useful long after the moment that prompted them has passed.

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What I Owe You

If you give me your attention, you should come away with at least one of the following:

1. A clearer mental model — a way of seeing a problem that reduces confusion, panic, or false certainty.

2. A practical heuristic — a test, question, mental tool, or rule of thumb you can apply in your own work or thinking.

3. A better sense of limits — an understanding of what cannot be controlled, predicted, or optimized, and why that matters.

4. A wider sense of where choice still exists — even when outcomes feel inevitable.

If an essay does not deliver at least one of these, I should not have published it.

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Who This Is For

I write for a general reader: moderately educated, curious, reflective, and capable of sustained attention. This is not limited to cybersecurity, technology, or policy professionals. Nonnative English speakers are explicitly included.

I assume intelligence without insider context. I assume good faith, but not specialized background.

If a smart sixteen-year-old or a thoughtful nonnative speaker would have to stop and look something up, I have failed to be clear enough.

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How This Should Read

- Calm, not urgent.
- Precise, not verbose.
- Confident without being performative.
- Pragmatic rather than philosophical for its own sake.
- Serious without being grim.
- Willing to sit with difficulty.
- Comfortable with ambiguity when the situation demands it.

I will try to avoid outrage, hype, snark, tribal signaling, certainty theater, and performative pessimism.

This has been thought about carefully, and it’s offered in good faith.

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What This Is Not

These Field Notes are not a link roundup.
Not a threat report. Not news commentary. Not hot takes. Not a diary. Not advocacy.

Links may appear, but only as references — not as the primary content.

I am not trying to keep up.
I am trying to be useful.

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When to Expect It

Essays will arrive occasionally, not on a fixed weekly schedule.

Typical cadence is every three to six weeks. Never more than twice per month. Never less than once per quarter. Usually published on Fridays.

Silence between issues is intentional.

No essay will be rushed to meet a schedule. If you don’t hear from me, it means I don’t yet have something worth your time.

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On Reach and Attention

I will not optimize for virality or engagement metrics.

There is no obligation to comment on current events. No expectation of external promotion. No requirement to maintain visibility.

Readers who find this work are expected to do so by choice. That is the only audience I want.

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If You Write Back

If you write me back something worth sharing, I may include it in a future issue. I will ask you first.

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On Guest Essays

Occasional guest essays may appear if they meet the same standards: clarity, restraint, durability, good faith, and respect for limits.

Guest essays are framed as offered tools, not endorsements. They should feel coherent.

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How I Will Hold Myself Accountable

Before I publish anything, I will ask myself:

1. Does this reduce confusion or fatalism?
2. Does it respect the reader’s intelligence and time?
3. Will it still make sense in a year?
4. Am I writing this to be useful, or to be seen?
5. Would I still stand by this if it were quietly read by someone under duress?
6. Does it engender hope and agency?
7. Is this durable, or is it mainly about this week?

If any of these fail, I will revise or wait.

I will not always get it right. But these are the questions I am willing to be judged against.

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Final Orientation

This is not about having the right answers. It is about asking better questions at key moments, before fear, habit, or momentum decide for us.

Thank you for reading this far. I will try to be worth your time.

— Trey