Welcome to the Out of Line newsletter.

You did the right things. For a while, they worked.

Then, something changed. The rules changed, but nobody told you.

The vending machine’s been unplugged since 2008. You’re still standing there with the exact change in your hand.

You’re still following the instructions. But nobody’s listening.

I’m Trevor. I’m Irish. Sorry. Somebody has to be.

Over the last 30 years, I’ve lived in 12 countries and worked across 40 more - in finance, infrastructure, venture development. I’ve been in enough boardrooms to notice a pattern: smart people applying perfectly reasonable assumptions to environments that had quietly changed without them noticing.

Sensible strategies. Poor timing. Changing incentives. Everyone talking as if the old rules still applied, usually because admitting otherwise would have been extremely inconvenient for the quarterly forecast.

We pitched disruption to institutions built to reward stability. We walked out of meetings feeling progress had been made, only to realise the meeting itself was just theatrics with better cookies. We tried to build agreement around tables where the real decision had already been made somewhere else.

Eventually, I started noticing the same pattern outside of business, in careers, relationships, money, and even identity. People were doing sensible things and getting strange outcomes.

That’s when it clicked: the old rulebook hadn’t just expired. It had been written for a world that at least pretended to keep a straight face.

Out of Line is where I write about that gap – between the rules you were given and the world you’re actually operating in.

You won’t find reinvention here. Or resilience theatre, certainty or hustle porn, five-step plans, morning routines, or the usual motivational flat-pack furniture. And you won’t find another beautifully lit person in white sneakers explaining discipline beside a suspiciously large plant.

I don’t write about “embracing uncertainty” or finding calm in chaos. Out of Line is about recognising when the rules were wrong in the first place.

Most modern advice starts with the assumption that you’re the dodgy component. The “fix” apparently involves better habits, sharper goals, a cleaner mindset, and possibly a notebook with heavier paper.

But that advice carries a hidden assumption: that the world is still stable, linear, and predictable enough for the old rules to keep working.

Out of Line starts somewhere else.

Maybe the rules you were given no longer match the world you’re in. Maybe you’re not the dodgy bit. Maybe you’ve been following instructions from a version of the world that used to answer the phone.

This is for people who’ve done things properly and are beginning to suspect that properly has an expiry date. People who’ve read enough self-help to recognise the smell of fresh varnish.

You don’t need your life explained back to you with a framework and a hopeful subtitle. You need the varnish stripped back far enough to see the old rulebook underneath, and to decide which of those old rules are still worth following for the world you’re now in.

One essay a week and a short practical called 359°.

Clear thinking for a world that no longer behaves the way it’s supposed to.

Or at least, not entirely.