There is a simple question I’ve been asked more than once since this site went live:

“Why did it take you so long?”

Seriously?

Because I did it in an agile way.
Beside a full‑time job.
And because agile does not mean faster.

Agile means doing what has to be done — even if that means stopping, changing direction, or putting something on hold for years.

This blog almost didn’t happen.
Not once.
More like… several times.

Looking back, it’s easier to describe what happened in phases — not as classical milestones, but as shifts.
Not because it was planned that way, but because that’s how it unfolded.

Phase 1 – The Engineer’s Reflex

I bought the domain in 2019.
The idea was clear enough: a place to write about agile without turning it into a framework museum or a certification brochure.

I started with Ghost 2.x, after looking at other options and consciously deciding to go with it.

At that time, Ghost had no native commenting functionality.
And I was convinced a site like this needed comments.
Conversation. Exchange. Feedback. You know — all the noble reasons we tell ourselves.

The available solutions were third‑party systems.
And unless you paid for them, they came with ads — which felt… wrong.

So I did what engineers tend to do:
I decided to build my own commenting solution.

Home‑brewed.
Clean.
No ads.
Full control.

In parallel, I started working on the theme — not because of one decisive reason, but because two weak ones reinforced each other: I couldn’t find a theme I liked, and it involved handlebars. An exciting new thing to learn always helps justifying a questionable decision like using Ghost.

By the time that commenting solution was almost ready, something unexpected happened.

I read an article.

Phase 2 – Opinion Fatigue

The article was in German.
I don’t have the link anymore, and I haven’t been able to locate it again.

Its core message was brutally simple:

“I am tired of other people shoving their opinions onto me.”

“And I am tired of being asked for my opinion on even the most stupid things.”

That hit harder than expected.

Suddenly, the whole idea of comments felt different.

I started questioning things I had taken for granted:

  • Do I really need comments?
    • Aren’t comments mostly used to propagate opinions, often aggressively?
    • Do I want to spend time moderating discussions?
  • Am I capable of writing opinionated posts without mistaking confidence for truth?
  • And if I do write opinionated posts, is it fair to disable reactions?

That article had side effects.

I changed my social media habits:

  • No more commenting on posts
  • Very little reading of comments — mostly out of curiosity
  • Removing old posts
  • Deleting accounts altogether

At the same time, another question surfaced:

Do I want to put pressure on myself to publish at fixed intervals?

I already had — and still have — other things to do with my time.

After a lot of thinking, I landed here:

  • I don’t need comments
  • It’s okay to write posts with an opinion
  • As long as I don’t sell that opinion as the truth
  • I post whenever I feel like posting — no pressure, no schedule

That should have been the end of it.

It wasn’t.

Phase 3 – The Accidental Guru Problem

By then, Ghost had moved on to version 4.x, which required some adjustments to the theme.
Nothing dramatic — but enough to pull me back into the code again.

I started drafting the first real posts.

And then life provided a practical example of something that genuinely alarmed me.

I worked with a Product Owner who was subscribed to a newsletter by a well‑known name in the agile community.
With every edition of that newsletter, the PO wanted to change the way we worked.

Not because the context demanded it.
But because someone whose name alone seems to carry enough authority to override thinking said so.

That’s when another uncomfortable thought appeared:

What if someone, somewhere, someday does the same thing with my writing?

“We have to do it this way, because Johan said so.”

The probability of that happening is admittedly very low.
But the idea alone was enough.

The last thing I want to be is a guru.
Someone who “owns” the truth.
Someone whose words are used to shut down thinking.

So the project went on hold.
Again.

And, as it goes, other things in life got higher priority.

Phase 4 – Constraints Instead of Ambitions

At some point later, I picked it up again.

This time with a single, non‑negotiable constraint:

Whatever I publish — whether mild or controversial — must be based on observation, experience, and things I actually went through.

No borrowed certainty.
No recycled dogma.
No pretending.

In the meantime, Ghost had moved on again.
What started in 2.x had passed through 4.x and had now arrived at 6.x — with breaking changes that made most of my earlier theme work obsolete.

So technically, I went backwards.
Conceptually, I moved forward.

So… Why Now?

Because at some point you stop waiting for perfect conditions.
And because maybe — just maybe — someone finds something useful in here.

I like telling stories.
I like observing how theory collides with reality.
And I like writing things down when they refuse to leave my head.

That’s it.

I won’t repeat everything from the launch post here.
Just this much: there’s no schedule, no obligation, and no attempt to convert anyone.

I’ll share new posts on LinkedIn and Xing.
Read them. Ignore them. Either is fine.

When people hear “seven years”, they assume inefficiency.

I see reprioritization.

Agile does not mean faster.
Agile means doing what has to be done.

Sometimes that means building.
Sometimes it means stopping.
Sometimes it means questioning the entire idea and walking away for a while.

This blog exists precisely because I didn’t force it into existence.

That’s not a success story.
It’s just what happened.

And that’s usually how things really work.