When I tell people I think of myself as a systems architect, I sometimes get confused looks.
Most people hear the word systems and assume I’m talking about software or making buildings. Servers, infrastructure, diagrams, you know, something deeply technical and probably written in code.
That’s in fact not what I mean.
When I say systems, I’m usually talking about companies. Not the legal entity or the brand, but the structure underneath it, the way work actually moves through an organization.
The reason I see companies this way is largely because of how my brain works.
I’m autistic, and one of the suphero traits that often comes with autism is strong pattern recognition. Many autistic people naturally organize information into structures and relationships. Instead of experiencing things as a series of separate tasks or events, our brains tend to map how pieces connect.
When I encounter something new, whether it’s a business, a team, a workflow, etc., my mind automatically starts identifying the structure behind it. I notice the components involved, how they interact, and where the flow either works or breaks down or could be improved.
In other words, my brain organizes things as systems. So when I look at a company, I don’t see departments, job titles, or individual projects. I see a system made up of interacting parts.
In my experience, most organizational systems are built from four core components:
- People.
- Tools.
- Plans.
- Tasks and the SOPs that define how those tasks happen.
The people are the individuals responsible for doing the work. The tools are the technologies, platforms, and resources used to execute that work. The plans define what the organization or team is trying to accomplish, including its goals, strategies, and priorities. The tasks and their associated SOPs (or standard operating procedures for those who have not had that word drilled into work), determine how that work actually gets done in a repeatable way.
When those components are aligned, everything functions smoothly. Work moves logically from one step to the next. People understand their roles. Tools support the work instead of complicating it. Plans translate into actions that can actually be executed. It’s truly a beautiful thing. A dream.
When those components are misaligned, the system starts to break down. People are blamed for mistakes that are actually caused by unclear processes. Tools are used that don’t match the work people are trying to do. Plans are created that don’t account for the tasks required to execute them or the people executing those tasks. Tasks exist in people’s heads instead of in documented processes, which means work becomes inconsistent and fragile.
From the outside, these problems often appear unrelated: missed deadlines, miscommunication, repeated mistakes, inefficient workflows, the usual mess.
From a systems perspective, they’re usually symptoms of the same issue: the structure connecting those components isn’t actual designed in a sustainable or effective way. Work is being done, but it’s not good work.
Many organizations grow organically rather than structurally. Processes evolve over time, knowledge accumulates informally, and people fill in gaps wherever they can. The company still functions, but it relies heavily on individuals compensating for weaknesses in the system.
That works for a while. The oil change light is on, tire pressure is off in the front left wheel, the radio doesn’t work, and the rear lights are busted, but hey, you can get from Point A to Point B, so technically everything’s ok, right?
But the larger the organization becomes or the longer the same weaknesses linger, the more fragile that arrangement is. When systems depend on individuals constantly improvising, the entire structure becomes difficult to scale and easy to disrupt.
This is the lens I bring to my work. When I say I’m a systems architect, I mean that I look at organizations through this structural perspective. I map how the people, tools, plans, and tasks interact, and I identify where those relationships are breaking down.
Sometimes the issue is that a process doesn’t exist. Sometimes the tools don’t support the work people are responsible for. Sometimes the strategy doesn’t translate into actionable tasks. And sometimes the people inside the system were never given the clarity or structure they needed to succeed.
When systems are built well, something important changes: people spend less time compensating for gaps. (If you haven’t checked out my first post talking about time, you’re missing out, just saying.)
Work becomes easier to repeat, easier to scale, and easier to improve. Instead of constantly troubleshooting chaos, teams can focus on doing the work they were actually hired to do and they do it well.
That’s the thing about systems; every company already has one.
The question isn’t whether your organization operates as a system. The question is whether that system was intentionally designed, or whether everyone inside it is just trying to keep a poorly assembled machine running.
So, should you patch up the system with quick repairs, replace the broken parts, or say screw it, get a new system? There’s no right answer, but there are definitely wrong answers.
Fun Fact: Family Guy is one of my autistic hyper-fixations and safe shows. I’ve watched it every single day for at least the past 25 years.