Technomancy

or the paradox of productivity

August 2025

Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic [Arthur C. Clarke, 1968]; and

Nobody Ever Gets Credit for Fixing Problems that Never Happened [Repenning & Sterman, 2001]

These two concepts altered my brain chemistry. Although Clarke's law is in reference to science fiction, I see it apply every day when bridging the gap between technology and humanity. As I approach 10 years in the tech industry I still can't help but feel a sense of mystic wonder - one which may never fade.

I've written this piece as a reflection on my career and my 20s - to the lessons I learned along the way. They say you underestimate what you can accomplish in ten years, and now I can confidently agree. Of course, this wouldn't be one of my blogs without a companion story.

~In a faraway land~
The Emperor lay his head in his hands as he cast his eyes over the war room table.

Invaders to the North, pirates in the West Sea, revolts in the Eastern Provinces, and famine in the South.

For decades had the Empire been in steady decline, losing land, wealth, and influence to the nations at its borders. The golden days of plenty the Emperor had enjoyed as a young prince were long gone, replaced only by suffering and strife.

To make matters worse the Emperor suspected dissidents within his ranks. The military commanders who had served his father in the wars of conquest, had all succumbed shortly before the Emperor acceded the throne. The constant influx of new blood left him uneasy. Sparks would fly at every council meeting, as tension would bubble and brew.

You see, in the Empire, magic was reserved for state use only. The Sorcerers who revolutionised and ushered in the golden age were appointed to the ministry - both to serve their country, and to control them. Today, most highly commissioned officers were second and third generation mages.

However, over time the Empire's enemies also grew wiser and more resourceful. They learned to counter, coexist, and even benefit from the fearsome sorcery. Their adapted tactics had steadily emboldened their transgressions, threatening the Emperor's claim to power.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

It was customary for the Emperor to not be involved in daily governing affairs, and he preferred it that way. Alas the situation had reached the point of intervention. His presence at the war council was enough to strike fear into even the most senior statesmen. Letting out a sigh of exasperation, he issued a command to the room.

"This council clearly does not work together. You shall each present to me a single plan, and I shall choose. Behave like your lives depend on it."

~The Sorcerer's Solution~
A sorcerer is a magic-user whose power is granted innately, usually hereditary. Brilliant sorcerers are exceptionally rare and most require practice to hone their talent.

The Grand Sorcerer proposed focusing development into a New experimental field of magic, promising that it would revolutionise both military and industrial might.

There were very few Sorcerers born with the 'gift' of this affinity, most of whom were already sequestered by the state for other duties. The lack of understanding in this field had been the by-product of competing imperial priorities as well as its inherent complexity. Even the basic comprehension of this kind of magic relied heavily on the mastery of many others, taking years to attain.

The Emperor covertly reassigned most state Sorcerers to the research project, leaving operations primarily in the hands of the civil administrators. In the public eye the mages simply vanished overnight, fuelling conspiracies and sentiments of abandonment.

The research however, showed remarkable progress. Within a year the Sorcerers made several breakthroughs that brought the arcane New Magic closer to practical application. As development ramped up and morale wore thin, it became harder and harder for the state to hide the program. And so, the Emperor ordered the Sorcerers to launch a demonstration of progress to keep the public at bay.

The frontline of the Northern border war had been steadily encroaching. With the faltering support of the country's agriculture and industry, the Northern defenders ceded city after city. But according to the Emperor - this was all going to change.

In the dead of night, the Sorcerers launched a devastating counterattack in the occupied zone.

It went as quickly as it came, and all that lay waste was destruction and death.

The Northern invaders, scattered and shattered by the unprecedented force, fled rapidly. Word spread quickly about the New Magic's power of obliteration throughout all the lands.

Back in the capital, the Emperor prepared for a victory speech - hailing the Sorcerers as saviours. Yet when the time came, his words rang out empty over the crowd.

There were no cheers, just stunned silence. A silence that slowly turned to frustration, a frustration that turned to disgust, and a disgust that turned to fury.

The people harboured feelings of disdain towards the Emperor and his neglect of their real problems. Whist the New Magic had both the ability to create AND destroy, that was wholly unclear to the citizens who only saw it as a far-fetched distraction from reality. The Emperor's tone-deaf display of scorching the earth in the Empire's own Northern province mirrored his disregard for his people.

Despite the unbound theoretical potential of the New Magic, nothing could save the Emperor from his own blind-sightedness and mismanagement.

Without trust in the state, the nation plunged into disarray. The provinces rebelled, declaring independence or seceding to join neighbouring countries. Although no one dared tried to overthrow the Emperor's capital directly from fear of the New Magic's unknown consequences.

Soon the Empire became a husk of its former glory. A mere city-state without tributes. Lacking the prior chokehold grip the state had on its Sorcerers, many fled or were captured. Although ironically, the Sorcerers themselves had little interest in politics. They happily continued developing the New Magic across the borders of the New World.

~The Wizard's Wish~
A wizard is a magic-user whose power is learned through practice and study. They may have some innate capability or be entirely taught, but are limited to the sophistication of the literature.

The Arch Wizard suggested opening the school of magic to the masses. This would allow the Empire to mobilise stronger conscripts and train reservists for national defence. His divinations also showed the peacetime benefits of magical training would help to improve productivity and loyalty to the crown.

The Emperor consented, and soon enacted two decrees. The former offering basic magical education for all citizens. The latter mandating military service for all able-minded men of age.

Given the previously reserved prestige and status associated with sorcery, many peasants leapt at the opportunity that magic could afford them. On the other hand, men in the middle-classes were coerced to enlist more due to the preferential treatment afforded to the mage-corps. Whatever their reason, people signed up in droves for magic classes, eager to get ahead.

This rapid shift in policy quickly strained the existing wizardry academies to capacity. Mages from across the Empire were diverted to satisfy the Emperor's decrees. The senior Sorcerers, Wizards, and Warlocks were tasked with military training and higher education in the cities. The apprentices were shipped off to set up new schools in the provinces.

The benefits of the Open Magic Program were felt within the year. Magical literacy skyrocketed tenfold, and the military bolstered its numbers in tandem. Through sheer numbers and determination, the newly empowered populace drove back the Northern invasion and turned their eyes to the Western Seas.

Armed with the ability to defend themselves independently of the navy, the sailors and traders finally stood a chance against the pirates. Lost cargoes reduced significantly, as the pirates diverted their attention to other, more vulnerable regions.

All the while, the rebellion in the East lost momentum organically. With a sense of hope and promises of prosperity the people of the East no longer felt overlooked by the Empire. The workers of the East began to band together and form guilds of magecraft, producing magical artifacts to further share magic amongst the people.

However, not everything was perfect. The famine in the heartland of the South had been temporarily staved off by imports from the other reinvigorated regions. But the poor harvests were unrelenting. Combined with the increased shortage of peasant labour, the farms were condemned to a slow and steady death...

Twenty years after the Emperor's decrees the Arch Wizard declared the Open Magic Program to be a resounding success. Once a rare sight on the streets of the city, magic was now ubiquitous - but most importantly it was accepted.

Perhaps this very acceptance was to become its downfall.

As time went on, magic had not only spread, but it became needed. As a commoner skill the bar was raised for opportunities that would have previously been granted in a heartbeat. A citizen mage had to be exceptional to stand out from the crowd, and even then, there was no guarantee of riches.

Sorcerers were rewarded for training more wizards, which left little time, resources, and motive for any deeper research. Eventually the population reached saturation in magical proficiency. There was little incentive to progress magical understanding, as doing so posed a threat to the system's very existence.

Fundamentally, the Open Magic Program favoured superficial instruction of basic magic with little to no teaching of the foundations. The quality of education also varied wildly in fidelity. From the prestigious academy of magic in the capital, to the guilds' schools in the East, and vocational outposts in the outer provinces; the disparity only amplified pre-existing inequalities.

The Emperor lived long and comfortably enough to abdicate the throne to his son. Framed as an act of grace, the New Emperor took the throne - only to find he had inherited a reign marked by shortcuts and complacency. The Empire was now fully transformed, but only propped up by citizens who begrudgingly perpetuated archaic magic. The young Emperor counted his days, knowing it was a disaster waiting to happen.

~The Warlock's Wargame~
A warlock is a magic-user whose power is granted by a higher being. It requires a sacrifice or deal, for a corresponding amount of power, which can be made by anyone.

The Chief Warlock was an ardent follower of the religion of the Old Gods. While the practice was technically outlawed centuries ago, the reasoning was long forgotten and enforcement was lax. The Warlocks' magical prowess was favourable enough for the state to overlook their cultish practices and permit their inclusion in the ministry.

Following a communion with his Patron, the Chief relayed an offer to the Emperor: Anyone may access a fraction of the power of the Old Gods for the simple price of 'acceptance'.

The Emperor was sceptical of the Chief's proposition, but also desperate for respite. He bargained: to restrict the offer only to members of the military.

The Patron agreed, and so the laws against the Old Religion were subtly repealed. The Warlocks got to work spreading the word of the Old Gods throughout the ranks of the army.

On the Northern front they began patronising soldiers one-by-one. Initially they were met with the same apprehension as the Emperor had displayed, but soon the results spoke for themselves. Soldiers who accepted the power of the Old God of War described it as a 'fire burning inside them'. A sense of strength, warmth, and belonging.

Other soldiers noticed the change, piquing their interest in the cold and desolate trenches. But perhaps what was most telling sign was those who accepted the power always lived to tell the tale. Entire squadrons would be seemingly wiped out in a skirmish - only for the sole survivor to be a Follower.

It didn't take long for most of the Northern defenders to Follow. Those who didn't were quick to perish.

You see, the magic of the Old Religion draws its power from the people who feed it. Once the entire army was subject to the God of War, they were unstoppable. Within weeks the Northern invaders were driven back to their homelands.

Word of the military turnaround reached the Emperor. Casting aside his reservations on the Old Religion, he commanded the army to push further North, crushing his enemies along the way. The Emperor revelled in this newfound sense of control - a power which he had never experienced before.

News of the Old Religion's renaissance spread like wildfire. Riding the wave of euphoria, the Chief Warlock humbly requested another audience with the Emperor. This time to offer patronage to all the Empire's citizens.

Seeing no fallout from submitting the army to the God of War, the Emperor gladly consented. The laws were changed once again, albeit publicly this time.

It wasn't long before the South was worshipping the God of Harvest for breaking the famine, and the merchants worshipping the God of Water for safe passage in the West Sea. Only the smiths and artisans of the Eastern Provinces continued to hold out against the Old Religion.

Their scepticism was born of fear of tainting the art and integrity of their work. This only intensified the rebellion in the region. Regardless, the Emperor had no reservations about forcing the East to Follow. He granted subsidies and concessions to the converted craftsmen and prioritised the export of their goods. Within the year the remaining rebels went out of business - Follow or perish.

With most of the Empire under the Religion's influence, productivity boomed and the gold rolled in. The Chief Warlock once again came to the Emperor with a proposition: to spread the Empire and the word of the Gods to the rest of the world. The price? The Emperor's sanctification as a figure in the Religion himself.

The Emperor felt an uneasy compulsion to accept. Given how much he had been granted already, he agreed, denying the thought of losing it all...

Years went by, the Empire expanded its borders but the Religion spread to even further horizons. Only on the other side of the world did the Religion meet its match - in other, conflicting religions.

The population had atrophied to the point of being completely reliant on the Gods power in everyday life. Any competing magical innovation from sorcerers and wizards was pale in comparison to the Religion, and incapable of garnering any attention at all. Although the Followers didn't seem to mind; faith was a small price to pay for the Religion's conveniences. Having become the way of life, the Empires armies were regularly shipped off to foreign lands to protect the Religious hegemony.

Gradually, the Religion's global ambitions began to demand greater patronage from the people. You see, the magic of the Religion draws its power from the people who feed it - and you can only conclude what happens when the people become powerless.

The Emperor saw what had become of his Empire. Without the freedom to determine their own future, his citizens had become mindlessly enslaved to the Religion. He was a Saint, but merely a figurehead, only speaking for the Warlocks who truly ran the nation. But even the Warlocks were losing their grip in their communions with their Patrons, a path that only spelled doom.

The Emperor lay his head in his hands and wept, as he now understood why the Old Religion was outlawed so long ago.

~Analysis~
I hope it's clear by now that magic is an allegory for cutting-edge technology. As for what specifically? Well, the answer changes over time. The "Empire" vaguely represents great powers over the course of history, but I see interesting parallels with the way modern companies are run.

What might be less obvious are the parables of the Sorcerers, Wizards, and Warlocks. Each serves as a cautionary tale to "Emperors" alike; on the consequences of giving in to sycophants and charlatans.

~~~
Sorcerer types are intensely passionate about new technology. They will sell you the dream with a promise that building something brand new can fix all of your problems. In practice, a solution is only as good as its execution, and nobody - not even the most brilliant Sorcerer - is perfect.

Even when something new seems unstoppable compared to the status quo, it is inversely counteracted by fear of the unknown and resistance to change. A prime contemporary example is the way solar power 'suffers from success':

Photovoltaics capture 'free' energy from the sun. Born from the innovations of the Space Race, solar panels are a shining example of state technology gone mainstream. In the early days of R&D the cost reduced rapidly year-on-year while efficiency steadily rose. Yet the adoption of something this revolutionary was not immediate nor widespread.

Economically, solar not only competed with existing interests in the fossil fuel industry, but also with itself. The opportunity cost of waiting for solar to get better was so low that it practically punished early adopters. The logistics of installing solar were poorly understood; not having to deal with the challenges of battery storage, grid overloads or e-waste disposal was a very appealing proposition to the averagely indifferent customer. Initial uptake was only successful in jurusdictions that backed grants and heavy subsidies.

Ironically, solar has only now begun to have its moment in the sun as the capital cost per Watt bottoms out. The market is far more willing to invest in something with predictable returns and longevity, rather than gambling on moonshot trends that face rapid obsolescence. I mean can you imagine if your laptop became a total brick every 6 months?

It's a sobering reality that pure innovation is not enough to get by in this world. The most successful hardware companies are those who drip-feed us with incremental improvements. Just enough to make you want the new model, but not so much that you regret your original purchase. Moore's Law is more of a self-fulfilling prophecy than it is grounded in the limits of engineering.

When compared to the challenges of achieving brand recognition and mass market adoption, all while fending off detractors and copycats; the technology part seems easy.

~~~
Wizard types are the evangelists of existing technology. They seek to transform the industry by moving the goalposts and advancing the baseline. This is no small feat, but if successful the Wizards cement themselves as the power brokers in the new order.

Opening the gates and lowering the barrier to entry confers both short and long term benefits. Empowered workers greatly increase the odds of reaching targets, yet one must be mindful not to take this power for granted. A textbook example of this is the evolution of the tertiary education system in the Western World.

Long ago, university education was rare and reserved for only those with the passion and privilege to attend [e.g. Sorcerers]. Then about a century ago, in the interwar post-industrial era, governments began to recognise the advantages of having an educated workforce [e.g. Wizards]. Higher education enrolment increased steadily over the course of the 20th century, and meteoric advances in technology followed.

Somewhere around the turn of the millennium things changed. By this time domestic university enrolment had plateaued, all while international demand from developing countries was exploding. Drawn by the prestige and promise of prosperity associated with Western education, it was not uncommon for families in developing nations to invest their life savings into sending their children to study abroad.

Therein lies the issue. Tertiary institutions changed from being public services into an export industry. Driven by bottomless demand and rewarded by the number of students they could graduate, many universities became degree-factories - funnelling endless supply into the workforce.

This has flow-on effects in the labour market. Corporate jobs now almost exclusively require degrees for entry-level positions, sometimes even mandating Masters or PhDs to even contend. Yet in many fields like software, where the industry advances so much faster than academia, the content of these degrees barely manifest in day-to-day problems.

There is no simple solution to this. The classical free-market economic response to high demand would be to increase prices [which already keeps occurring]. International students are not the problem, and banning them won't magically lower employer expectations. Yet building more universities to accomodate has just made the problem bigger.

Given the need for higher education, it is now an inelastic product. Students are willing to go into tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt just to get by. If left unchecked, generations of graduates will be plunged into corporate serfdom - a far cry from the promise of a better life.

Perhaps the way to break the cycle is to dismantle the inelasticity. If only there were a way to revolutionise education and leave more time for vocation? - only time will tell.

~~~
Warlock types are ambitious and seek to capitalise on any means available. They will offer you quick solutions and broker deals on your behalf - but beware of the strings attached.

The Warlock bond ranges from blindly accepting the terms and conditions of a service [which you never do right?], to signing a contract without reading it. Most of the time they lack explicit malice, and the repercussions are small if at all. In fact, the Warlocks themselves might not even know the full consequences of the deal until long after it's too late.

The Warlock parable evokes undertones of Big Tech and AI, but my example is far more personal. Over my career I've worn the hat of both a consultant and engineer, taking part in a broader more concerning trend.

I started work as an intern in 2015, consulting for the Australian Public Service. The government was embarking on its Digital Transformation journey but resistance to change was strong in the public sector. Public servant headcount had been capped that year, causing them to fear the loss of their jobs. The administration knew they did not have the capability, nor the culture to accomplish the transformation internally - and looked elsewhere for help.

The Liberals [the Australian conservative party - yes, I know it's confusing] granted billions of dollars in tenders to private firms to implement the agenda. This technicality bypassed the headcount restrictions, notionally keeping their election promises. The ensuing 'gold rush' compelled many large incumbent audit firms to rapidly expand into advisory and assurance consulting. Work which essentially involved assessing existing processes, proposing modifications, and overseeing the changes.

The Big Four firms won the majority of the work throughout the 2010s. Since decision makers considered them to be the 'safe' option, they were unwilling to stick their necks out for smaller competitors. And why would they pick anyone else? The work the Big Four delivered was a cut above anything the public servants could accomplish.

They say the reward for good work is more work. This is a bane if you're paid a flat salary, but a massive benefit when you're paid by the hour. Naturally, the government started outsourcing major delivery contracts for the transformation program.

Eventually the line between consulting and contracting became so blurred that not even public servants could tell anyone apart in the office. The private sector had crept into performing core-competency work which was traditionally handled in-house. Shelling out the core of operations to a third party sounds like a terrible idea, but nobody seemed to care as long as they continued to get paid.

That was just it. The public service was so reliant on contractors to do their core jobs that their internal capability atrophied, only to require even more help to survive. All the while, as the Big Four's profits and influence grew so did their conflicts of interest. Being both auditors and advisors compromised the integrity of both sides - somewhat like marking your own homework.

Eventually, following the change in government in 2022, the corruption came into to the public light through the PwC Tax Scandal. Alas subsequent efforts by the government to reduce reliance on contractors have been slow to take effect. Breaking the shackles of privatisation requires an even stronger hammer, one the government does not have at its disposal.

It may seem counterintuitive, but I do laud the government for seeing the trajectory and changing course. When the difference between a 10x and 1000x improvement is incomprehensible it can seem like the deal of a lifetime. But the appeal of soliciting help from a 'higher power' is only as strong as you are weak. It takes strength and fortitude of will to resist temptation - I suppose scripture at least got that one right.

~~~
The Emperor's folly is one of ignorance. He lacks the understanding of magic, and turns a blind eye to the inter-politics of his advisors. Sitting in an ivory tower, his involvement in daily affairs has boiled down to thinking that betting on a single horse can win him the race. But ruling is not a race, it's a team effort, and only when the horses work together can they pull a carriage forward.

In business you need all three kinds of Sorcerers, Wizards, and Warlocks. I've filled each of these roles myself, seeing and feeling the impact of having one without the others - as both a citizen and a mage.

Perhaps it's a misconception too that the mages would have to coexist in peaceful harmony. Rather, it's more of a stable state of healthy competition. Like an eternal game of rock, paper, scissors:

The Sorcerers innovate, countering stagnation and monopolistic domination.

The Wizards teach, fighting scepticism and deceptive misinformation.

The Warlocks capitalise, demanding progress and opposing complacency.

Although maybe the realest allegory of all is that despite the issues afflicted upon the Empire, the Emperor escapes personal accountability. He clings to power long enough to see everyone around him suffer, yet does not truly understand the same pain himself.

~Reflection~
Consider the concept of Technomancy to be the delicate and arcane balancing act required to survive in today's industry. Technology has a tendency to constantly reinvent itself and a good Technomancer needs to know how to cater to - and to be - each kind of Sorcerer, Wizard or Warlock.

In my own strangely anxious little way, thinking about how bad things could possibly be - and how to overcome them - makes me appreciate everything a great deal more.

As an elder Zillennial I'm privy to the struggles of both generations aside me. Advances in modern medicine suggest we'll live perhaps 10 years longer than our parents. Yet by all reports our quality of life at the corresponding age is worse.

To me it seems like that extra decade is our 20s, spent hopelessly lost, finding ourselves, and playing catch-up.

I've seen a generation of Millennial 'Wizards' come to terms with shattered promises. Study well, get a degree, get a good job, and work hard. When reality does not meet expectations who is responsible? Did the expectant who held up their end of the bargain expect too much? Or could the provider only provide as little as they could afford?

Common rebuttals I hear to this question are ones that cite tradition. "It's always been this way" resounds like a hollow defence from a zealot who lost the rationale [or never had it]. But I can't fault someone for thinking this way, the process likely originated for a good reason. Only after being passed down generations did it become fabled lore - designed to be immortalised.

Curiously the human race is resourceful. Gen Z is often noted as being 'lazy', but I see this more as a denouncement of traditional process than outright sloth. When faced with the prospects of futile careers, they have made a remarkable shift towards working 'smarter not harder'. Shorter attention spans and cravings for immediate feedback are a symptom of the technology they grew up with. These have in turn driven a culture of action - one that clashes with the establishments who depend on perpetuating inefficiency.

Yet somehow, it works. By capturing the productivity gains from 'smart' shortcuts and cashing them in for themselves, employers are forced to adapt. In order to claw back the benefits, companies are compelled to update their processes to adopt "the new normal". Whether it's a conscious tactic or not, it's a brilliant way to garner credit for otherwise thankless work.

In 2025 we're at in inflection point where this cycle cannot continue organically. The paradox of productivity is that improvements are so quickly taken for granted, absorbed and forgotten that we hardly have time to reap the benefits. I attribute this to the simple fact that:

People only want what they cannot have.

However, this adage also holds the key to our survival. As we increasingly solicit the aid of almighty AI from the 'Chief Warlocks' of Big Tech, we must remember that fully relinquishing one's control will only jeopardise one's ability to seek what they want in the future. Noone will ever stop wanting more, and we should be rightfuly scared.

Nowadays, the gates are open for anyone to be a Technomancer; Emperors, mages, and citizens alike. I humbly offer a piece of advice to those who embark on this journey:

Cover all the bases, play all sides, bet on all the horses. Pit your Patrons against each other and watch them fight. If playing 'Follow the Leader' is already so great and easy, what do you really have to lose from choosing twice or thrice? Seek a second opinion, then a third and a fourth if they don't align. As absurd this may sound, the fear and the greed are your friends; for it is their dichotomy which drives the pursuit of happiness.

Your proficiency in Technomancy will only grow as you learn to discern that the truth lies somewhere amidst the differences. Do everything within your control to keep the competition alive and retain your freedom of will, lest they eventually come for that too.

~Afterword~
I fully acknowledge that this piece contains a generous dose of cynicism, forged from the idea that you should hope for the best but prepare for the worst. In truth, I am eternally grateful for the position I find myself in today. I can wholeheartedly say my friends, family, partners, and colleagues have given me more help than I could ever have asked for. I hope that through my actions and my words I may continue to help repay them in kind.