I work in Parliament. For those who know, means that there are at least three times a day where I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. Fun right? Not really, and it has the potential to be really embarrassing at times. Nevertheless, I carry with me a revolutionary piece of technology that carries me through these daily occurrences and allows me to save face and curb the embarrassment. Behold, the notebook. I’m serious. Whilst being one of the greatest cinematic masterpieces to come out of the UK (behind Paddington 2, of course), Hot Fuzz’s celebration of the humble notebook is not unfounded. It has truly saved my life more times than I’d like to admit. Whether it’s helping me remember long-winded titles, amendments, or just who’s turn it is to buy milk, the notebook has seen me through, and will continue to do so. When I first walked through Westminster Hall and into my long-coveted internship in the House of Lords, I carried a mini, Portcullis-decorated notebook in my bag. At the time, I had no idea if it would become a treasure trove of insights about constitutional quirks and the daily rhythms of a Baroness—or if it would join the silent graveyard of redundant notebooks on my desk. Spoiler alert: it became the former. By the end of my time in the House of Lords, my notebook was bursting with notes—not just on constitutional oddities, but on every productive discussion and fascinating encounter I’d had. It wasn’t just about documenting what happened. It was about reflecting on those moments, maximizing learning opportunities, and creating a roadmap of people I wanted to meet and learn from. In fact, that same notebook was so invaluable that it became my guidebook during my subsequent internship in the House of Commons. The lessons I’d captured helped deepen my understanding of parliamentary procedure and the United Kingdom’s constitutional framework, enabling me to hit the ground running. Here’s the thing about "career snowballing": it’s all about drawing on past experiences, leveraging lessons learned, and applying them to bigger, better opportunities. This approach not only boosts your productivity (shout-out to all my deliverology fans) but also sets you up for success in whatever career path you’re pursuing.

In my previous contributions to this platform, I have explored the softer skills that, in my opinion, lead to thriving, rewarding careers – from mastering personal finesse to ace corporate interviews or creatively finding alternative pathways to success using the Third Door, snowballing to the top of your game involves combining a whole host of skills and approaches. Above all this, however, there is one skill that underpins everything. Something so fundamental that without it everything else falls flat: simply, the ability to get sh*t done. That’s right, execution. Planning backwards, thinking forwards, and setting out a career strategy mean nothing without actually implementing what you brainstorm, think, and plan. I’m going to go straight to the heart of why this is. Sir Michael Barber, educator, author, and former Head of the Prime Ministers’ Delivery Unit (2001-2005) is one of my favourite writers when it comes to government and policymaking. His How to run a government is a call to action for government leaders and public servants to avoid the tendency of getting bogged down in strategy and planning, and refocus their attention on execution and outcomes. It is both a manifesto and a manual for action-oriented government, drawing on Barber’s experience advising administrations in both the UK and the US, and as far away as Malaysia. Barber’s "deliverology" model, which he developed from his PMDU experience, emphasizes data-driven performance metrics, accountability, and a relentless focus on outcomes. His approach has influenced governments and institutions around the world and serves as a guide for leaders in both the public and private sectors seeking practical frameworks to improve large-scale operations. The wisdom in How to run a government, however, delivers a message for all. Not just policymakers and public servants. No, the importance of, crudely, getting sh*t done, is inherent in every career pathway and every walk of life.