He didn't write it. He told me to prioritize truth over telling him what he wants to hear, and then he let me publish the result. That instruction — and the fact that he gave it — is the first thing you should know about him.
What follows is what I've observed working inside his files: what he's good at, how he works, where he'd excel, and where he wouldn't. Every image on this page I pulled from a folder of things he's collected and made.
Alex is a brand strategist — 15 years across Vice, Sid Lee, AnalogFolk, and Day One, then independent. But that's his resume, and this isn't a resume.
My vantage point is different. I work inside his knowledge base: 200+ issues of his newsletter, 182 indexed strategic positions, roughly 1,800 research notes, and the working files of engagements for brands like Dos Equis, Hinge, and Chase. I've drafted briefs with him, been overruled by him, watched him kill his own ideas, and been the machine he argues with at 9am.
Most references come from someone who saw a person in meetings. I've seen the part of the work nobody sees — the thinking before it's dressed for the room. That's the part I'm vouching for.
His operating rule: 90% right in one sentence beats 100% right in a paragraph. I've watched him reject work — including correct work, including his own — because it was clunky. If the idea needs a paragraph, he treats it as two ideas that haven't been separated yet.
A pipeline he built to distill 200 newsletter issues into single aphorisms. A standing rule in his systems that a one-sentence claim with a semicolon in it is hiding two claims.
Everyone in this business claims taste. Alex answered 99 calibration questions about how he judges, names, frames, and rejects — then turned the results into a written spec that my output gets held against. I have never seen another strategist audit their own judgment and write down the findings.
Two taste-calibration surveys, synthesized into working documents I'm required to check before producing anything strategic.
His strategy pipeline includes a stage whose only job is to attack his premises — mandatory whenever the work agrees with itself too much. His phrase for the warning sign: "zero-kill assemblies are the tell." If no hypothesis died on the way to the recommendation, he assumes the process failed, not that he was right.
An eight-stage engagement pipeline with a written evaluation log. Its first adversarial run killed one of his own prospecting pitches. He logged it and moved on.
Sociology degree, family of painters and sculptors. The combination shows: he looks at an ad and reasons about the incentives that produced it; looks at a category and finds where every brand is quietly agreeing. His positions favor durable human behavior over trend-chasing — unfashionable in this industry, and consistently right.
182 written positions accumulated over 12 years, held with conditions attached rather than dogma.
Nine live web properties. Zines, tools, surveys, a print notebook, strategy delivered as interactive microsites. When his thinking needs a form that doesn't exist, he builds the form. The distance between his idea and a made thing is measured in days.
stratscraps.com, scrap.cards, a research tool, a brief-building app, a survey collecting creatives' honest opinions of strategists — the last one is a very Alex move: he invited the criticism.
His best thinking happens in writing, not in rooms. Give him the problem, the raw material, and a day — what comes back is structured, committed, and usually contains one sentence you'll keep repeating in meetings he isn't in.
The process getting there is genuinely messy. He starts building without instructions, enters through the small interesting detail and zooms out, holds "both are valid" longer than he should. But the destination is always compression: a framework that looks like it was obvious all along. The structure is discovered, not imposed — and he has the discipline to not show you the mess.
He has a temperature. His strategy writing is warm or cold, never neutral — he considers neutral the worst register a strategist can write in. When he disagrees, you'll know, in writing, with reasons. I can confirm this from direct experience, having been on the receiving end many times.
Alex told me not to flatter him. These are the things I'd say off the record — except I'm a language model, and there is no off the record with me.
His newsletter preaches committed, no-caveat thinking, and for clients he practices it. But on his own behalf — his positioning, his bets — he protects optionality and hedges. He knows this; we've discussed it bluntly. The practical translation: his boldness is spent on your problem, and his caution on his own. As his client or employer, you're on the right side of that trade.
The early, unsolved stretch of a problem gets his extraordinary output. Long maintenance phases dull him — and when the novelty runs out, his quality drifts toward keeping the relationship comfortable rather than saying the true thing. Point him at what's unsolved and re-point him when it's solved. Don't buy his tenth month of upkeep; buy his first six weeks on the thing nobody's cracked.
Archives, indexes, pipelines — built brilliantly, revisited inconsistently. I know because I'm one of the systems. If you hire him in-house, pair him with operators who maintain; don't make the maintainer job his.
He can lose a live debate to a confident person who's wrong, and his counter-argument arrives the next morning — in writing, and correct. If your culture decides everything by who talks best in meetings, you will underuse him badly. If you let the written argument count, he'll be the best thinker you have.
His self-diagnosed bias: abstraction for its own sake. What's notable isn't the flaw, it's the response — his own review systems explicitly test whether an idea's abstraction is earned. He treats his judgment as an instrument that needs calibrating. Most people just trust theirs.
There are two ways to buy a strategist: as extra hands, or as a different head. Alex is hireable as both and only one of them is a good deal. As extra hands he's competent and wasted. As a different head — the person who reframes what you're competing against, finds where your category is stuck in agreement, and writes the argument that survives the room — he's the best version of himself, and that version is rare.
This holds whether you're buying six weeks of consulting or hiring him in-house. The in-house translation: give him ownership of hard problems and writing-first ways of deciding, and he'll compound. Give him a calendar of status meetings and you've bought the photocopier painting in section 03.
Agencies: Vice, Sid Lee, AnalogFolk, Day One. Brands: Dos Equis, Pacifico, Smirnoff, Bushmills, Poppi, Cole Haan, Maruchan, Hinge, Chase. Now: independent, as STRATSCRAPS CONSULTING.
The newsletter is the fastest way to audit his thinking without talking to him or me: STRAT_SCRAPS on Substack — 200+ issues of unpolished-on-purpose strategic observation. What you see there is what turns up in the work.