Austin, TX · People Operations · Organizational Transformation
People Operations, workforce analytics, and organizational design
My work sits at the intersection of People Operations, workforce analytics, organizational design, and HR technology. I'm most interested in helping organizations build people functions that can actually scale — without losing the ability to execute.
“Human resources are like natural resources; they’re often buried deep. You have to go looking for them.”— Sir Ken Robinson
Fifteen years across startups, mid-market companies, and large enterprise. I came into HR through behavioral science and have spent most of my career at the intersection of people strategy and operational infrastructure.
Some writing from over the years. Mostly on behavioral science, HR operations, and talent. Some of it holds up better than others.
Most of the organizations I've worked with that struggle with change — new technology, rapid growth, leadership transitions — aren't struggling because of strategy. They're struggling because the underlying people systems aren't solid enough to absorb it.That's usually where the real work is.
The domains, disciplines, and ways of working where experience runs deep — not surface familiarity.
The career has moved from behavioral science and early consulting work into HR technology, people analytics, and eventually building and running People Operations functions. Tap any role to expand.

Outside of work. I've always thought that what people do with their time when no one's evaluating it says something real about how they operate.
Not a blog. A notebook — observations and experiments from the work, written down mostly because writing helps me think through things.
↗ github.com/mikecillaSomething I didn't plan for happened while trying to transfer context between AI tools. Turned out to be more interesting than the original task.
It started the way most useful things do: without a plan.
About two and a half years into my role as VP of People Operations, I realized I had been having a running conversation with an AI — ChatGPT, at the time — about nearly every significant work challenge I was navigating. Workforce analytics. HRIS architecture. Org design. Business cases. Executive communications. Leadership decisions I wasn't ready to talk through with anyone inside the organization.
Somewhere in all of that, I had accumulated something I hadn't set out to build: a living record of how I think.
The Knowledge Transfer Problem
When I started working with Claude — which has genuinely different strengths — I hit the same wall every organization hits when a key employee leaves: the new person is capable, but they don't have the context. They don't know the history. They don't know how you think, what you've already tried, or what matters.
So I did what I would have done with a new director joining my team. I onboarded Claude.
Not by uploading files. By transferring knowledge the way knowledge actually transfers — with documentation, examples of quality work, communication preferences, recurring priorities, historical context, and calibration over time. I shared how I make decisions. What I care about. Where I've been burned. What kinds of outputs I find useful and what reads as generic to me.
It worked. But what happened in the process was more interesting than I expected.
AI Job-Skill Fit: A Classic I/O Problem
One of the foundational concepts in Industrial-Organizational Psychology is person-job fit — the idea that performance improves when an individual's capabilities align well with what the role actually requires. Hire for the wrong fit and you get friction, underperformance, and frustration regardless of raw capability.
What I noticed, gradually, was that the same principle applied to AI systems.
| Capability | ChatGPT | Claude |
|---|---|---|
| Longitudinal memory & context | Strong — 2.5 years of accumulated history | Limited at first; built over time |
| Strategic conversation | Strong — iterative, relationship-aware | Strong — rigorous, structurally precise |
| Large document synthesis | Adequate | Exceptional |
| Visual artifacts & design | Limited | Strong — website, decks, structured outputs |
| Long-form writing & editing | Good | Excellent — nuanced, voice-preserving |
| Org context & leadership style | Deep — years of calibration | Developing — through deliberate onboarding |
Different tools. Different fit profiles. Different jobs. The right response wasn't to pick one — it was to understand what each was actually good at, assign accordingly, and manage the handoffs between them. Which is, again, exactly what you'd do with a team of people.
The Unexpected Output: A Leadership User Manual
Here's the part I didn't anticipate.
To transfer context effectively, Claude had to do something unusual: it had to analyze and articulate how I think. Communication patterns. Decision preferences. Leadership tendencies. What I find motivating. Where I tend to overcomplicate. How I process ambiguity. What quality looks like to me versus what adequate looks like.
What emerged from that process was the most detailed and accurate leadership profile I have ever received. More nuanced than any 360 feedback I've been through. More honest than most coaching conversations. Grounded in actual behavioral evidence rather than survey responses.
Not in a mystical sense. In a very practical one: the act of making my thinking legible to a system that needed explicit context forced a level of self-reflection that implicit, accumulated organizational knowledge never demands.
What I Took From It
The biggest surprise wasn't how much work AI could absorb. It was how much organizational psychology still mattered.
Onboarding. Role clarity. Capability development. Knowledge transfer. Performance enablement. Job-skill fit. Every concept that governs how humans integrate into organizations turned out to apply — with remarkable fidelity — to how AI systems integrate into a leadership operating model.
That probably shouldn't be surprising. The underlying challenge in both cases is the same: you have a capable system, and the question is whether the context, structure, and role definition around it are good enough for that capability to actually show up.
Most organizations that struggle with AI adoption aren't struggling because the technology is insufficient. They're struggling because they've skipped the organizational work that would make the technology useful. They've bought the hire before building the job.
I've spent fifteen years arguing that HR should function more like an engineering discipline. It turns out the inverse is also true: AI adoption, done well, looks a lot like good people management.
I was trying to train an AI system to understand how I work. What came out of it was a more detailed picture of how I actually think than I'd gotten from any formal assessment process. That wasn't the point, but it was the interesting part.
The first Field Note described how I onboarded Claude to an existing body of organizational context — treating it less like a tool and more like a new team member who needed to understand how I think before they could be genuinely useful. What I didn't fully describe was what happened in that process that I didn't plan for.
To transfer context effectively, I needed to make my thinking explicit. Not summarized — explicit. Not "here are my priorities" but here is how I reason through a tradeoff, here is what I've tried that didn't work, here is what quality looks like to me versus what merely adequate looks like, here is the question I run every major decision through before I commit to it.
That exercise produced something I've been thinking about since.
The methodology
The knowledge transfer used a structured four-pass analysis of a corpus of 297 professional conversations spanning roughly three and a half years — December 2022 through early 2026. The corpus covered workforce analytics, HRIS architecture, organizational design, governance modeling, business cases, executive communications, and leadership decisions I was working through in real time.
Pass 0 was a calibration pass: classify every conversation by type, signal strength, and analytical value. 51% came back high-signal. 79% fell into strategic analysis or outbound drafting — an unusually clean corpus for behavioral extraction, because most of the low-signal noise had been filtered out by how I use AI in the first place.
Pass 1 extracted voice and communication architecture from 89 outbound drafting conversations — emails, leadership memos, LinkedIn writing, executive messaging. The goal was a replication guide: not a description of how I write, but a model precise enough to produce output I wouldn't need to substantially rewrite.
Pass 2 mapped cognitive and decision frameworks. Not what I decided, but how I decided — the sequencing logic, the tradeoff patterns, the things I consistently prioritized and the things I consistently refused. Adversarial reasoning turned out to be undercounted by keyword detection; it appeared embedded throughout strategic threads, not just in the conversations explicitly framed as pressure-testing.
Pass 3 built the strategic domain map. HR Technology dominated at 72 conversations. Organizational design and governance followed at 29. Workforce analytics at 24. Financial modeling at 22. The concentration wasn't surprising — but seeing it enumerated made the shape of where I actually spend my thinking visible in a way that felt new.
Extracted from 297 professional conversations spanning 3.3 years. Not self-reported. Not a survey. Signals derived from observed behavior — writing, decisions, organizational design, and strategic reasoning under pressure.
Pass 4 extracted leadership philosophy. Management style. Decision ethics. Non-negotiables. The things I would do regardless of political cost, and the things I consistently refused regardless of how they were framed.
What the profile produced
The synthesis document that came out of the four passes was the most detailed and accurate leadership profile I have ever received. More specific than any 360 feedback I've been through. More behaviorally grounded than any coaching engagement. More honest — because it wasn't filtered through social desirability, hierarchy anxiety, or the natural tendency people have to soften what they observe about you when they know you'll read it.
It named things I recognized immediately: the infrastructure-before-intelligence sequencing, the compounding credibility principle, the Orchestrator identity, the six non-negotiables. But it also named things I hadn't consciously articulated — the specific rhetorical structures I use to build arguments, the precise tradeoffs I make under pressure, the places where my restraint is an active choice and the places where it might be a blind spot.
One finding I found genuinely clarifying: data honesty appeared as a non-negotiable across six distinct refusal patterns in the corpus. Not as a stated value — as an observed behavioral pattern. I had always thought of data honesty as a working principle. Seeing it documented as something I had actually enacted repeatedly, under different pressures, in different contexts, was different from believing it about myself.
The I/O psychology observation
I've spent most of my career adjacent to talent assessment — pre-employment testing, behavioral interviewing, 360 methodologies, engagement surveys. The fundamental challenge in all of it is the same: how do you get an accurate signal about how someone actually thinks and behaves, rather than how they present themselves or how observers perceive them through their own filters?
The traditional answer involves validated instruments, normed samples, structured rater training, and statistical controls for bias. All of that matters. None of it fully solves the problem.
What the four-pass analysis did differently was use behavioral evidence directly. Not self-report. Not observer ratings. The actual decisions, the actual writing, the actual reasoning patterns — extracted from the work itself over a sustained period of time.
That's not a validated assessment methodology. There's no normative sample. There's no inter-rater reliability. You can't replicate it with a 20-minute survey. I want to be honest about what it isn't.
But as a way of generating self-knowledge — of making the implicit explicit, of seeing patterns in your own behavior that you don't notice from inside the day-to-day — it produced something I haven't gotten from any formal process. The closest analog in the I/O literature might be structured behavioral interviewing, where the premise is that past behavior under specific conditions is the best predictor of future behavior. This was that, applied to a longitudinal record of real conditions rather than recalled examples.
I don't know what to do with that observation yet. But I suspect the most interesting question it opens up isn't about AI at all — it's about what it means to have a durable, longitudinal record of how you actually think, rather than a periodic snapshot of how you describe yourself thinking.
Austin, TX · Open to conversation
Happy to connect if you're working through something in People Operations, thinking about HR technology, or just want to compare notes on any of the above.
The views, opinions, and content expressed on this site are solely my own and do not represent the positions, strategies, or opinions of any current or former employer. All information is intended to represent my individual professional profile and perspectives.