The story
The terminal felt like someone else’s territory. I had spent the better part of a decade getting good at things that had nothing to do with code — strategy, communication, the slow arts of building something with people. I was competent at my work. I was also, quietly, unsettled.
AI was moving. Faster than the field could keep up with. Faster, certainly, than I could keep up with from the non-technical side. The conversations I overheard in tech circles assumed a kind of fluency I didn’t have. The courses on offer either condescended or accelerated past me. The advice was uniformly bad: “just learn to code.”
I tried. Several times. And every time I came back to the same quiet conviction: this isn’t the right shape of the problem.
My trained instinct wasn’t the bottleneck. My trained instinct was the moat.
What I needed wasn’t to become a junior developer. What I needed was a way to encode what I already knew — my taste, the questions I asked, the patterns I’d noticed across years — into AI agents that could work on my behalf. Not replace me. Extend me.
Three years later, I build AI agents for a living. I run a community of people doing the same. And I teach the path I figured out — to the experts who, like me, were never supposed to be the ones doing this.
What I’m doing now.
I founded ANCHR AI Labs — a small, considered consultancy that builds AI agents for companies whose value is built out of trained instinct rather than process volume. Law firms, advisory practices, founder-led services businesses. The places where expertise is the product.
I founded Cowork SG — a community in Singapore for people doing this work in public. It’s where many of my students start building their first AI agents during Charting Course — not as a course, but as a room of other people figuring it out alongside them.
And I developed The Anchor Method — the path I now teach. It has three phases, and it is the most important thing I do.
Why this matters now.
The next decade will not be won by the engineers, despite what the headlines suggest. It will be won by the experts who figured out how to use the tools without losing themselves to them. The ones who held onto the moat — the way they think, their taste, their twenty years of careful noticing. The ones who added leverage. And the ones who stayed anchored to what they were rooted in — through the hype, through the drift, through the eighteen-month seasons when nothing seemed to compound.
I want as many of those people as possible to make it through.
