Strategy (and its humanity)

Introductory business modules are often perceived as “fluffy” – filled with reasoning and concepts that feel common-sensical, seemingly lacking the rigor or hair-pulling frustration demanded by the equations I encounter in mechanical engineering. While the few business and entrepreneurship courses I have undertaken during my undergraduate studies have provided a refreshing respite from the mathematical rigor of my core discipline, I have also questioned their depth and real-world applicability. However, through this reflection on the value of my business-facing modules and experiences at NUS, I have come to see business strategy beyond its rigidity – as a human practice, shaped by emotions, uncertainty and lived experiences.

The first business module I took was EG2301 Value Creation in Innovation in Year 2, which introduced the fundamentals of product viability through developing value propositions, exploring business models, and designing go-to-market approaches. This was done by selecting a technical product or service in the early weeks of the module and progressively applying a combination of customer discovery, market sizing, competitive analysis and business modelling frameworks to shape a holistic commercialisation strategy as the final deliverable. However, a key struggle I faced, as noted in my module reflection (Figure 1), was synthesising the frameworks into a coherent and compelling commercialisation strategy using all the required frameworks. Our chosen technology, Direct Air Capture (DAC), was a particularly difficult fit – a nascent, capital-intensive solution designed to remove carbon dioxide directly from the atmosphere. Its public-good value was inherently hard to monetise, its infrastructure requirements were technically complex and the market ecosystem around it was still underdeveloped. With no clear customer segments and underdeveloped market dynamics, the frameworks we applied felt speculative and forced. These factors made the overall application feel fragmented and ultimately hindered our ability to present a clear and compelling case.

While I understood the purpose of each framework and appreciated how they were meant to shape a holistic commercialisation strategy, I found the business frameworks difficult to apply meaningfully beyond the controlled academic environment. Part of the challenge stemmed from the expectation to apply every framework taught in the course, which made the process feel rigid and prescriptive rather than strategic. It often felt like we were working backwards – manipulating the frameworks to force a convincing commercialisation strategy, rather than using them selectively to uncover meaningful insights. This reinforced my initial impression that introductory business models were overly rigid and simplified – useful for structured learning, but not reflective of real-world business decision-making. Unlike the academic environment, where clarity and coherence were rewarded, real-world outcomes seemed to be shaped by a complex interplay of timing, relationships and perception – often backed by more robust tools such as advanced financial modelling and data-driven reasoning.

It was with this mindset that I approached my NUS Overseas Colleges (NOC) experience in Year 3, hoping it would offer a more grounded view of how business decisions unfolded in real time. While my internship work was largely technical, the entrepreneurship modules I took alongside introduced me to aspects of business pedagogy and practice, such as engaging with real-world business cases, writing teaching notes and pitching business ideas. In particular, TR3203N Start-up Case Study & Analysis was an opportunity for me to write a teaching case, a narrative-style account of a dilemma faced by my internship company, and to analyse it through a corresponding teaching note, which presented my recommended solution. Conversing with the CEO, Carlos Ospina, revealed the emotional and strategic weight of early-stage decision-making – filled with bold moves, personal sacrifice, moments of optimism and uncertainty. Listening to his recount of the company’s growth made me empathise with the business beyond my assignment – I was part of its unfolding narrative.

The teaching case I wrote in 2024 focused on a dilemma the company faced back in 2022, when Ospina had just taken over as CEO and had to choose between three strategic paths: pursuing alternative fundraising, focusing on organic product sales or seeking strategic partnerships. In my teaching note, I employed evaluative tools such as a pros-and-cons table and a simple prioritisation matrix to recommend the organic sales route – which was also the path Ospina chose. Though my analysis was simplified to meet the structure of a coherent teaching case and note, it nevertheless felt comprehensive and convincing. Ospina’s reasoning was compelling, his choices appeared strategic, and the financial projections and potential partnerships he shared during my internship were optimistic. As I wrote the epilogue of my teaching note (Figure 2), summing up Ospina’s toil, his emotions and his personal wager on his vision for the company, I genuinely believed the business was on the right track. Yet, just a week after my internship ended, I received news that the company had laid off all its employees after running out of funds – a heartbreaking end for a team that had poured so much into staying afloat.

While I was aware of the inherent volatility of start-up culture, experiencing it firsthand was a sobering reminder that even the “right” decisions, carefully weighed in my teaching note and logically reasoned by Ospina, could still lead to failure. It solidified my understanding that the structured frameworks I employed in EG2301 and TR3203N function best not as rigid guarantees of successful outcomes, but as simplified organising principles that must remain adaptable to lived realities. They are useful for learning how to reason through uncertainty, but they cannot capture the full emotional and interpersonal stakes of real decision-making.

I had initially critiqued introductory business modules for their lack of rigour, but I have come to recognise their value in simplifying the inherent messiness of business-making and in laying the foundational logic that enabled me to appreciate “business-thinking” during NOC. Recognising that theory and practice do not always align, I have come to see that learning to hold both in tension is key to reconciling my business education with my NOC experiences, and essential in navigating the ambiguity inherent in business strategy.

TR3203N, in narrating a dilemma my internship company faced, revealed that what gives strategy its humanity goes beyond data and models – it lies in narrative: the story being told, the people making decisions and the stakes they hold. Ospina’s decision to pursue the organic sales route, and later to let go of his employees, were not just calculated moves – but were also deeply emotionally acts of leadership grounded in belief, timing and responsibility. Strategy, I came to experience, is not only about planning and execution; it is deeply human, shaped by uncertainty and enacted through judgment. As a dynamic, lived process, strategy draws its complexity and richness from the fact that it is made by people – not just derived from models. This realisation is particularly important as I transition from a student to a working professional. Coming from an engineering background where outcomes often feel deterministic – solve the equation correctly to get the best outcome – witnessing the emotional undercurrents of business strategy unsettled that assumption in a necessary way. It reminded me that the working world will demand not only clear reasoning, but also an ability to navigate ambiguity, work with people and lead through uncertainty. Seeing strategy as a human practice, rather than just an analytical one, has shaped how I want to approach the decisions and dilemmas I will inevitably face in the future – not just as problems to be solved, but as stories to be empathised with.