In 2018, Cape Town was on the brink of a complete water shutdown. “Day Zero” wasn’t a metaphor—it was a countdown. Taps were projected to go dry in a matter of weeks. But they didn’t. Not because of some last-minute engineering miracle or sweeping policy change, but because people collectively changed their behavior. They shortened showers, reused greywater, and slashed consumption. The city’s hydrologic models provided early warnings—but what mattered most was public trust in those models and willingness to adapt.
That wasn’t just engineering. That wasn’t just diplomacy. That was creative problem-solving.
Singapore offers a quieter—but equally instructive—example. Lacking freshwater sources and dependent on imports, the country faced long-term water insecurity. So it invested in innovation—developing NEWater (ultra-clean recycled wastewater) and desalination plants. But success wasn’t just technical. Singapore launched national education campaigns, handed out bottles of NEWater at parades, and reframed public attitudes about drinking recycled water. Public acceptance was baked into the system design.
Back in Boston, two quieter crises are converging: sea-level rise and youth homelessness. Technically, we know what to do—seawalls, green infrastructure, affordable housing. But in practice, implementation stalls. That’s where people like Connor Schoen, co-founder of Breaktime, come in. He didn’t launch a perfect plan; he made a workable one. By repurposing underused city buildings and connecting homeless youth to employment, he built a system that bridged policy and lived reality.
Many everyday decisions reflect similar mindset. A student, Michael, accepted early decision to a top college. But later, he learned that other schools were offering him better financial aid. He was locked in. That experience shaped how he advised his younger brother: don’t lock in too early. Choose flexibility over prestige. His brother chose a community college with a guaranteed transfer. It wasn’t the fanciest route—but it was resilient and strategic under real-life constraints.
That’s engineering diplomacy at the personal scale.
These stories—Cape Town, Singapore, Boston, and Michael’s college dilemma—point to a deeper insight: solving hard problems today requires a different kind of mindset. A mindset that blends analysis with empathy, logic with negotiation, and systems thinking with pragmatic actions.
It’s the mindset of an Engineer-Diplomat.
An Engineer-Diplomat is part scientist, part humanist, and part decision-maker. Like a scientist, they seek clarity and rigor. Like a humanist, they understand values and narratives. Like a diplomat, they know learning by doing is more important than grandiose planning.
They don’t chase perfect solutions. They create feasible, adaptive ones. They don’t resolve conflict through power or persuasion—but by making space for multiple actionable ideas, overlapping interests, and incremental wins.
They think like engineers. They act like diplomats.
To make this actionable, I use a framework built on three metaphors:
Shared Understanding — What does 1 + 1 equal? This isn’t a math problem. It’s a framing challenge. Unless stakeholders share a basic understanding of the problem, they can’t solve it together. Different understanding and interpretations must be negotiated before solutions are pursued for desirable outcomes.
Strategic Intervention — Where do we place the “X”? Charles Steinmetz once charged $10,000 for a chalk mark showing where to fix a broken machine. It’s not about brute force; it’s about knowing where and how to act for maximum leverage.
Exploring Creative Options — How do we find the 18th Camel? In a folk tale, three brothers inherit 17 camels—divided into ½, ⅓, and ⅙ shares. The math doesn’t work until a wise elder temporarily adds an 18th camel. Sometimes, the key to moving forward is reframing the problem and exploring options.
These aren’t just clever parables. They help us unlock the frozen logic of stuck systems.
But metaphors are only the surface. The foundation to apply these metaphors is what I call Principled Pragmatism.
That means: Acting even when certainty is elusive; staying grounded in values, but flexible in tactics; learning by doing—and adapting without dogma. It’s about rigor without rigidity.
These ideas have become even more urgent in today’s fractured world. The post–Cold War ideal of cooperative global leadership is fraying. We are entering a G-Zero world—a time where no single power, alliance, or institution holds consistent sway. From climate change to AI governance, problems outpace our ability to coordinate.
This leadership vacuum is mirrored in collapsing trust in institutions. Take the suspension of the Indus Waters Treaty—once celebrated as the world’s most durable water-sharing agreement. Now, it’s a casualty of shifting geopolitics, unresolved grievances, and eroded legitimacy.
This is the new normal. Treaties may be signed—but they won’t be sufficient. Leaders may be elected—but legitimacy will be contested. Urgency is real—but actionability is constrained.
This is what I call the Urgency–Actionability Trap: The pressure to act is overwhelming. But clarity about what can actually be done is lacking. So we default to symbolic gestures, shallow fixes, or cynical inaction. The result? Paralysis or missteps—both dangerous when the stakes are high.
The Engineer-Diplomat doesn’t panic. They don’t rush to the podium or retreat into spreadsheets. They map constraints. Reframe possibilities. Design under uncertainty.
When treaties fail, they look for tactics. When urgency surges, they invest in credibility. When systems stall, they look for the 18th camel.
I invite you to explore this mindset. Whether you're an engineer designing resilient systems, a diplomat shaping uncertain futures, or a citizen navigating a complex world, Engineering Diplomacy offers tools to act wisely when the answers are unclear—and the stakes couldn’t be higher.
If you've ever tackled a tough challenge by blending the clarity of science, the empathy of a humanist, and the pragmatism of a decision-maker, you’ve already practiced Engineering Diplomacy. I’d love to hear your story. Share how you navigated complexity, overcame uncertainty, or made meaningful progress when perfect solutions weren’t possible. Let’s learn from each other.