The missing layer
between insight
and lasting change.

My work began where most frameworks do — inside institutions. At Ernst & Young I learned to think in structures. How organisations diagnose problems. How change gets designed from the top down. It was rigorous, valuable, and completely silent on one question: why do people actually do what they do?

That question pulled me toward something less rational.

I moved into luxury brand strategy, and eventually to China — arriving just as its luxury market was becoming one of the most fascinating behavioural laboratories in the world. I spent three years inside that machinery, understanding at a neurological level how desire gets manufactured. How a glass, a room, a label stops being an object and becomes an identity. How escapism is engineered to feel like aspiration.

I was good at it. And I was living the loop I was building for others.

So I stopped.

I crossed the Atlantic by sailboat. Moved through Latin America. Spent time in an ashram in India. Not as a break — as a reckoning. The questions I had been exploring professionally became impossible to ignore personally. It was no longer curiosity about behaviour. It was a search for what actually helps people change.

That search led me into behavioural science and neuromarketing — studying the mechanisms beneath persuasion, identity, and the loops that keep people stuck. Since 2016 I have worked independently in behavioural strategy, across wellness, lifestyle, and digital products.

But across every industry, the same paradox kept appearing: people understand themselves better than ever. Yet lasting change remains rare. Insight alone rarely transforms a life. What actually does is relationship — being seen, challenged, and held by people who understand the territory because they are crossing it too.

reTribe grew from that realisation. The same neurological tools that make escapism irresistible — aspiration, identity, belonging — pointed in the opposite direction. Not toward the escape. Toward the return.