Trowel Spin – January 2026

“And after too much of nothing, even nostalgia isn’t a thing anymore, let alone a strategy.”

I listened to Mark Carney’s speech at the World Economic Forum in Davos. Regardless of your political preferences, one would have to admit that he delivered a good speech. Even a courageous one. The only technical thing he did wrong when it comes to speeches, was to use complicated word structures that he needed to explain in simpler terms afterword.

But one small phrase caught my attention that did not need extra explaining.

He said, “Nostalgia is not a strategy.”

Nostalgia is not a strategy. Intellectually of course, I know this. And when other people rant about the deplorable state of current times, and reminisce about the wonders of the past, I wonder where their head is. But when I do it, it is a lot easier to justify.

One of those times is when I think about winter. My love for winter is very contracted. It seems in in south central Ontario our relationship with winter has become something very strange. Its like being in a relationship where you have agreed to love each other, but you don’t really. Like a mutual toleration. You never can really tell who is authentic or fake, and how they will show up when. And you always say the right thing at the wrong time.

We live far enough north that we get real winter, but far enough south that we pretend we don’t. So instead of embracing it, we give it a cold shoulder. And get one in return. Or I do.

In response, I constantly find myself reminiscing about how things used to be. The days when construction used to shut down for the winter. When we were a smaller company and packed things in for 2 months of nothing. Back when people cut wood, built fires, read books, and went ice-fishing all winter.

But as it turns out, nostalgia isn’t a strategy. Times are different, circumstances change. Responsibilities evolve. Our company cannot close for the winter, and I can’t hole up and hibernate in some den until spring comes or fly to some alternate reality in the Caribbeans for 3 months.

I need to strategize, even if its in the simplest form. Yes, I need to think about the big things, such as the combination of vastly reduced cashflow, capital needs and equipment upgrades. It is a great time of year to review workflows, make sure safety tickets are up to date, or do a long-delayed rework of stock shelves and storage rooms. It’s a good time to slow down and let life catch up a little.  

Then there are little things, such as putting more vitamin D into my morning routine, actually dressing warm enough to go outside and having a pair of gloves in my truck. And while I may not need to agree to love winter, I do need to accept its deviance from what I think it should be.  

The unpredictability of winter is a sort of archetype of the reality of business. We can strategize to the ninth for our business and yet not the best of us can tell what is around the next bend. We don’t know if an airplane will fly into a tower or a pandemic will upend everything. Despite of that, a strategy that fails is better than none. Because doing nothing, means becoming nothing. And after too much of nothing, even nostalgia isn’t a thing anymore, let alone a strategy.  

But if you like winter, I am truly happy for you. Drop in an see us at our store. Otherwise, I will write to you next month.  

Take good care,