Better Late Than Never

If you're reading this as a parent, I want to begin with a confession.

I think I'm already late.
Not late in starting a business.
Not late in creating a course.

Late in starting a conversation that should have begun years ago.

For over two and a half decades, I've worked with—and learned from—brands, retailers, designers, architects, manufacturers and entrepreneurs. I've watched industries evolve, careers disappear, new professions emerge, and technology quietly rewrite the rules faster than most of us could fully understand.

Somewhere along the way, I started noticing a pattern.

It first appeared while interacting with young design students.
Later, I heard the same uncertainty from parents whose children were still in school.

Different people.
Different stages of life.
The same questions.

With every passing year, one thought became harder to ignore.

Why are we still preparing our children for a world that may no longer exist by the time they enter it?

For years, this was simply a question I carried with me.

Today, it has become deeply personal.
In another year, my own son will step into Class 9—the stage where conversations about streams, careers and the future begin to gather pace.
Like every parent, I want him to find work that gives him purpose, dignity and the freedom to build a meaningful life.
And that made me realise something.
I'm no longer asking this question as someone who has spent twenty-five years observing industries.
I'm asking it as a father.

Perhaps that's the real reason Creative Futures exists.

Not because I have all the answers.
But because I, too, am looking for better questions.

I don't think parents are failing.
I think parenting has become harder than ever before.
No generation before us has had to prepare children for a future changing this quickly.

The internet has given us unlimited information. Information isn't the problem anymore. Making sense of it is.

Every parent I meet wants the same thing—a secure, meaningful and fulfilling future for their child.

But certainty has disappeared.

Careers are changing.
New opportunities are emerging.
Artificial Intelligence is rewriting the rules.

Even schools, despite their best efforts, cannot predict what lies ahead.

That's why I'm writing these conversations.
Not to tell you what your child should become.
Not to convince you that every child should choose a creative career.
But to help us ask better questions, notice possibilities we may have overlooked, and navigate the future with greater clarity and confidence.

If these conversations help even one parent feel a little less anxious, or one student discover possibilities where they once saw only pressure, then perhaps I'm not as late as I thought.

Better late than never.

Welcome to Creative Futures.

Comments