About

The person behind the shelves.

Jeremy has had trouble staying in his lane for most of his adult life, which would probably be more concerning if he could identify exactly which lane was supposed to be his. 

He is a writer, entrepreneur, United States Marine, public servant, educator, and consultant, though stacking those titles together makes his career sound considerably more organized than it has actually been. He earned an MBA and a Master of Public Administration, and his professional life has moved through the military, government, business, economic development, education, and entrepreneurship. Somewhere along the way, answering the otherwise simple question, “So, what do you do?” became unnecessarily complicated.

There is, however, a common thread through most of it: curiosity.

Jeremy has always been interested in the places where subjects begin running into one another. Technology eventually becomes a conversation about people. Business runs into government. Infrastructure becomes economics, which becomes public policy, which eventually becomes a question about communities. Science has an annoying habit of wandering into philosophy. History has an equally annoying habit of showing up in almost everything. Follow any of those paths long enough and the boundaries between disciplines begin looking a little less permanent than they did when you started.

That tendency has produced a fairly eclectic collection of work.

Jeremy founded Rolling Rome, a shoreline-services company in Wisconsin, and Sand Slicer, which developed a patent-pending tool for recreational shoreline maintenance. His other projects have wandered through economic development, artificial intelligence, augmented reality, education, civic infrastructure, consumer products, public policy, data, and a growing collection of ideas that are probably better explored elsewhere on this site than attempted in a single biography.

His writing follows much the same pattern.

The Digital Adulthood series explores technology, communication, human behavior, relationships, and what it has meant to grow alongside a digital world that was itself growing up at roughly the same time. His articles wander farther still, often beginning with something ordinary before following the connections wherever they happen to lead. A sewer can become a discussion about civic infrastructure. A constellation can become a conversation about memory and education. A piece of technology can lead backward through history before somehow arriving back in the present.

This is apparently how his brain works.

His time as a Marine probably reinforced some of it. Military service brought years of experience in leadership, logistics, planning, instruction, and operating inside systems where decisions eventually have consequences for actual people. Work in government and economic development added another perspective. Businesses, governments, institutions, and communities can look at precisely the same problem and see very different things, and occasionally all of them are right.

Two things can be true.

Sometimes considerably more than two.

That idea sits underneath much of Jeremy's work. He is interested in bridges between sectors, generations, disciplines, technologies, and people who may approach the world from very different directions. He is equally interested in assumptions that have been sitting around long enough that nobody remembers who put them there.

The objective isn't necessarily to provide an answer.

Sometimes finding a better question is enough.

That is also a reasonably good explanation for this website.

JeremyScot.com is less a portfolio in the traditional sense than a living library of work, experiments, observations, and thoughtful wandering. Some things on these shelves are finished. Others are still being explored. Some ideas may become businesses, books, public projects, technologies, collaborations, or something that doesn't have a particularly convenient category yet.

Others may simply turn out to be wrong.

That's allowed here too.

Jeremy lives in Wisconsin, where he continues to write, build, study, experiment, and ask questions about subjects he occasionally has no business asking questions about. Every so often, one of those questions turns into something useful.

Every so often, it turns into another question.

He considers both reasonably good outcomes.

Conversation

No comments — and this piece isn't open for new ones.

Comments are closed on this piece.