Growing Beyond the Craft - Without Leaving It Behind 

As I grew more experienced, I began to notice a tension - one I still think many engineers feel but rarely talk about. On one hand, seniority brought pride, depth, and a broader perspective. On the other hand, there was a quiet expectation that growing meant moving away from the hands-on work that first sparked my curiosity. 

And this is where I've often felt conflicted. 

I value growth deeply. I enjoy becoming more strategic, seeing the bigger picture, guiding teams, and shaping direction. But I don't want that growth to come at the cost of losing the craft. I enjoy being in the code, experimenting with pipelines, learning new tools, and solving real problems with my hands on the keyboard. 

I've realized that my strength, and what I enjoy, isn't choosing a single lane. It's being the Swiss army knife in a team: someone who can write code, understand architecture, build automation, bridge business and tech, and help drive innovation. That versatility isn't a lack of specialization - it is the specialization. 

Still, navigating that path isn't always simple. As a consultant, you can be staffed on shorter assignments because of your expertise, which is flattering, but sometimes limits deeper exploration and long term learning. And finding spaces where you can experiment, fail, iterate, and grow isn't always guaranteed. Sometimes growth requires the right timing, the right environment, and the right people. 

As I moved into roles further from the day-to-day work of delivery and closer to strategy and alignment, the questions got louder. Not “am I senior enough” but: 

Am I still close enough to learn?
Am I growing upward - or away?
Which direction actually makes me better?

For a long time, I wondered if I should become a manager or a technical test lead. I have learned that for me, the answer is different: I want to keep being that cross functional problem solver. The person who builds, experiments, collaborates, and helps others grow - whether through internal competence, innovation work, or helping teams adopt new ways of working and technology, including AI. 

In other words, I don't want to step away from the craft to grow - I want to grow through the craft. 

Conclusion - A Path Built Through Craft 

If there's one thing my journey has taught me, it's that growth in tech doesn't have to look the same for everyone. Some move toward management. Some toward deep specialization. Some - like me - grow by staying close to the craft, by staying curious, and by continuing to build. 

Quality engineering has always been about more than verifying software. It is about building trust and confidence in how software is created, delivered, and evolved. And that work needs people who bridge worlds - business and technology, development and operations, vision and execution. 

As the industry continues to change, especially with AI reshaping how we build and learn, I believe the need for engineers who think broadly, who question purpose, who experiment and adapt, and who stay grounded in the craft will only grow. 

To me, seniority isn't measured by stepping further away from the keyboard - it's the ability to zoom in and zoom out. To understand a system deeply, and also understand the people and purpose behind it.  

And it’s not measured in years either. Time builds experience, yes - but true seniority comes from intention, reflection, and a willingness to keep learning. It’s the ability to elevate both the work and the people around you. To lead through clarity, curiosity, and collaboration, not just through title. 

I don't know exactly what my role will look like in five or ten years. But I know this: whatever direction I take, I want it to stay connected to the work that sparked my passion: building, exploring, learning, and helping others do the same. 

Because for me, growth isn't moving beyond the craft. It is becoming better through it. 

And even now, as technology shifts and roles evolve - same quiet questions guide me: 

How do I stay curious? 
How do I keep building?
How do I evolve without drifting too far from what I love?

I don't think those questions represent uncertainty. I think they represent intention.