Johnny, The Footnote is the quiet witness inside every dependable, go-to member of the team — the part of you that watches, remembers, and records what the official narrative forgets to mention.
He writes for the dependable ones who keep things running while privately footnoting the absurdities of modern work.
For years, he lived beneath the main text, like a footnote, — ironing out ironies and documenting patterns no one names but everyone follows. His observations aren’t lessons; they’re mirrors — sharp, dry, and uncomfortably true.
He has no MBA. No leadership awards. Just decades spent watching the theater of performance — the same script, different actors.
Johnny keeps the record of what John endures — the quiet witness inside the dependable. Over time, his notes gathered weight, and he named his archives The Footnote.
From these archives, he deciphers and reveals the invisible laws — the unspoken rules that shape every meeting, every reorganization, every grand strategy that ends where it began.
Because irony is the only honest lie left — and someone has to keep the record.
P.S. John, Johnny, and The Footnote don’t exist — they’re metaphors for the dependable ones who do.
The ones who endure the noise, ignore the nonsense, and keep the record honest.

