About

I’m Pablo Kenney. I work on AI, innovation, and operational excellence, and I write here about the parts of leadership that don’t fit neatly into a framework— decision-making under uncertainty, the psychology of teams, usage of m dashes and whatever I’m reading. Lived in SF for many years, now in PA, also claim roots in Oklahoma, Indiana, Minnesota, DC and Lima, Peru.

Have previous worked in politics, marketing strategy, and building product - that will probably seep in here too.

Me

This is a personal site. Picture is old. Opinions are my own.

You can reach me at first name . last name at gmail.


Kathapsia

One night at trivia, I learned a new word: taurokathapsia - bull jumping. The Minoans left us a fresco. A bull mid-charge, and a figure going over it — hands to the horns, body arcing across the animal’s back. Evidence of a greek ritual that was about taking risk, being agile and leveraging the momentum of a greater force to do some pretty cool things yourself. I loved the word, I loved the idea - bull jumping indeed.

The Fresco In Question

Strip the bull away and you’re left with something meaty. Kathapsia — from kathaptomai, to lay hold of, to fasten upon, to take a thing in your hands. The same root that gives us “haptic”: not sight, not command from a distance, but contact.

Notice what the word does not mean. It isn’t the leap. We remember the vault — the drama, the somersault, the clearing of the danger. But the Greek names the quieter moment just before: the hands closing on the horns. You don’t leap a bull by overpowering it. You take hold at the right instant and let its own force throw you. Your job is timing, contact, and nerve.

That’s the gist of this blog. Most of what I think about — leadership, mental frameworks, how people actually operate — comes back to the same instinct. You rarely get to control the charging thing. You get to lay hold of it well. Context, not control. Contact, not command.

A note for the curious: the ancient word was real — it named bull-festivals in Thessaly and across Asia Minor — though the Minoan association is a modern one, pinned on by the archaeologist who dug up Knossos. Kathapsia on its own is my extraction, not a word you’ll find in an old text. Which feels right for a blog. You take the root, take hold, and make up some things along the way.