The product was a legacy corporate actions processing system, a long-lived piece of BNP's Global Markets infrastructure serving two very different rooms. On one side, the arbitrage trading desk. On the other, prime brokerage clients, banks, insurers, and other institutions, each with their own elections to make.
The system worked. People had frustrations with it, but they were the kind of frustrations a team learns to live with. The automation opportunities visible to everyone were treated the way most teams treat them, as a list of small wins to pick off one by one.
The team had a packed backlog and no headcount approval. A redesign meant absorbing the discovery, framing, and solutioning work on top of the usual delivery rhythm, sprints, retros, smaller requirements, the team itself. The codebase carried a decade of business logic, much of it written by people no longer on the team, much of it undocumented. And engineering, already running at capacity on small fixes, had a tempo nobody wanted to disrupt for a year-long bet.
The obvious move was the one the team was already making, document the manual touchpoints, ship them as small enhancements, work through the backlog. I argued the opposite, in three pitches shaped to three audiences.
To business leadership, a long-term bet, a year of foundational work that would make every future change faster and the whole product cheaper to run. To tech leadership, tech debt, maintainability, a stack moved forward. To the users themselves, the arbitrage desk and the prime brokerage operations, it was their own time back, every manual touchpoint a meeting, a sign-off, a sprint validation on someone else's clock.
When leadership asked to reduce scope mid-project, I brought it back as a cost-to-value question with numbers. They were convinced. The position held.