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Pavel Samuta
Pavel Samuta

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10 Insights from 4 Years of Direct Client Work as an Engineer

Four years ago, I started my own business with 15 years of experience and billions in completed projects behind me. I thought I would be selling engineering calculations. It turned out — I sell confidence, completion, and meaning.

Engineering reliability is like the root system of a century-old oak. The visible part — the trunk, crown, leaves — is the ready solution you present to the client. But the real work happens underground: in the depths, in the dark, without witnesses. The roots search for water, navigate around stones, create a network that holds the tree steady in any storm. 80% of an engineer’s time should go into this “root work”: research, calculations, hypothesis testing, 15 years of experience, hundreds of textbooks read. Only then will the “trunk” of the solution withstand the test of time.

Most failures are not due to technology. They are due to people who were afraid to tell the truth in time.

Over these four years, I realized another thing rarely discussed in engineering circles. An expert’s silence is almost always explained away as “modesty,” “professional ethics,” or “not wanting to step out of line.” In practice, silence often has a much more mundane nature — the fear of losing resources. I lived by this logic for a long time. To put it bluntly — it’s not a fear of criticism. It’s the fear of being left without orders, without money, without support. The fear that an honest word will close doors faster than it opens new ones.

This mechanism is formed not in theory, but in real experience:

When mistakes are punished publicly,
When your trust is used against you,
When the system rewards convenience over depth.
In such an environment, a person learns to survive, not to express themselves. This internal prohibition materialized in my career as the “convenient contractor” strategy — someone who hides their depth and ingenuity to avoid risking a meager but guaranteed income. The price of this strategy is burnout, frustration, and a financial ceiling.

I long considered this a personal flaw. In reality, it’s an adaptive strategy that simply stopped matching the scale of the tasks. The paradox is that at a certain level of development, silence becomes a system defect just like a technical error. When an expert sees a problem but softens their wording for the sake of peace — they are not preserving the system, they are engineering its future failure.

I noticed a pattern: every time I spoke the truth carefully but precisely — projects became more reliable, clients stronger, and my internal energy was restored. Conversely, every time I “hedged” and held back — frustration, fatigue, and a feeling of working below my potential arose.

Hence my practical conclusion, tested not by philosophy, but by money and deadlines: An engineer who is systematically silent will eventually begin to break down from within — even if everything looks stable on the outside.

Visibility is not about showmanship or self-indulgence. It is an engineering element of reliability. It turns out that genuine security is born not from hiding in the shadows, but from building a powerful, visible foundation of one’s own expertise and principles. Open positioning and strict boundaries are not bravado, but a precise filter. It repels those looking for a cheap service and magnetically attracts the right clients — “your” clients.

Today I realize that the path to professional maturity goes through the integration of the rational and the personal. I had to learn not only to formulate solutions but also to feel their value, to allow myself doubt, error, and vulnerability. This gave rise to inner freedom, and with it came energy and creative interest. I now understand: genuine security is born from sincerity, and sustainable success — from the courage to be oneself. Practice shows: rejecting “grayness” and accepting one’s own substance is not a path to vulnerability, but the only path to genuine safety, market respect, and work with orders that match the true scale of one’s capabilities.

10 Insights, Tested on 46 Successfully Completed Projects
Here are 10 insights tested on 46 successfully completed projects, hundreds of meetings, and real money.

  1. The Client Doesn’t Know What They Want — They Know Where It Hurts. My work doesn’t start with a drawing, but with a diagnosis. If an engineer simply executes a statement of work (SOW), they risk becoming an accomplice to failure. I learned to question the SOW to save the project. My task is not to please, but to solve the problem on which the business is losing money.

  2. “Cheap and Fast” is a Stupidity Tax. Over three years, I’ve seen dozens of projects I had to redo after “freelancers.” Engineering doesn’t tolerate haste. Quality R&D saves millions during operation but requires time for thoughtful, iterative research. I stopped being the “handbrake” in my own life and started valuing my time as an asset.

  3. An Expert’s Silence is a System Defect. If I see an error in the client’s logic and stay silent to “not ruin the relationship” — I betray my profession. True strength lies in independence from momentary approval. Telling the truth, even an inconvenient one, is not rudeness, but the highest form of responsibility and armed kindness.

  4. Trust Weighs More Than Steel. In B2B and government contracts, an agreement is a formality. Real deals are built on the reputation of a person who sees things through. If I enter a cycle — I complete it. That’s my law.

  5. Price and Value are Different Planets. I stopped justifying my cost. When you show how a solution prevents a factory downtime of $100,000 per day, the price question closes by itself.

  6. Frustration is a “Wrong Path” Sensor. Procrastination is the protest of my inner “rebel.” It’s not interested in doing mediocre things; it’s built for great tasks. If I’m squeezed like a lemon by evening — it means the day passed without a true response. I simply “overstrained” myself. Without joy in the process, the engine runs without oil.

  7. A “Just an Engineer” No Longer Exists. The market demands a “translator” from technical to the language of investments, marketing, and production. My task is to explain how metal, code, or a circuit turn into profit and reduce risks.

  8. Client Projections are a Stress Test. Clients often expect miracles from me, without iterations or research. I learned not to take on the role of God, but to remain the Guarantor. I promise not magic, but systemic long-term reliability. A “miracle” often comes from a spirit of wanting to please, while “reliability” comes from a spirit of service.

  9. Making Mistakes is Normal, Hiding Them is Fatal. In complex developments, there’s always risk. Honest acknowledgment and immediate correction build more trust than an attempt to appear perfect. Perfection is a mask hiding fear. Expertise is the readiness to face reality head-on and share risks.

  10. Engineering is an Act of Nobility. I concluded long ago: I won’t work for destruction. My intellect is for creation, ecology, efficiency. This is my filter that weeds out “not my” people. “Ingratitude” for one’s talent (using it for anything) is the root of profanation. Gratitude for the opportunity to solve complex problems is the fuel for sustainability. As a daily exam, I ask: does this solution bring us closer to a legacy or a landfill? I no longer hide in the shadows of factories. I step out and say: “This is who I am. This is how I think.” Because the world respects only one thing — mastery over oneself and one’s destiny.

Key Principle: Triple Verification
Experience is the only source of truth that does not depreciate over time. Any decision must pass three filters:

Physical (Will it work according to the laws of nature?),
Economic (Will it be profitable over the system’s lifecycle?),
Ethical (Will it harm people and the planet in the long term?). Passing a decision through one filter is amateurish. Through two — professional. Through three — mastery. Most engineering catastrophes occur not due to calculation errors, but because someone decided to save time on one of these filters.

The Revolution of Jean-Rodolphe Perronet
In the mid-18th century, the French engineer Jean-Rodolphe Perronet, founder of the School of Bridges and Roads, proposed a radically new design for stone arches — with unprecedentedly thin and elegant supports. His approach was revolutionary: he replaced empirical rules with precise mathematical calculation, considering the bridge as an integral system. Perronet meticulously accounted for water pressure on supports, load distribution, and material properties. Bridges built using his methodology — such as the Pont de la Concorde in Paris — amazed contemporaries with their lightness and strength. Their secret was not magic, but Perronet’s striving to account for all significant factors, including dynamic ones, while others often relied on proven templates with excessive safety margins. His legacy is the victory of systemic analysis over craft tradition.

The Legend of the Master and the Invisible Flaw
There is an old parable about a watchmaker who spent years creating a mechanism for a cathedral. When asked why he polished the gears on the backside, which no one would ever see, he replied: “God sees. And the metal remembers.”

Become a member
To me, these are not empty words. Engineering is the sacrament of coupling the material and the ideal. The invisible “gears” — our motives, honesty, and attention to detail — determine the gravity of a personal brand. If a lie or a desire to “make a quick buck” is embedded within the system, it is doomed to fatigue failure. The symbolism is simple: a drawing is a mirror of the creator’s soul. If it contains superfluous lines or inconsistencies, they will manifest as cracks in the real metal under the pressure of circumstances.

Practical Advice for an Engineer: Where to Work on Yourself
Through my own experience, I have developed core rules that help strengthen a personal “engineering brand” and work effectively on complex projects.

Depth is the internal architecture, independent of role. Role is the interface. Depth is the core. Roles change: engineer → manager → entrepreneur → mentor. But the depth remains the same: structure, responsibility, causality, completion.

I didn’t start writing articles “when in the mood” by accident — I focused on writing what “flows from the head” because it’s crucial to create in response to the right requests. Here are several recommendations derived strictly through practice:

Fortify Your “Knowledge Bunker.” The reliability of any solution is directly proportional to the depth of research. I no longer draw conclusions based on first impressions. Every major step begins with lengthy data collection: GOST standards, experience, similar cases. This has become my “reliability principle”: I never regret time spent on research before a “verdict,” as it saves millions in the long run.
Say “No” Without Regret. My “no” is not a refusal, but a filter. If a project doesn’t spark genuine excitement in the first seconds, it’s not my path. I stopped chasing expensive but soulless “fast-food” projects for money: internal conflict and fear break any system even without external interference. To refuse is to avoid wasting energy on a sandbox. If an engineer allows themselves to be bought for a small fee, they lose control, and with it — the reliability of the result.
Train Your “Language of Money.” Translating technical risks into economic terms is one of the most important skills. Business partners don’t value the beauty of calculations; they look at loss and profit figures. I always link complex engineering solutions to their price tag: I show the cost of a factory’s daily downtime. When directors see the numbers, the cost question resolves itself. By speaking the language of investment, we build a system of priorities and eliminate subjectivity.
Observe the “Clarity Cycle.” There are many questions, few answers. I learned to wait a few days before making key decisions — be it approving a partnership or choosing a supplier. An impulsive “yes” usually leads to rework or failure. 24–48 hours of reflection give the brain time to let the panic subside and analyze the risks: what is the essence of the matter, and what is a temporary illusion. I don’t let projects materialize in illusory success at the first stage — such success always ends in sudden collapse. Therefore, every serious “yes” is given after a verification cycle.
Delegate Routine and Scale. I was once the “fastest drafter”; now my task is that of an architect and controller. To reach the strategist level, I gave up minor routine work. Now a young team drafts for me, and I oversee the project’s architecture. This frees up time for the “magnetic field” of a personal brand — I started writing about my experience and publishing case studies. If earlier I hunted for clients myself, now clients come to me: my large-scale experience (~$1.7B in savings) has become its own advertisement. Thus, I became a strategic partner for clients, not just a contractor.
Ruthlessly Complete Any Project. Hanging projects steal energy and time. If “wavering” is visible at any stage, I abandon dubious parts or exit the project entirely — this approach saves me hundreds of hours of unresolved issues. A project must be finalized: either done completely or closed. This is a manifestation of the designer’s responsibility: an abandoned, unsecured link is worthless. I build my reputation on bringing all started endeavors to completion, like tightened bolts — at least until dismantling.
Acknowledge Your Role as an Expert. I am no longer “one of the guys” for anyone. My task is not to maintain everyone’s balance, but to enter a crisis like a surgeon and solve it systematically. People often expect miracles from an engineer without analysis, but I position myself as a guarantor of the result, not a magician. “I promise not magic, but systemic long-term reliability” — that’s my unspoken rule. Being an expert means being ready to walk away if a project is falling apart: this attracts clients not to my service, but to my confidence in its effectiveness.
Invest in R&D and Self-Education. I constantly learn new things: be it new GOSTs, advanced methodologies, or business models. My value grows at the intersection of engineering and entrepreneurship. I read economic research because an engineer benefits from knowing where a particular technical innovation will lead on a market scale. Learning is my safety cushion: the stronger the “knowledge bunker,” the lower the chance of making a fatal mistake.
Listen to Excitement, Not Fear. Fear is just a risk signal, not a verdict. When I feel a spark of genuine interest in a problem, the inner “body language” sings: muscles tense, the brain engages. Then any sad thought at the end of the day turns into a technical risk that can be calculated. I trust this excitement: it leads to the generation of ideas and solutions. Conversely, when the signal from the “rejection sensor” goes off the scale, I take it as a sure sign that I’m on the wrong road. Such lessons come from where others say “take it easy” or “don’t stress so much” — I’ve been through my own trials, and my conclusion is simple: only the engineer’s emotional engagement is the engine of progress, while fears are merely noise that needs timely filtering.
Excitement = Gratitude for the gift. Frustration = A signal of misusing the gift.

Each of these pieces of advice is based on practical experience: through analysis, I’ve extracted a pattern that I now hold as a quality standard. Over the years, I’ve become convinced that the quality of engineering solutions is determined not by “paper” methods, but by lived experience. And this approach is like a secret code: when you understand it, the project starts working on its own, while others only see the result — a ready, resilient machine.

My final conclusion is this: in engineering, trust weighs more than steel. When you hold in your hands not a beautiful model, but a proven mechanism, you are not just a client — you are a strategic partner in a reliable history. This is how systems are created that will work for generations.

The modern durability crisis is not a technical problem. It’s an economic-engineering paradox. From a pure engineering standpoint, we can create systems that last 100+ years. From a business standpoint, it’s often more profitable to create a system guaranteed to fail in 5–7 years so the client buys a new one. This conflict between engineering ethics and business logic is the main reason why we are surrounded by things that break right after the warranty.

Ideal Client Profile (ICP):

Large industrial enterprises in an import substitution crisis.
State corporations and B2G structures where reliability, completion, and compliance with standards are crucial.
Companies willing to pay a premium for a guaranteed solution, not for “hours worked.”
The choice is between participating in creating a disposable world and building long-lived systems. I choose the latter. Because trust built on completion, meaning, and responsibility for the future is the only material that doesn’t rust over time but only grows stronger.

Not calculation for strength, but calculation for honesty. Not fear of the warranty, but respect for time. Not the ability to please, but the willingness to say “no.” Not the speed of closing deals, but the completion of cycles.

I choose to be useful, not convenient. Defined, not invisible. I choose to complete not only projects but also myself.

“Substance” — that is the only real currency in a world full of “lightweight” solutions. The substance of experience forged in the “knowledge bunker.” The substance of a word backed by closed projects. The substance of a principle that outweighs momentary gain.

Technical standards become obsolete. Economic models change. But the gravity of truth, systems thinking, and the ethics of service remain the only constants. Responsibility is the universal language understood by all generations. Responsibility is always “I.” But influence is always the “Field.” Great leaders (from Napoleon to Shukhov) didn’t “blend” with the crowd. They created a field in which even mediocrities began to work at twice their mental capacity.

Friends, colleagues, like-minded people! Happy New Year! On these holidays, it’s customary to talk about miracles, but as an engineer, I know: the greatest miracle is the ability of the human “I” to turn chaos into structure and a dream into a blueprint and a finished product.

In 2026, I wish you three things that can’t be bought for “candy wrappers,” but which determine the success of any system:

A Safety Margin. May your inner “strength of materials” be higher than any external loads. I wish you will of steel and clarity of mind when the information noise is off the charts.

An Energy Surplus. May your personal efficiency strive for the maximum. I wish you to be not consumers, but sources — those very “field generators” around which baseness falls silent and nobility blossoms.

Fidelity to the Blueprint. May your “I” sound loud in the new year. Don’t be afraid of imperfect solutions — be afraid of the absence of solutions. Remember, the world is first created in your head, and only then — in metal and concrete.

May the holiday light give you that inner peace from which true beauty and precision of calculations are born.

Build boldly. Answer proudly. Be grand in your “I”.

Happy Holidays! Sincerely, Pavel Samuta.

My experience has shown that transformation is impossible without allowing oneself to be vulnerable. Acknowledging one’s humanity, stepping out of the shadows, and openly publishing ideas became my point of professional takeoff. To attract high-level projects, an engineer must transition to open positioning and strict protection of personal boundaries. I realized: to become a leader, you must be able to withstand criticism and not be afraid to be seen. My “I” is no longer a background for others’ expectations. My “I” is the foundation of the systems I build together with you.

The engineering of the future is the engineering of meaning. Where steel is merely the shell. And the real project is the person who takes responsibility for what will work when they are no longer here.

This is how legacy is created. Not for a report. For eternity.
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Pavel Samuta Systems Reliability Architect. Troubleshooter. Problem Solver. Technical Advisor.

Top comments (1)

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angel t. duran

Number 7 is my motto, no longer engineers, critical thinking, empathy and solution driven people are scarce