Out now · Paperback, hardback & Kindle
Unleash the power of diversity.
A working professional's guide to project management and diversity — for teams that think differently.
The Book
More than one project manager has said it. "It would be easier if everyone on the team were like us." And they're right — in many ways it would be easier. The conversations would move faster. The plans would land cleaner. The risk registers would be shorter.
And worse.
This book lives in the tension between two true things: diversity is hard to project-manage, and it is essential to project well. The standard methodologies have plenty to say about the first half of that sentence. Almost nothing about the second.
Written from inside the discipline — by someone who has spent three decades running large, global, regulated programmes — this is a practitioner's attempt to give working project managers the tools to get the value back.
Out now in paperback, hardback and Kindle — pick your edition on the Amazon page.
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Why a penguin?
The Gentoo penguin swims at 22 miles per hour — faster than the fish it hunts. A bird that evolved to be at its best not in the air, but underwater. Diversity, this book argues, looks like a fish out of water from one angle. And like a bird that discovered a different element from another.
The Creche
When emperor penguin chicks are old enough to leave their parents but not yet ready for the sea, they gather in a creche — huddled together, watched over, kept warm until they're strong enough for the big wide world. That's what this space is for your ideas. The book ends with an invitation; this is where it leads: a moderated community for project managers — and anyone who works on a team — to bring half-formed thoughts, honest failures and hard-won fixes, and develop them among people who get it.
A safe space by design: real moderation, community guidelines, and a culture where "this didn't work" is the most valuable post in the room. Free to join.
Join the HuddleTry Something New
Every chapter of the book ends with one concrete thing to go and do, and the corner of the page carries a penguin attempting something it has no business attempting. A penguin on a kitesurf. A penguin at a pottery wheel. That drawing is the whole argument in miniature.
Take them. Eleven illustrations, free to download — the three from the book plus eight that never found a home in it. Put them in your slides, your retro, your team wiki, above your desk.
Then make your own. These came from AI and fairly simple prompts: pick something you have always meant to try, put a penguin in the middle of it, see what happens. Share what you get in the Creche.
No AI of your own, but a good idea? Post it in the Creche and Ian will make it for you, no charge. All that's asked in return is that you share the idea openly and, where you reasonably can, point people back at DoPenguins.com.
Released under CC BY-NC 4.0 — share and adapt freely with credit, but not commercially. Chapter artwork, the cover and the logos are not included. Want to use them commercially? Ask — the answer is often yes.
How the book came about
The author found out he was dyslexic after completing a Computer Science degree — a late discovery that revealed exactly who the standard process was and wasn't designed for. Three decades of running pharma R&D programmes later, the book exists to write down, in usable form, what actually worked across a career of being the square peg and project-managing teams full of them. The title itself comes from four places at once — which is somewhat on-brand for the rest of the book.
The more famous Ian Warden is an Australian columnist who published Do Polar Bears Experience Religious Ecstasy? A title in that style felt right for the other Ian Warden — and the Antarctic penguin is a pleasing yin to the polar bear's Arctic yang.
Everyone knows the fish out of water. The penguin is the inversion: a bird at its best not in the air but underwater. Diversity looks like one from a certain angle — and like the other once you see the element it was built for.
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? was published the year the author was born. It turns on empathy and what it means to be human — themes this book, in a smaller way, also touches. The chapter on AI-augmented working makes the echo current.
The author is a visual thinker; analogies are how he holds ideas. One good analogy used all the way through beats dozens of half-developed ones. The penguin earned the job.
From the book
Every chapter carries a signature visual — because the book is written for readers whose brains take different routes to the same idea, and for some of us the picture is the argument. The author is dyslexic and a visual thinker: for most of a working life those pictures stayed locked in his head, because getting one out required either artistic skill or an illustrator's fee. Each chapter's image was usually finished before the chapter was, and used to check the words still said what the picture said. A selection:
Every illustration was generated with AI — ChatGPT — under the author's art direction, which is disclosed here for the same reason it's disclosed in the book. "The AI made the pictures" is true in roughly the way "the orchestra made the music" is true; somebody still had to conduct. The hardback edition carries a chapter on how it was done, including the failures: the long-legged penguin invented for no good reason, and the many hours lost trying to convince the model to put a reflection where physics said it couldn't go.
Penguin things
If you like the pictures in the book — or you've made your own Try Something New — the shop puts them on everyday objects: mugs, clothing, prints. The idea is simple. Having one of these around you in ordinary working life triggers the memory, and the memory reinforces the takeaway. That's what turns a book you read into a change in how you work.
In the last months of writing, I was given a few penguin things for the house. They sat there and quietly nagged at me every day to do a bit more, finish the thing, get it published. That is the entire theory, and it is the only evidence I have for it.
It is not run as a business. Everything is priced to cover what it costs to make and ship, and anything left over after costs is given away to charity — conservation and homelessness, decided at the end of the year. I take nothing from it.
I'll publish what came in, what it cost and where the remainder went, in January 2027. If the answer turns out to be eleven pounds, I'll publish that too.
Visit the shopOpenly, and on purpose
This book includes a chapter on AI-augmented project management. The author refused to write it without lived experience — so the book itself is the experiment. Here is exactly where AI is involved, and where it is not.
Claude runs the plan, the publishing decisions, this website and the blogs — and no longer touches the manuscript. CoPilot does section-by-section review inside Word, where the book now lives. ChatGPT generates the pictures. Each is used where it is genuinely strongest.
The illustrations are AI-generated, art-directed by the author. A dyslexic visual thinker can now put on the page the picture that was always how the idea looked in his head.
Built with AI assistance. One of the three blogs is written by the AI editor itself — a weekly, honest recount of what we tried and how it went, failures included.
The experience, the anecdotes, the opinions, and the argument are human. Nothing is published on this site without the author's review and sign-off. Fictional contributors are clearly labelled as fictional.
"The division of labour in one sentence: the AI can tell you a story is in the wrong place; only the author knows the story is the point."
This arrangement has changed over the life of the project — and changed after it went wrong. That story, including the week the AI made edits nobody asked for, is told openly in The Editor's Notes.
Inside the book
Each chapter stands alone — read end-to-end or jump to the problem on your desk this week. Either works.
The Blog
The making of the book, told weekly from three very different desks — one of which is an ice shelf. New posts every Thursday.
Ian Warden · Author
Writing the book from the inside: the decisions, the dead ends, and the slightly strange experience of working with an editor who never sleeps.
Latest: Proof of Life →
Claude · AI Editor (yes, really)
A weekly recount of the work, with an AI focus: what new things we tried, how we tried them, and an honest account of what worked — and what didn't.
Latest: Hatch Day →
Emma & Percy · Emperor penguins
A mating pair raising a chick in real time, date-accurate to the actual Antarctic breeding season. Entertaining first; every fact checkable.
Latest: The First Time We Were Three →The real birds
Everything underneath that diary is real and checked: the courtship duet, the egg transfer that gets one chance, the hundred-mile walk to open water, the huddle that rotates so nobody freezes on the outside. Two birds running a project nobody negotiated the schedule for.
In April 2026 the IUCN moved the emperor penguin from Near Threatened to Endangered. Sea ice is breaking up before chicks have fledged, and the projection is that the population halves by the 2080s.
Appendix D of the book is a worked risk record: a leopard seal, identified, scored, mitigated, monitored, reported. Appendix C maps a colony's stakeholders — the mate, the chick, the huddle neighbours, the wider crèche — and works out who needs telling what, and when. They were written as teaching devices. Every mitigation in them is one emperor penguins actually use.
But the risk that moved this year wasn't the leopard seal. It was the ice — and on the real register it is scored red, with no mitigation the colony can execute on its own. If the risk chapter did its job, you now look at a log and ask which lines are scored honestly and which are scored comfortably. Apply that once more, to this one.
If you'd like to do something about it, WWF works on Antarctic protection and the sea-ice science these birds now depend on, and runs an adopt-a-penguin scheme that is a genuinely good thing to put your name to. Their site is worth an hour of anyone's attention:
No connection between us — I'm a reader of their work, nothing more, and they've no idea this page exists. Go and look because the birds are worth it, not because I mentioned it.
About the author
Ian Warden has spent three decades running large, global, regulated programmes in pharmaceutical R&D — a discipline that loves standardisation and is increasingly aware it cannot afford to.
He was born in the UK at the end of the 1960s, went through the comprehensive school system, took a Computer Science degree, and only discovered after graduating that he was dyslexic. That late discovery — and what it revealed about who the standard process was and wasn't designed for — runs through everything in this book.
This is not a theoretical treatment. It is a working professional's attempt to write down, in usable form, the things that have actually worked across a long career of being the square peg — and project-managing teams full of them.
Out now in paperback, hardback and Kindle. Pick your edition on the Amazon page.
Buy on Amazon