The Software Superpowers

Back to King’s

It felt oddly familiar walking into the Macadam Building at King’s College London again. The same view over the Thames. The same top-floor buzz. Thirty years ago, that space turned into a nightclub after dark; now it’s a lecture theatre. Today it still hums, only with different possibilities.

I told the students this wasn’t a playbook or a pitch. It was a chance to look honestly at how technology markets organise themselves — how a few players end up shaping the systems we all depend on, and how smaller companies can still find space to create meaningful value inside them. Because once you see the pattern clearly, you can decide how to move within it.

Where the Power Lies

Nearly twenty years ago, analyst Joseph Bentzel coined the phrase “the software superpowers.” Even then, Microsoft’s R&D budget was larger than most of Silicon Valley combined.

That imbalance hasn’t shrunk — it’s exploded. In 2024, Microsoft spent over $30 billion on research and development, Amazon more than $80 billion, and Alphabet roughly $50 billion. Together, they now invest more in innovation each year than most countries spend on defence. These are the firms that build and control the platforms the rest of us rely on.

The reason is simple physics. Software scales, and data compounds. Once a company reaches a certain level of integration and capital, its flywheel accelerates: billions more to improve what already works, while the rest of the world rents the outcome.

It’s not good or bad — it’s gravity. And gravity doesn’t care what you think about it. The real question is how you move within that landscape.

Learning to Ride the Gravity

When I co-founded CloudSense, I learned that lesson up close.

Telecoms was transforming — shifting from single-product sales (mobile, broadband, TV) into bundles and subscriptions. The old systems weren’t built for that world.

We built software that sat in the middle, helping companies configure, price, and quote those complex offers. The industry called it CPQ, but what it really did was human: it helped customers understand what they were buying, and helped businesses keep their promises.

The most important decision we made wasn’t technical. It was strategic. We built on Salesforce’s platform. They had trust, reach, and scale — lift we could never have created alone.

That’s ecosystem thinking before we had a name for it. Instead of fighting for attention, we attached ourselves to a platform with its own gravity. It gave us credibility, customers, and growth.

But gravity cuts both ways.

When Salesforce backed a new competitor — one aligned more closely with their roadmap — we were caught off balance. Our success had tied us so tightly to their orbit that when they moved, we felt the pull.

That was on me. We were so focused on innovating inside our own bubble that we missed the environmental signals that made that innovation valuable in the first place.

Getting Back in the Game

So what do you do when the tide turns?

In our case, we specialised. We doubled down on the markets where we already had credibility — telecoms, media, utilities. We stopped trying to build everything ourselves and started partnering more deeply.

And we listened. Hard. We rebuilt trust with customers one conversation at a time.

We didn’t bounce back by reinventing the story; we did it by grounding it. That was the real lesson I wanted the students to take: ecosystems favour those who pay attention. The market isn’t moral. It’s a set of moving relationships, and your job is to read them early.

Finding the Gaps That Matter

Once you accept the landscape, the practical skill is spotting where the platform isn’t looking yet.

Every ecosystem has edges — places that aren’t strategic for the platform owner but still matter to the users it serves. That’s where small companies can build real depth.

I told the students: don’t chase the shiny bit of the map. Look for the pieces that are missing. If you can make the platform better for its users, you’ll have relevance and protection — at least for a while.

But timing is everything. The moment your niche becomes too attractive, the platform’s gaze will shift. That’s the time to evolve, diversify, or move on.

This kind of awareness — knowing when to attach, when to deepen, and when to detach — is the real craft of ecosystem strategy. It’s not just about partnerships. It’s about reading energy and flow.

Teaching, Not Preaching

The mood in the lecture was relaxed. We laughed about the 1990s sound system that would never pass a QA test today. But underneath the jokes was a serious question: how do you recognise change while you’re still inside it?

I said, most people don’t. They see it only when it’s already happened. The work is to develop a kind of peripheral vision — to keep noticing the patterns just outside your main focus.

That’s how you stay relevant.

And that’s why understanding matters more than knowledge. Knowledge is what you can recall. Understanding is what you can use. Wisdom is what you can share without needing to be right.

That’s what experience gives you — perspective. And that’s why I was there: to help the next generation of builders see a little further ahead than we did.

The Next Wave of Superpowers

We ended where every technology conversation ends now — with AI.

The same companies that dominated the software era are building the foundations of intelligence: the models, the data, the compute. Their R&D budgets have gone from tens of billions to hundreds. The scale is hard to imagine.

And the pattern is familiar. A few players create the infrastructure; everyone else builds on top. It’s the same gravity, amplified.

So I left the students with a question: in this new landscape, what roles will you play?

Because AI will reshape the map. Some will build the core models. Most will operate in the layers above — building value through relevance, creativity, and connection. The game isn’t over; it’s just evolving.

Attach wisely. Build where you can add depth. Stay aware of the gravity. And don’t lose sight of the people you’re building for.

Because in the end, that’s what makes this work meaningful. Helping others — customers, teams, students — is the one form of leverage that scales endlessly and never depletes.

That, to me, is the real superpower worth cultivating.

Epilogue: A Personal Reflection

Walking out of King’s that day, I stopped for a moment at the top of the steps. The Thames moved fast below, just as it had thirty years ago. Different current, same flow.

When I was a student, I thought success meant control — mastering the system, getting every answer right. I’ve since learned that success in technology, and in life, comes more from awareness and adaptation than control.

Ecosystems reward those who stay curious and stay in motion. They’re not about conquering; they’re about co-creating.

So maybe that’s the quiet truth that sits beneath all the talk of platforms and power: in a world run by software superpowers, the most enduring advantage still comes from being human enough to notice what’s changing, and wise enough to play within it.

What about you?
Where do you see the next open edges — the places the platforms aren’t watching yet?