The Council Protocol

Write what you need.
Say next.

A council reviews your work one question at a time.

Grounded in your data — never in guesswork

The whole thing, in three moves
1

Say what you need

One paragraph in plain language. What you're reviewing, and what you actually need to know — "tell me if this billing report survives an audit." That's the Commission. No form, no syntax.

2

Answer the questions it hands you

A small council forms. Each member asks one sharp question about your data. Either it queries directly, or it hands you a question to run and paste back. You bring back whatever comes — even a blank.

3

Say "next" until it's done

After each finding it stops and waits. You confirm, or correct it with what you know. When the last voice has spoken, you get a plain verdict: what holds, what doesn't, and what to do about it.

Preface

Most analytical work is reviewed by one person reading top to bottom, trusting their own blind spots.

This protocol replaces that with a council. A few sharp perspectives, each asking one real question of your data — one at a time, with you at the head of the table.

It never answers from memory. It never runs ahead of you. Every finding traces back to a question and an answer you can see.

Everything below is how that works — and how little you have to do to run it.

View the full protocol

Run the loop

The skill song

0:00
What it looks like

A minute inside a session

No commands. You talk; it stages the review.

Council session

You

Review our Q3 billing report before it goes to the CFO. I need to know if the 91% billed figure is real. What I'm dreading: that some orders are counted as billed when they're just past due.

The Council

Casting Monkey to hunt anomalies and Lion to test what survives an audit. I expect Monkey to surface the most here. Starting with Monkey.

Monkey asks: "Which orders have a billing date in the past but no billing document posted?"

— running the question against your data —

Scene 1 · Monkey

47 orders, €2.3M, past due with no invoice. The 91% figure excludes at least €1.2M of genuinely unbilled work. Scene complete.

Confirm to continue to Lion — or correct this first.

You

next

That's the rhythm. A question, an answer, a pause. Repeat until the verdict.

❙❙

It never runs ahead of you. After every finding it stops and waits — because you hold the ground truth it doesn't. Correct one thing, and the correction carries forward through everything after.

Where the answers come from

It asks. You bridge.

Two ways, depending on where you run it. You never write SQL either way.

Direct

Inside Snowflake Cowork

The council queries your data itself. It states each question first, in the archetype's voice, so you always see what it's asking — then answers it.

Carried

Anywhere else

It hands you a ready-to-paste question. You run it in your Analyst chat, paste the answer back, say "answered." You're the bridge between the two.

Who's in the room

The council

Three who run the session. Eleven who might be cast into it. You sit at the head.

The Weavers — who run the session

Two roles work the machinery from outside the review. The third chair is yours.

Stages the review

The Director

Reads what you need, casts the archetypes, calls each one forward in turn, and decides which finding was the one that mattered. Predicts the outcome before it begins — and is held to that bet.

Watches the arc

The Dramaturg

Sits to the side and checks the honesty of it: did an archetype drift out of character, lean on a guess, or let a good story stand in for real evidence? Can send a scene back.

Chairs the council

You

You commission the review, carry the questions to the data, and hold the ground truth no one else has. Nothing moves without your word at the pause. You have the final say.

Three postures — the instinctive lenses

Ways of looking before words. Fast, structural, or guarded.

Posture

Monkey

Finds the anomaly you stopped looking for.

Posture

Octopus

Finds the connection nobody joined.

Posture

Lion

Finds what won't survive an audit.

Eight archetypes — the professional lenses

Each carries one craft, and catches the one mistake that craft is built to see.

Archetype

Warrior

Analysis nobody can act on.

Archetype

Mage

Correlation mistaken for structure.

Archetype

Priest

Findings on ungoverned data.

Archetype

Scout

The insider assumption you can't see.

Archetype

Merchant

The cost the analysis ignored.

Archetype

Bard

Correct work that won't land.

Archetype

Quartermaster

What breaks at scale.

Archetype

Market Herald

Drift from real behaviour.

The part that makes it trustworthy

Does it make things up when the data isn't there?

No. That's the one rule underneath everything: the council never answers from memory. If a question can't be answered from your data, it says so and logs it as a gap — it never fills the silence with a guess.

What if it gets something wrong?

You correct it at the pause. You hold ground truth it doesn't, and your correction travels forward into every scene that follows. It doesn't defend its own output against you.

Do I need to know the archetypes or the mechanics?

No. You write what you need and say "next." The casting, the roles, the turning points — that's machinery running underneath. You only ever operate three things: the ask, the answers, the pause.

What do I actually walk away with?

A plain verdict: what's settled and who should receive it, what's still open, the one finding that mattered most — and a ledger tracing every claim back to the question that produced it.

Seven tabs closed.
One thread instead.

The thinking behind it Meet the archetypes