I used to assume that the way things got done in a company would naturally get passed on to the next person.
At one company I worked with, there were a few people everyone relied on (as there always are) to do the really hard or important things. While all industries face this to some extent, this was especially true in manufacturing, where I grew up: turnover is high, talent is difficult to find, and Baby Boomers are stepping into retirement with Gen Xers trailing not too far behind.
The problem is, these guys and gals knew the processes. And they didn’t just know them, it almost seemed as if they were the process.
They trained new hires.
They solved the problems no one else could.
When something broke, their names came up immediately.
They were the gods of the factory, keepers of all the tricks and hacks, makers of all the solutions, holders of legacy knowledge. Experts in their craft with years of experience to show for it. Reliable. Dependable. (Dare I say magical.) And irreplaceable.
Irreplaceable?
I remember chatting with a friend of mine who was the GM of a fairly large operation (north of ~$200M in annual revenue). We were catching up on business priorities heading into the New Year when, with nervous laughter, he sighed and said:
“Batina, I have five employees right now who make up over 100 years of experience in one department. Two are retiring, and one is quitting next week. That’s what’s keeping me awake at night.”
And guess what? None of what they knew was written down.
Whoa.
What do you do when a century of knowledge is on the brink of walking out the door? All that irreplaceable know-how. That certainly feels like a crisis. And for my friend, trying to hit aggressive new year sales quotas, run a lean operation, and over-promise on new products and innovation, it was a full-blown crisis.
So it got me thinking (as crises tend to do).
Traditional manuals, binders, and text-based SOPs weren’t cutting it (if they were even used in the first place). No one reads them, and even if they do, they rarely reflect how work actually happens on the floor. Tribal knowledge lives in people’s heads: the shortcuts, the tricks, the “watch out for this” moments, and the “this is how they say to do it, but here’s how it actually works” insights.
And if that knowledge isn’t captured, it walks right out the door with them.
That’s when I realized the solution had to be simple, fast, and embedded in the work itself. People shouldn’t have to stop what they’re doing to write everything down. Frankly, writing instructions most people can actually follow is an art, and asking teams to meticulously document processes that 90% of the organization will never read is unrealistic.
Knowledge capture has to fit into the natural flow of work. Otherwise, critical process knowledge never gets captured, and you end up like my friend, heading into a new year already in crisis.
That’s why I created SnapSOP.
Recording processes where they happen. Short, clear, step-by-step videos that show exactly how things get done. Not perfect. Not polished. Just real and usable. Because when capturing knowledge is easy, people actually do it (imagine that).
And when it’s easy to access, teams actually use it.
At SnapSOP, our goal is simple: help teams capture critical processes before they walk out the door so knowledge isn’t lost when people retire, quit, or move on.
If there’s one action I’d recommend every leader take this year, it’s this: sit down with your most experienced people and have them show the work, not just tell it. Keep it to an hour. Pick a day. And just… record.
Raw videos. No scripts. Experts walking through what they do and explaining their “magic” as they normally would. Keep it accessible. Make it easy to reference.
I would urge any business big or small, do this now, while your best people are still here.
Because once that knowledge is gone, it’s incredibly hard, time-consuming, and expensive to rebuild.
Your team will thank you.
Your future self will thank you.
And your operation won’t miss a beat, even when your most irreplaceable people move on.