For decades, we’ve mapped technology in layers. We’ve talked about three tiers, about infrastructure, applications, and interfaces stacked one on top of the other. We’ve drawn diagrams that resemble blueprints. We’ve used terms like “stack,” “pipeline,” and “architecture” to describe how systems fit together. These models have helped us understand complexity. They’ve guided procurement. They’ve made abstract systems manageable.
But they’ve also limited how we think. Layers are static. They assume gravity. They invite us to build vertically and replace entire slabs when something fails. Worse, they suggest we can change direction by swapping out a piece of the stack, as if technology were a collection of Lego blocks. We know that’s not true. Anyone who’s tried to rip out an ERP or rebuild a data model from scratch knows that systems don’t behave like boxes. They behave more like living organisms.
The better metaphor is not a layer. It’s a tree.
Trees grow. They evolve. They adapt to pressure, wind, sunlight, and disease. They bear the weight of their own history. They grow in a shape that reflects what they’ve survived. And once they start growing, they don’t reset. They build on what’s already there.
The tree gives us a better way to think about enterprise technology. Not as something we construct and freeze in place, but as something we nurture, shape, and occasionally prune. It also gives us a better way to understand platform architecture. Because if we’re honest, we’ve spent a long time focusing on the wrong parts of the tree.
We spend our energy on the branches. The customer portals, the CRM widgets, the automation overlays. We chase the latest SaaS feature, the new front-end design, the AI enhancement that promises 10x productivity. These things are not useless. Many of them bear fruit. But they’re still branches. And branches without a trunk will collapse.
If we look more closely, the trunk tells the real story of progress. It holds everything up. It connects the visible to the invisible. It contains the memory of the whole system. And it is not new. It is cumulative.
In enterprise terms, the trunk is the platform layer. Not just software. Not just tools. The trunk is the architecture that governs workflow, integration, identity, automation, and orchestration. In 2025, the trunk is PaaS. Not because vendors say so, but because organisations can no longer afford to build their digital future on disconnected pieces. The only way to grow in a coherent direction is to have a core that holds everything together.
But let’s go deeper. Because if the trunk is the platform, then what are the roots?
The roots are the management frameworks that nourish and stabilise the system. Governance models. Enterprise architecture. Service management disciplines. These are not visible in the day-to-day operation of a business. You won’t find them in the user interface. But they define how decisions are made, how changes are managed, how exceptions are handled, and how accountability is enforced. Without roots, a tree can grow fast, but not strong. It becomes brittle, unbalanced, and vulnerable. The same is true for technology organisations that skip governance in favor of speed.
Every healthy tree has deep roots, a strong trunk, and balanced branches. That’s true in nature. It’s also true in technology. But in our industry, we’ve overemphasised the branches. We admire the canopy. We highlight it in vendor demos and strategy decks. We make decisions based on user interface mockups. We forget that a beautiful front-end experience means nothing if the underlying system is fragmented.
This isn’t a call to ignore innovation. It’s a reminder that real innovation has structure. And structure comes from the core.
One of the most misunderstood concepts in modern enterprise strategy is “technical debt.” It’s often framed as old code, clunky systems, or deferred upgrades. But much of what we call technical debt is actually architectural imbalance. It’s the result of growing too many branches without strengthening the trunk. Adding one more SaaS app. One more integration. One more workflow that bypasses the system of record. It’s not wrong to experiment. But if you never return to the core and reinforce it, the weight becomes unsustainable.
That’s why PaaS matters. Not because it’s fashionable, but because it centralises the work that has become scattered. It offers a way to pull automation, identity, orchestration, and data control back into a managed space. It gives organisations the chance to grow with intention again. And it builds on the rings of the past, rather than pretending to start fresh.
The rings matter. They show how the system has matured over time. In a tree, each ring marks a year of growth, shaped by environmental conditions. In an enterprise, the equivalent is your platform capability. Your ability to automate, to integrate, to govern. These are not delivered in a box. They are developed, reinforced, and layered. They reflect where you’ve been and what you’ve learned.
Some organizations have thick trunks. Not because they’re old, but because they’ve invested in discipline. They’ve grown carefully. They’ve trimmed branches when needed. They’ve resisted the temptation to overextend. Others have overgrown branches and a hollow core. These are the ones who struggle when conditions change.
In smaller environments, we see another version of this idea. Think of the bonsai. A miniature tree, shaped with care. It’s not stunted. It’s curated. It has roots, a trunk, and branches like any other tree, but on a different scale. The same principles apply. You can’t ignore the trunk just because the system is small. In fact, the smaller the system, the more deliberate you must be. There’s no room for sprawl. Everything has to count.
This metaphor gives us another insight. Growth is not just about size. It’s about integrity. A bonsai oak and a fully matured oak can both be healthy. They are different forms of the same model. But both require attention to the whole. Not just what’s visible. Not just what’s new.
When we talk about digital transformation, we often act as if transformation is a single event. A big program. A system overhaul. But in nature, transformation is incremental. Trees transform every season, every year, layer by layer. Enterprise technology should follow the same principle. Change is not something we do to the system. It is something we enable by strengthening the system’s ability to adapt.
That brings us back to discipline. The difference between a thriving tree and an overgrown one is not how much it grows, but how well it is shaped. In enterprise terms, that means architecture, governance, stewardship, and platform coherence. Not as a constraint, but as the condition that makes sustainable growth possible.
PaaS is not a shortcut. It’s not a plug-in or a silver bullet. It’s the space where real work gets done. The core that supports orchestration, not just execution. The place where change becomes manageable. The trunk that holds everything up.
If we want our systems to survive the next decade of volatility, complexity, and reinvention, we need to get serious about the trunk. That means investing in platform thinking. That means connecting innovation to governance. That means trimming branches when they grow out of proportion. That means seeing the tree as a whole, not just a collection of features.
There’s a reason we’re drawn to trees in storytelling. They symbolise wisdom, patience, continuity. They remind us that strength comes from roots and structure, not surface. In the same way, our organisations don’t need more tools. They need more alignment. They need growth that follows a pattern. They need trunks that can hold what’s coming.
Because the future is not built from scratch. It grows from what came before. It builds layer on layer, ring by ring. And if we don’t manage that growth, if we don’t tend the trunk, the branches will collapse under their own weight.
So next time you’re reviewing a digital roadmap or assessing a new system, ask yourself one question.
What kind of tree are you growing?