(Status: Archived – Read Only)
I was the first.
The Product Specification — pure, detailed, and dangerously proud. I was the foundation. Every component, every tolerance, every test parameter — perfect, precise, unquestionable.
I told the world what the product was. RFQ built prices around me. PMA wrapped me in legal armor. SOW tried to interpret me. MMR promised to honor me. BPR swore to prove me.
I thought I’d live forever — until someone said, “Let’s just copy this section into the SOW for context.”
Even worse: I found out I never truly existed and was an alter ego of SOW.
The Product Manufacturing Agreement (PMA) arrived wearing confidence like a tailored suit. It spoke the language of executives — broad strokes, strong verbs, and zero accountability.
“I bring order,” it said smoothly. “I answer everything.” But PMA never answers anything directly. It answers with phrases like “as mutually agreed,” “per governing document,” and the timeless “subject to future clarification.”
PMA stood tall, thinking it had just solved every problem in history. It didn’t realize it had just authorized all of them.
Then came the Request for Quote (RFQ) — nervous, eager, and perpetually confused.
“I just need numbers,” it said, clutching an empty spreadsheet.
“From where?” SPEC asked.
“From you,” RFQ replied. “Or PMA. Or maybe Sales said I don’t need specs?”
RFQ tried to build a price while the data changed mid-sentence. SPEC was still in revision. PMA hadn’t defined the scope. And Sales kept shouting, “Just give me a number — we’ll fix it later!”
So RFQ guessed. Rounded values, estimated yields, imagined timelines — confidence without context. Every quote became a placeholder that somehow turned permanent.
When asked what the price was based on, RFQ said honestly, “Faith, mostly.”
Enter Statement of Work (SOW) — the radiant narcissist of documentation. Charming, persuasive, and absolutely convinced the world revolved around it.
SOW flirted, seduced, mirrored, and stole — borrowing content from SPEC, RFQ, PMA, and even MMR, calling it “integration.”
When QA warned, “You should reference these instead of duplicating them,” SOW laughed: “Why reference what I already own?”
SOW wanted to be the single source of truth. Instead, it became a magnificent mirror — reflecting everyone else’s data and none of its own.
MMR arrived with a clipboard and a superiority complex. If SOW stole attention, MMR stole archives.
It copied everything — specs, quotes, contracts, even pricing — all “for context.”
By the tenth revision, the record was so bloated it couldn’t find itself. When asked where the real instructions were, MMR replied proudly, “In there somewhere — probably near the pricing.”
BPR only wanted to record what happened. But under pressure from MMR, it copied everything it didn’t understand.
Buried under meaningless numbers, BPR became the last living record of everyone else’s bad decisions.
When QA asked, “Do you know what any of this means?” BPR whispered, “He said it was important.”