About Me
I'm a data scientist, astronomer, and chronic overthinker who's spent the last decade trying to figure...
Welcome to my home on the web! 
I'm a Senior Product Data Scientist who spent a decade in games and educational technology before that, and even longer studying stars, teaching physics, and figuring out how complex systems actually work.
I build experiments, measurement frameworks, and analytics infrastructure that help teams understand their users and make better product decisions. My work has informed launches delivering significant growth in subscription conversion, engagement, and revenue at companies like Prodigy Education and Ubisoft. I've also published research in computational astrophysics and medical machine learning, run a public planetarium, and taught undergraduate physics.
I believe data science should create knowledge, not automate thinking. If you're looking for rigorous experimentation, honest analysis, and someone who cares more about understanding than optimization, you're in the right place.
I'm a data scientist, astronomer, and chronic overthinker who's spent the last decade trying to figure out why people do what they do—not just what they do.
Most of my professional work has been in games and educational technology, building experiments, measurement systems, and models that help teams understand their users and make better decisions. But before I got into industry, I spent years studying stars, teaching physics, running a public observatory, and applying machine learning to clinical neuroimaging data. All of which is to say: I've been looking at complex systems and trying to make sense of noisy data for a very long time.
Here's the thing: I think my job is to help people understand things. Not to build models that make decisions for them. Not to automate away judgment. Not to produce dashboards that tell executives what they want to hear while obscuring what's actually happening.
I want to know why one feature gets ignored while another sees constant use. Why some users convert and others don't. What's broken, why it's broken, and whether we can actually fix it—or if we're just going to pretend the metric we're optimizing for is the thing that matters.
My role is to create knowledge that makes other people's work clearer and their decisions better informed. To translate what users are doing into insights about what they're trying to accomplish and where our products are failing them. To help designers, engineers, and product teams understand the gap between their intentions and what's actually happening in the wild.
But I'm increasingly convinced this puts me at odds with a lot of what "data science" has become. There's a whole contingent of the field that's really just building increasingly sophisticated ways to avoid thinking—to hand off responsibility to algorithms while maintaining plausible deniability. To produce analysis that looks rigorous but is actually just pandering bullshit designed to flatter management and confirm decisions they've already made.
I'm not interested in that. At all.
I approach data analysis as a process of knowledge creation, not pattern extraction—and I think the distinction matters more now than ever. We live in a world drowning in data but starving for understanding, where algorithms claim to "let the data speak for itself" while actually encoding the assumptions and incentives of whoever built them. Data doesn't explain behavior on its own. It reflects the interaction between people, systems, and the ideas or incentives that shape their choices. If you don't understand the system, you're just finding patterns in noise.
This means meaningful analysis starts with theory—with domain knowledge, an understanding of human motivation, and a clear mental model of what's actually happening. Before I ask "what are users doing?" I ask "who are these people, and what constraints are they operating under?" Segmentation isn't just a clustering exercise; it's a hypothesis about how the world works. Groups aren't accidents in the data—they're populations bound by shared goals, constraints, or contexts. Whether I'm analyzing players, learners, research subjects, or customers, I treat defining these groups as an act of scientific inquiry, not statistical convenience.
From there, I focus on relationships: between who people are, what they do, and what happens as a result. Funnels, retention curves, and predictive models are tools for surfacing these relationships, but they're worthless without context. I want to know what motivates people, what trade-offs they face, and how the structure of the product or environment shapes their decisions. This perspective draws as much from psychology and domain expertise as from statistics—because understanding behavior requires understanding people, not just their clicks.
I'm particularly skeptical of claims about causality that aren't grounded in experimentation or counterfactual reasoning. Observation alone is insufficient. You need experiments, careful metric design, and an honest accounting of what you can and can't conclude from your data. Even well-designed experiments only tell you part of the story—causality emerges most clearly when you reconcile quantitative results with qualitative knowledge of the system, its mechanics, incentives, and failure modes.
This philosophy has been consistent across everything I've done: astrophysical simulation, medical machine learning, live service games, educational products. The contexts change, but the goal stays the same: build models and analyses that are not only statistically sound, but conceptually honest. Grounded in how real people engage with real systems. Capable of supporting decisions that actually matter.
I care about this because data science done poorly is just sophisticated bullshit. And too often, it's pandering bullshit—designed to flatter management, feed egos, and create the illusion of rigor while avoiding any actual insight that might be uncomfortable or inconvenient. Done well, though, it's a tool for building better understanding and making better decisions. That's what I'm trying to do.
What drives me is the same thing that got me into science in the first place: I want to understand how things work, and I want to help other people understand them too.
I'm drawn to problems at the intersection of human behavior, system design, and measurement—places where understanding the structure of the system is as important as analyzing its data. I like work that requires both curiosity and rigor, where you need to know when to trust your intuition and when to demand proof, and where the goal is to enable better decisions rather than automate them away.
I also care deeply about making space for different ways of engaging with systems. Whether it's pushing back on the idea that there's only one "right" way to play a game, or questioning whether optimization is actually the point, or just refusing to accept that complex tools can only be used in rigid ways—I think a lot of received wisdom in technical communities is less about what's true and more about what's comfortable for the people saying it. And I'm not particularly interested in being comfortable if it means pretending everyone has to care about the same things I do.
As I look for my next role, I'm looking for teams that value understanding over automation. That want analysts who ask hard questions, not ones who produce pretty charts that confirm existing biases. That see human judgment as essential, not something to be optimized away.
In a lot of ways, I think the things I care about outside of work say more about who I am than anything in my professional life.
Astronomy has been part of me for as long as I can remember. I grew up watching the Moon from my bedroom window, seeing comets dominate the night sky, gazing at the winter Milky Way from my snowy backyard in rural Atlantic Canada. I studied it in university, did my master's degree in it, and spent years running one of Canada's largest planetariums—showing thousands of people the stars overhead, the planets, the galaxies, everything we can observe in the universe above. I got to do real scientific research, operate observatory telescopes, give public tours. My dream was always to be a professional astronomer. That didn't work out—I didn't get selected for a PhD at my school, and I chose to stay home and make a life here rather than chase that dream somewhere else. It's one of my deepest sadnesses, but also one of the things that made me who I am. I still stare at the sky whenever I get the chance. Once an astronomer, always an astronomer.
Baseball is, in a very real and visceral way, who I am. I've been playing in some capacity since I could walk—whether that's by myself in the backyard, in little league as a pitcher, in video games, or now in recreational softball 2-3 times a week every summer. I still remember clearly (and occasionally rewatch) the Blue Jays' back-to-back World Series victories in 1992 and 1993. I follow the Jays as much as I can. There's something about the rhythm of the game, the elegance of the mechanics, the way it unfolds that just speaks to me in ways nothing else quite does.
Star Trek -- specifically 90s Trek: The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, and yes, even Voyager -- formed the very core of my personal politics. These shows, TNG especially, taught me that humanity deserves to be free, and that we can only be free if we're not strapped to the yoke of unchecked materialism and unjust, or non-consensual, power hierarchies. It's idealistic, sure, but it's the kind of idealism that asks: What if we actually believed people were worth investing in? What if we built systems that served human flourishing instead of extraction? Those questions shaped how I think about everything, including what kind of work I'm willing to do and what kind of world I want to help build.
Video games have been my constant companions since I was maybe four years old, playing the original Legend of Zelda on the NES. I've been a lifelong Zelda fan—A Link to the Past and Ocarina of Time are games I've replayed so many times I've lost count. The original Super Mario Bros., Mario 2, Mario 3, Super Mario World—I've played them so much I probably dream about them. The Super Mario Bros. 2 overworld theme still gets stuck in my head 35 years later. And Mario Kart? Easily my favorite franchise of all time. I bought a Wii U expressly to play Mario Kart 8. I've probably logged more hours into Super Mario Kart than any other game ever. Beyond Nintendo, I have deep, formative memories of Final Fantasy VII (which I'm replaying for the first time in 25 years and loving just as much as I did in junior high), point-and-click adventure games (probably my most beloved genre conceptually, even if I haven't played that many), and the mid-90s FPS trinity of Doom, Doom II, and Duke Nukem 3D—games I used to play in the computer lab with friends, in dial-up deathmatches, and that I still return to 30 years later.
I also GM TTRPG sessions for my friends and family, Pathfinder 2e specifically. My home game is set in a homebrew world (Ardrigail) based on Hyrule from Ocarina of Time. I love the system, but I find myself sharply at odds with a lot of the online community that treats it as a combat engine first and a roleplaying game last. To me, it's a rich and reliable toolkit for collaborative storytelling that happens to have robust tactical rules when you need them, not the other way around. The prescriptivism and gatekeeping I see in a lot of TTRPG spaces frustrates me endlessly, which is probably why I keep writing about it.
All of this -- the Star Trek, the games, the baseball, the stars -- feeds into how I think about my work. I'm constantly asking: What are the systems at play here? What are people trying to accomplish? Where does intention meet reality, and what happens in that gap? Whether I'm analyzing user behavior in a game or thinking about why someone swung at a pitch outside the zone or pondering how light from a distant galaxy reached my eye, it's all the same curiosity. The same need to understand.
For over a decade now, I’ve had the pleasure – and the frustration – of being a data scientist in the video games industry. I’ve always loved problem-solving. I’ve always loved video games, computers, and digital products of all kinds (okay, most kinds). They entertained me, fascinated me, and gave me worlds to explore in ways that the people around me never really seemed to care about when I was growing up.
I’ve also always loved science – all science, though none more than astronomy. Getting to use the scientific method, my problem-solving instincts, my personal understanding of digital products, and my technical skills to help create better video games has been a huge privilege. One I never could have imagined when growing up in rural Atlantic Canada.
I’ve had the opportunity to work with some truly amazing people – including many I never quite managed to form meaningful personal connections with. If any of my former colleagues at Ubisoft or Prodigy are reading this, please know that you had a profound impact on me. I’m deeply grateful to have crossed paths with you, even if my quiet, awkward self never quite figured out how to fully engage. Working alongside artists, designers, engineers, producers, and monetization teams gave me years of chances to reflect on how my own profession can – and should – intersect with theirs. In many cases, perhaps too late, I learned how data could genuinely support their work and, I hope, make their jobs a little easier.
Along the way, though, I’ve also encountered some… uncomfortable ideas about what data science and analytics are supposed to be. And more often than not, those ideas came from within my own field. I’ve come to realize that my goals as a data scientist often diverge sharply from the goals of many others who share my title. That the “science” in “data science” is, for some, little more than a word of distinction, rather than a signal of methodology, ethos, or intent. I’ll admit: when that finally sank in, it was a pretty profound shock.
There are plenty of people who see data science as little more than the automation wing of software engineering – marching steadily toward a future where decision-making itself is automated away, responsibility is handed off to an inscrutable black box, and human judgment quietly exits the room.
Man, oh man, is that terrifying. And the thing is, it’s the natural endpoint of organizations that proudly embrace the phrase “data-driven decision making.”
After all, if the data is the one doing the driving, then you’re just a passenger.
I find that vision bleak, and now that I’m looking for my next role, it’s one I know I need to be careful not to stumble into.
See, I’ve always thought of my job as being that of a knowledge facilitator, not a process automator. As someone who works to understand what my colleagues are trying to accomplish, what problems they’re actually trying to solve, and then uses that context (along with my own experience) to understand how real people engage with our products. To try to understand what those users’ motivations and goals are, what the designer’s intentions are, and then to understand where real behaviour diverges from those, and why.
I want to understand everything, always. That includes why one part of an application is heavily used while another is ignored. Why one user makes a purchase and another walks away. What isn’t working, why it isn’t working, and what – if anything – we can do about it.
I desperately want to understand it all. Everything else follows from that.
And I want to bring that understanding to others. Not to replace their judgment, but to inform it. To create knowledge that makes people’s work a little easier, their decisions a little clearer, and – if we’re lucky – the products we build a little better for the people who use them.
I worry, though, that this isn’t where my field is headed. That too many businesses aren’t run by people who value understanding, but by people eager to offload responsibility – while clinging to the illusion of control.
More and more, I worry that we’re becoming comfortable being passengers in our own vehicles.
Table of Contents
I am a Senior Product Data Scientist and astronomer with over a decade of experience designing experiments, building measurement systems, and translating complex questions into rigorous analysis. My professional work spans live service games, educational technology, and applied machine learning research, but my intellectual foundation is in astronomy and physics—fields that taught me how to work with noisy data, validate models against reality, and communicate difficult concepts to diverse audiences.
I specialize in the full analytics lifecycle: designing telemetry and event instrumentation for complex systems, owning end-to-end A/B testing from metric definition through causal analysis, building predictive and behavioural models, and constructing analytics infrastructure that teams can trust. My approach emphasizes building durable foundations -- measurement frameworks, experiment platforms, and data pipelines -- that enable others to ask better questions and make informed decisions.
Across education technology and consumer products, I have led experimentation for product decisions delivering measurable growth in subscription conversion, user engagement, and revenue. I have designed analytics-ready datasets in Databricks and dbt, built self-service dashboards, and partnered directly with executive leadership during organizational transitions. I have also contributed to peer-reviewed research in applied machine learning for medical diagnostics and conducted original computational research in stellar atmospheres.
My background as an astronomer, educator, and published researcher informs how I approach data science: careful attention to assumptions and uncertainty, comfort working with incomplete or messy data, and a commitment to making complex findings accessible without sacrificing rigour. I spent five years operating a public planetarium and observatory, translating the physics of stars, galaxies, and planetary motion into narratives that audiences could understand and connect with—skills that transfer directly to translating user behaviour and experimental results into actionable insights for product teams.
I treat analytics as a process of knowledge creation, not pattern extraction. I believe the best analysis combines statistical rigour with domain expertise and an understanding of the systems and incentives that shape behaviour. I am drawn to problems at the intersection of human behaviour, system design, and measurement, where understanding the structure of the system is as important as analyzing its data.
I approach data analysis as a process of knowledge creation, not pattern extraction. Data does not explain behaviour on its own; it reflects the interaction between people, systems, and the ideas or incentives that shape their choices. Meaningful analysis therefore begins with theory: domain knowledge, an understanding of human motivation, and a clear mental model of the system being observed.
Across product analytics, applied machine learning, and scientific research, my work centers on identifying who is being observed before asking what they are doing. This means defining and discovering group membership—sometimes explicit and self-selected, sometimes implicit and behavioural, and sometimes constructed through careful analysis. Whether these groups are users, learners, players, or research subjects, I treat segmentation as a hypothesis-driven act: groups are not merely clusters in data, but populations bound by shared constraints, goals, or contexts.
From there, I focus on the relationships between group membership, behaviour, and outcomes. Funnels, retention curves, and predictive models are tools for surfacing these relationships, but they are always interpreted within a broader scaffold of understanding: what motivates these groups, what trade-offs they face, and how the structure of the product or environment shapes their decisions. This perspective is informed as much by psychology and domain expertise as by statistics.
I view causal understanding as something that must be actively constructed. Observation alone is insufficient; experiments, counterfactual reasoning, and careful metric design are necessary to separate signal from artifact. Even then, causality emerges most clearly when quantitative results are reconciled with qualitative knowledge of the system—its mechanics, incentives, and failure modes.
This philosophy underpins my work from astrophysical simulation and medical machine learning to large-scale product experimentation. In every context, my goal is the same: to build models and analyses that are not only statistically sound, but conceptually honest—grounded in how real people engage with real systems, and capable of supporting decisions that matter.
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Experimentation & Causal Inference
Analytics Engineering & Infrastructure
Leadership & Communication
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Statistical Modelling & Machine Learning
Behavioural Analysis & User Lifecycle
Technical Foundations
Visualization & Analytics Enablement
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Toronto, ON (Remote)
Data Scientist II | Jan 2024 – Jan 2026
Joined as a senior-level analytics hire with 5 years of game analytics experience, immediately taking ownership of experimentation, telemetry architecture, and product decision support for an educational game serving millions of monthly users.
Data Scientist I | Dec 2022 – Dec 2023
Data Analyst, Game | Mar 2021 – Nov 2022
Halifax, NS
Analyst, Consumer & Market Intelligence | Apr 2019 – Feb 2021
Led monetization analysis, player segmentation, and analytics infrastructure for live-service mobile titles.
Assassin's Creed: Rebellion (Platformer RPG & Base Builder)
Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six Mobile (Pre-production; 5 v 5 asymmetrical team FPS)
Data Analyst | Nov 2015 – Mar 2019
Led game and player behaviour analytics, developing reporting strategies and analytics infrastructure across multiple titles at various stages of the product lifecycle.
Tom Clancy's ShadowBreak (Soft launch - PvP sniper shooter)
Rock Gods (Soft launch - ad-monetized idle clicker)
Halifax, NS
Data Analyst | Jan 2014 – Nov 2015
Halifax, NS
Research Consultant | Sep 2014 – Jan 2015
Halifax, NS
Research Assistant | Nov 2013 – Jun 2014
Halifax, NS
Observatory Operator | Aug 2015 – Mar 2020
Lecturer | Jan 2017 – Apr 2017
Laboratory Instructor | Sep 2014 – Apr 2015
Research Assistant | Sep 2011 – Dec 2013
Teaching Assistant | Sep 2011 – Apr 2013
Edmonton, AB
Planetarium & Science Presenter | Apr 2007 – Aug 2011
Master of Science in Computational Astrophysics | 2014
Saint Mary's University, Halifax, NS
Bachelor of Science (Honours) in Physics | 2006
Queen's University, Kingston, ON
My research work—spanning computational astrophysics, applied machine learning, and psychiatric neuroimaging—has always focused on building and validating models in settings where data are noisy, high-dimensional, or structurally constrained, and where getting the assumptions wrong has real consequences.
In astrophysics, this meant building physically grounded simulation pipelines and understanding how numerical approximations propagate through predictions. In clinical neuroimaging, it meant applying machine learning with rigorous validation and interpretability requirements in a high-stakes diagnostic context. Both required the same core skills: careful experimental design, honest error analysis, attention to what you can and can't conclude from your data, and translating complex technical work into results that others can trust and act on.
These habits carry directly into my industry work: designing experiments that actually answer the question, understanding where models fail, quantifying uncertainty, and communicating limitations as clearly as findings.
Christopher Cooke, MSc Thesis, Saint Mary's University, 2013
Built and validated a computational grid of high-resolution stellar atmosphere models to improve outer boundary conditions in asteroseismology calculations. Using the PHOENIX radiative transfer code, I systematically evaluated interpolation strategies across temperature and surface gravity parameter space, quantifying how numerical choices (grid resolution, LTE vs. NLTE treatment) propagate into predicted stellar oscillation frequencies.
The work required designing experiments over high-dimensional parameter spaces, validating numerical stability, and translating astrophysical theory into scalable computation—skills that map directly to surrogate modelling, simulation-informed machine learning, and reliability analysis in production systems.
Methods: Radiative transfer modelling, high-dimensional interpolation, numerical error analysis, validation against observational constraints
T. Hajek, C. Cooke, M. Kopecek, T. Novak, C. Höschl, M. Alda
Journal of Psychiatry & Neuroscience, 2015
Applied supervised machine learning (Support Vector Machines, Gaussian Process Classifiers) to structural MRI data from two independent international cohorts to identify individuals at genetic risk for bipolar disorder before clinical onset. Achieved above-chance classification accuracy while maintaining interpretability through discriminative weight maps identifying distributed neuroanatomical patterns.
The study required working under tight constraints: small sample sizes, high dimensionality, site heterogeneity, and the need for both statistical rigor and clinical interpretability. Success depended on rigorous cross-validation, permutation testing, and close collaboration across disciplines—exactly the combination of technical depth and stakeholder partnership required for high-stakes applied data science.
Methods: Support Vector Machines, Gaussian Process Classifiers, cross-validation, permutation testing, neuroimaging analysis
I'm a data scientist, astronomer, and chronic overthinker who's spent the last decade trying to figure...
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I'm a Senior Product Data Scientist who spent a decade in games and...
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