A practitioner who went and got the proof.
PhiDo Labs is my research affiliation: thirty-three years building production systems, and a doctorate spent formalizing what those years taught.
The arc
Most software-engineering research is written by people who study systems from the outside. I spent thirty-three years inside them: architecting certified gaming platforms at IGT, rising from Principal Engineer to Chief Technology Officer at the fintech firm Figure, and most recently co-founding the embedded-finance startup Envoi as its CTO, leading engineering organizations as large as 105 people and holding more than 25 patents along the way. The knowledge that accumulates across that kind of career, in regulated domains under deadline, is real, hard-won, and almost entirely undocumented.
The PhD (Computer Science & Engineering, University of Nevada, Reno, 2025) was a deliberate move to fix that for myself first: to take what I knew in my hands and make it legible (citable, testable, teachable). My dissertation, From Practice to Process, did exactly that for API-first design. PhiDo Labs is the continuation of that move, pointed outward. The arc is not industry-then-academia; it is industry and academia, kept in the same loop on purpose.
Why an independent lab
A university lab comes with a department's agenda, a grant cycle's priorities, and a tenure clock's incentives. A consultancy comes with a billing model that quietly decides what gets studied. I built PhiDo Labs to avoid both: our research program follows the problems that matter in practice, and the work answers to whether it is true and useful, not to a funder's roadmap.
It is built to last across that independence. Whether PhiDo Labs has zero products or five, the through line holds: formalize what practitioners know, publish it where the field can find it, build it back into practice.
Who the system leaves out
The knowledge-transmission problem is not evenly distributed. The formal channels that carry software-engineering knowledge (elite programs, conference travel, the protected time it takes to write) were never equally available. A great deal of the most valuable production knowledge is held by exactly the people those channels do not reach: practitioners without the credential, the network, or the runway to publish. When that knowledge never reaches the field, the field rarely counts it as missing, because it never saw it in the first place.
That is not a side note to this work; it is part of why the work exists. Lowering the cost of turning practitioner knowledge into rigorous research is, in the end, a question of whose experience counts as a source, and of who gets to push boundaries, open doors, and shape the field.
The name
When the dissertation was at its hardest, my advisor gave me one piece of advice: finish it like a bulldog. Bite down and don't let go.
Fido. PhD. PhiDo. It is a pun, and it is personal, and it is also an accurate description of how this kind of work actually gets done: you find the thing worth holding onto, and you do not let go of it. I carried a small red bulldog toy through the entire dissertation as a talisman for exactly that.
The talisman has since been promoted: I now have a French bulldog named Theodore Prime (Theo), who serves, with appropriate gravity, as our resident embodiment of not letting go.
Principal investigator
Nicole Beaulieu, PhD
PhD, Computer Science & Engineering, University of Nevada, Reno (2025). MS, Human–Computer Interaction, Iowa State (2018). BA, Computer Science, University of San Diego (1993).
Dissertation: From Practice to Process: Formalizing API-First Design through Method Engineering, ProQuest No. 32398063