Engineers have a curious relationship with their tools. Take Confluence, a platform many love to hate. It’s clunky, inconsistent, and often a source of frustration. As engineers curse its name when they’re forced to hunt through disorganized pages or wrestle with broken permissions.

But even in our disdain, there is a kind of grim acceptance. Confluence, for all its flaws, is a familiar beast—predictable in its chaos, manageable with enough effort and has some features that we come to enjoy like markdown support and imbedded graphs. What engineers often forget, however, is the immutable law of systems: there is always something worse out there.

For as much as engineers loathe Confluence, there are tools that stalk the executive hallways looking for its next unsuspecting victim.

And so, gather close, my kin, for I shall recount a tale that still burns in the hearts of those who bore witness. A tale of resistance, of valour, and of ultimate betrayal to the towering hoard of Microsoft’s realm.

The First Meeting: Emissary of what’s to come

It began on a cold winter’s morning. The frost of the day mirrored the icy dread in my heart as I joined the fateful Teams call. The migration team had summoned us, heralds of doom cloaked in polite corporate cheer. And lo, with voices as soft as lamb’s wool, they spoke the words that shall haunt us forevermore:

“We are migrating away from Confluence.”

A ripple of elation surged through the ranks of the engineers, laughter like a pack of hyenas ringing through the air. At last! Deliverance from the clunky labyrinth we had long been bound to. Freedom! Liberation! Perhaps we shall migrate to Notion! But their joy was short-lived, for what came next silenced even the boldest among us:

“We are migrating to… SharePoint.”

The words hit like a thunderbolt, an icy blade plunged straight into the heart. For in that moment, we knew, dear friends, that there is always another layer of hell, waiting patiently in the shadows, to ensnare the weary traveller.

Silence fell. And then came the murmurs, growing into a restless din. “SharePoint?” one voice cried. “Are they mad?” “Have we offended the gods of IT governance?” asked another.

Thus began the first meeting, the diplomatic exchange. A battle not of swords, but of words and PowerPoint decks. The 300 engineers, proud and resolute, stood united against the migration team, their tech-illiterate reasoning, and their blind allegiance to the siren song of Microsoft calling them to their doom.

The Second Meeting: The Engineers’ Stand

The second meeting arrived, a digital arena hosted once more in the icy expanse of Teams. This time, the engineers were not caught off guard. We entered the fray armed with slides, metrics, and the fiery conviction that only comes from years of defending systems we held dear.

The migration team, emboldened by their corporate mandate, began their assault. “SharePoint is more integrated,” they claimed. “More accessible.” They sang its praises like bards of old, weaving tales of seamless collaboration and limitless scalability.

But the engineers were ready.

“Integration?” our leader scoffed, stepping into the breach. “You mean the kind that buries knowledge under layers of unintuitive UI? Or do you refer to the ‘integration’ where every search returns files last edited in 2014?”

The opposition faltered, their smiles thinning. Another engineer took up the charge:

“Accessible? SharePoint’s interface is a labyrinth designed to confuse even the hardiest souls. A system so convoluted it could make Dante rewrite his Inferno.”

Every argument they posed, we countered. Every glossy promise, we dissected with cold precision. The migration team, for all their PowerPoint prowess, was no match for the fury of 300 impassioned engineers united in a common cause.

And as the meeting dragged on, a strange thing began to happen. The neutral parties—those who had yet to take sides—began nodding along with us. Their silence turned to tentative questions. “Wait, how will file permissions work? What about version control? How will diagrams be imbedded?”

Victory, dear friends, was within our grasp. For by the end of that meeting, the migration team agreed to revisit their plans, promising to consult further with the engineers before taking any final steps. It was a hard-fought battle, but the engineers stood victorious.

The Final Meeting: The Fall

The days following our hard-won victory were fleetingly quiet. Yet we, the engineers, knew better than to trust the stillness. For no victory comes without consequence, and the migration team had retreated not in defeat but in preparation.

And then the summons came.

It was no ordinary meeting invite—no innocuous calendar placeholder. This was a declaration of war, sent to the inboxes of every engineer, marked with words we had learned to fear: Mandatory Attendance. Leadership Present.

The engineers gathered once more, the battlefield now set. But as we joined the Teams call, our worst fears were confirmed. The migration team had brought reinforcements—no longer just project managers and eager tech analysts. No, this time they had summoned their generals. Directors, Vice Presidents, and a shadowy figure whose video feed remained suspiciously off, with the name tag “Terry (External)”… the Consultant.

We knew, in that moment, that the tide had turned against us.

The migration team began their assault with renewed vigor, wielding arguments now blessed by the powers that be. “SharePoint aligns with organizational goals,” they declared. “It is the future. The directive has already been signed and budget approved.”

One by one, our objections were swept aside. Our carefully crafted arguments, our metrics and slides—all dismissed with the wave of an executive hand. “The decision has been made,” they said, their words heavy as iron.

But the engineers are nothing if not relentless. We rallied, throwing every ounce of resistance we had left into the fray.

“Who will support this?” one engineer demanded. “Who will ensure the data is maintained, that structures don’t collapse into chaos? SharePoint’s complexity will require administrators we don’t have!”

“And what of flow and architectural diagrams?” cried another. “We embed these into our documentation, linking systems together like threads in a tapestry. How will SharePoint ever handle such intricacies?”

For a moment, the migration team faltered. But then Terry (external) spoke, their voice cold and measured, cutting through the din like a blade:

“Ownership and support structures will be established post-migration,” they said. “Engineering will adapt. As for diagrams, workflows, and embedded visuals—alternative tools can be utilized. This is not a barrier to compliance.”

Terry (external)’s video feed remained dark, their presence ghostly yet commanding. And now, they began their own assault, weaving arguments that resonated with the leadership:

“This migration is not about convenience or engineering preference,” they intoned. “It is about corporate compliance and policy. Confluence fails to meet governance standards. SharePoint aligns seamlessly.”

Another blow struck:

“Cost efficiency. SharePoint is included in the Microsoft ecosystem—no additional licensing, no redundant tools. It eliminates unnecessary spend.”

And another:

“Application sprawl must end. Every tool you keep beyond the core ecosystem weakens the organization. SharePoint consolidates, streamlines, and centralizes.”

The engineers were reeling, their objections ignored or dismissed. Every argument they made about usability, productivity, and the complexity of managing SharePoint’s labyrinthine structures fell on deaf ears. For the Consultant had seized the high ground—the holy trinity of compliance, cost, and consolidation.

And then, the final blow fell—a grave betrayal from one we had thought to be on our side.

The GRC lead, who had sat silently in every meeting prior, now spoke with authority: “SharePoint meets all compliance standards. Confluence does not.”

A collective gasp rippled through the engineers. The GRC lead, who had once stood with us in battles over documentation standards and audit trails, had turned against us. Their words were a death knell, sealing our fate.

“It is decided,” the VP intoned, their voice carrying the weight of inevitability.

The Aftermath

And so, my brothers and sisters, the war was lost. The engineers fought bravely, but they were outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and ultimately overwhelmed by forces beyond their control. Confluence fell, its pages scattered to the winds of the cloud, and the engineers were forced to march into the Microsoft Ecosystem, their heads held high despite the weight of defeat.

We stood on the precipice of change, knowing we had fought with all the strength, wit, and conviction we could muster. Yet even in our defeat, there was dignity. For we had held the line, resisting the inexorable tide of SharePoint until the bitter end.

But though the battle was lost, our spirit was not. Even as we settled into the labyrinth of document libraries and unyielding permissions, we carried with us the lessons of our resistance. We remembered the value of clarity, of efficiency, and of building systems that serve the people, not the process.

Let this tale be a warning and a rallying cry for all who may one day face the Migration Horde. Stand strong, my kin, for even when defeat seems inevitable, there is honor in the fight.

For Confluence. For the engineering.