Jon Jack | Founder of OvertimeGOKey Takeaways
- You keep prompts organized by writing each prompt you reuse as one standard operating procedure in three forms: a long form the AI follows word for word, a short form the team reads, and a video a digital twin teaches.
- Cut the process before you write it down. Once a process is built we look to slash it in half at the same productivity or higher, then go line for line asking whether each remaining step could be removed. Writing a bloated process down makes it permanent and hands it to a machine to run at speed.
- Every agent in our house is built to a standard of 10 to 15 procedures around it, with ledgers and audit logs underneath, so variance, root causes, and the cost of every answer are tracked while efficiency climbs. The procedures exist as practice first and get written down as the system reaches them; the standard is what governs, not the file count.
- One written procedure cut a client’s interviewing from well over 60 hours a week to roughly a tenth of that, and the machine now runs that first round start to finish.
What should I do with the prompts I keep reusing?
You keep your prompts organized by turning every prompt you reuse into a standard operating procedure, the written steps a task follows every time, and writing that procedure once in three forms. The long form is the machine’s law book: my agents, AI assistants trained on our written procedures, run it verbatim. The short form is the human’s card: I can’t expect my team to read a 20 page document, so the team gets the one page that matters. The video form comes from my digital twin, an AI version of me that looks and sounds like me: I connect the procedure to an AI platform, the twin teaches it on camera, and I never stand in front of one. One piece of writing, three different readers.
A prompt you keep reusing is a procedure you haven’t written down yet. Write it, number it, own it, and the machine runs it. The collection stops mattering.
Right now your prompts sit in chats, in notes, in docs, and the one you need is never where you left it. When someone shows me a thousand saved GPT prompts, my first thought is that they don’t understand structure. “They can be the most organized person outside of that, and it means nothing. If you don’t have structure, it’s no different than the entrepreneur wearing every hat, micromanaging every little detail.”
This holds whether or not you use AI at all. If there’s no AI anywhere in your business, you still need standard operating procedures that remove you from the middle of it, and when you don’t have them it shows. You’re the one wearing every hat.
Organizing the chats themselves is a different job. Those 50 open ChatGPT tabs won’t save you covers that one.
What is a standard operating procedure?
A standard operating procedure is the steps a task follows every time, written down, stated once, and enforced always, so the failure is prevented before it ever happens.
The first SOP I ever implemented was at a Brazilian steakhouse. The house strategy at those tables is to fill you up on salad and carbs before the meat arrives. The first thing I do walking in is turn my card green, then give the server the procedure before anything hits the table:
“I came here for meat. I don’t need any sides. In fact, bring the beef rib you’re usually hiding in the back out first, so they know I’m not here to play.”
That’s now how every Brazilian steakhouse I walk into runs. They operate my standard operating procedure instead of theirs, and theirs was built to fill me up. Mine also says bring the premium meat, the cut they only carry to the table when a guest asks for it. When I walk in, they know that’s the first thing to bring. They’re trained to my standard.
My philosophy around procedure came out of real estate. My first standard operating procedure there was detailed enough that every minute cost was accounted for. A toilet is the best example I can give you. It ships with a standard wax ring. We knew that ring wouldn’t last on that install, so we bought a jumbo wax ring instead. We bought the hose that connects the toilet to the waterline. In the SOP, which we call a scope of work, we wrote in the plumber’s tape that wraps the threading, because the tape is a cost and it gets its own line item.
That level of detail is why we landed our project costs inside a 10% variance. The failures I had in real estate, and I’ve had plenty, came when I became cocky and stopped following my own process. What they were really protecting against was variance, because variance costs money. Any dollar you can’t predict or control is hurting your business. That is the whole reason procedure exists. I started by purchasing procedures other people had written. Today, in my own business in a different industry, the rule is mine and it’s short: anything done more than once gets a process.
How can I create an effective SOP for my small business?
You create an effective SOP by finding the work you do repeatedly, writing it out fully, then cutting it down until only the work is left.
- Find the work you do repeatedly. List every process you touch, then mark the ones you touch again and again. Sending an email qualifies. So does a build with thirty-six steps.
- Give every procedure a number and a family. Two digits, three letters, then the name —
01-OPS-New-Client-Intake. The number keeps the order, the family keeps the neighbourhood. - Write it long before you write it short. Build it large with your whole thought process in it. Cutting what is not needed is easier than hunting for what is missing.
- Cut everything that is not the work. Once it is built, slash it in half. The bar is the shorter version at the same productivity, if not higher.
- Decide who writes it and who approves it. Nothing becomes law until it passes approval.
Find the work you do repeatedly
List out every process you touch. Then mark the ones you touch repeatedly. Sending an email qualifies, and so does a build with thirty-six steps in it.
If you’re new to this and don’t have a method yet, go find an effective strategy for the thing you’re documenting and write that in. You don’t have to invent the approach, and you don’t have to work it out alone. Ask us and we’ll help you build it.
Give every procedure a number and a family
We number every procedure and file it by family: 00-OPS, 00-GEO, 00-SLS, 00-DST. Two digits, three letters, then the name. Your first file might be 01-OPS-New-Client-Intake. The number keeps the order, the family keeps the neighbourhood, and an agent pointed at that folder knows exactly what it’s holding. Start there and you have already solved the problem the prompt pile creates.
Write it long before you write it short
Initially I build my procedures large, with all of my thought process in them. It’s much easier to cut what isn’t needed than to go hunting for what’s missing.
Doing something every day doesn’t mean I remember the mechanism of the process. Sometimes I have to be in the act and record myself working in real time, then go back and watch it to find my actual process. That recording is where the first draft comes from.
I get into a groove and the work gets done. Someone coming after me follows what they think is the same process and doesn’t get the same result, because the part that made it work was never written down. Documenting every step is what makes the process consistent, and a consistent process is what lets you step out of the business.
Cut everything that isn’t the work
Once the process is built, we cut the waste and any inefficiency out of it. The KPI for the shorter version is simple: it has to match the same productivity or higher, with the waste gone. Then we go line for line and ask one question of every remaining step. Could this be removed? Most of my first pass dies right there, and what survives is what the agents run.
Who writes the procedure, and who approves it
After years of learning how we operate, our agents write their own procedures, and they write ways to run them more efficiently. How do we cut token usage on a task. Where does a step repeat itself. I review what they draft, then I put it into effect. Nothing becomes law before that.
Every process and every agent is built to a standard of 10 to 15 procedures around it, filed in families we call GEO, OPS, SLS, and DST. Even the guardrails are procedures: the rules deciding what an agent must never say and never do are written and versioned like everything else, so no quiet edit ever moves one.
Under the procedures sit the ledgers. A ledger is how you know where a thing is and what it did. It is the GPS to your own operation: which agent owns what, where the procedure lives, what ran, what it cost, what went wrong. Ours track variance, root causes, issues across every agent we run, and the cost of every token the machine spends. We track all of it so we can minimize all of it while efficiency climbs. Every agent here runs under a Training Brief, the standing document that trains it the way you’d train a new hire. The brief exists; what’s in it stays in the house.
Using this blog as the example. Before a word was drafted, the agent asked me a set of questions and waited for every answer. Then it asked follow-up questions, worked out what belonged in this piece, and built a bank of what still needed to be added. It researched to confirm what I told it actually held up, because repetition and familiarity are exactly how people skip steps. We test what we preach in the article, then the article works off that. Before the questions, it researched what the market is asking for: real searched queries pulled from data, never invented ones. Then it dialed the article to that demand, and I graded the draft with a red pen against a written rubric. Questions first, research underneath, the work dialed to what people are asking for. For this topic we built our own category, because the need was not being served, and we could build it because the agent base underneath it’s elite.
What are common mistakes to avoid when writing SOPs for small businesses?
The five common mistakes are allowing the AI to do the thinking for you, adding an agent to a business that has no system, writing the procedure for a human when a machine has to execute it, not having guardrails, and delegating a task that was never written down at all. They’re ranked here with the worst first.
I. Allowing the AI to do the thinking
Owners run ChatGPT like a business partner, then find out the research was wrong and the sources were garbage.
Through Overtime Global I’ve met with boards, and the recurring thing is someone on the AI panel raving about an initiative that makes no sense, with the AI doing the thinking for them. Not proprietary AI either. Tools pulling their information from the popular vote on Reddit.
One board in particular stands out. I walked in and the panel was raving about how they could build lessons with AI. The lessons didn’t make sense. The doctrine underneath them was garbage, and nobody in the room had the knowledge to notice.
If you don’t have the knowledge, you shouldn’t be doing the thing because AI taught it to you. A large share of the failures I see come from exactly that: people using AI to replace knowledge they never had. Build your procedures that way and two things happen. It won’t be replicable, and it’ll have no value to you, because you won’t understand why you’re doing it, you can’t explain it to anyone, and it turns into a tireless headache for everybody it touches. You can’t implement a system you have no idea how to sustain.
Nobody chooses the one size fits all recipe for anything in their life until they’re shopping as a consumer. Why hand your business to a one size fits all approach from a system that has never understood the intricate nature of your operation?
II. Adding an agent to a business that has no system
An AI agent has to operate inside a system. Plugging one in without one only accelerates your mistakes, because the AI surfaces them efficiently and then repeats them at speed. It was never a replacement for job knowledge and education. Build the system first, then put the machine inside it.
III. Writing for a human when a machine executes it
A page a person can follow and a page an agent can follow are not the same page. That’s why every procedure here is written once, in three forms, and we call it a Field Goal. We score a point for the human version, the short form the team actually reads. We score a point for the machine version, the long form the agent runs verbatim. We score a point for the video version, where the digital twin teaches it. Three points off one kick. A procedure that only scores one point isn’t finished. Write only the human version and your agents can’t run it. Write only the machine version and your team won’t read it.
IV. Not having guardrails
The rules deciding what an agent must never say and never do are themselves written and versioned as procedures in our house, so no quiet edit ever moves one. An unwritten rule is a rule that changes without anyone noticing.
V. Delegating what was never written down
This is the one I hear most on calls. The assistant enters the work wrong, nobody wrote the system down, and the rework lands back on the owner’s desk. That’s not a character flaw and it’s not a bad hire. It is a missing page.
One written procedure cut a client’s interviewing from well over 60 hours a week to roughly a tenth of that. The client operates in an industry where regulation makes improvisation expensive, and the owner was interviewing well over 60 hours a week to land one or two good candidates. A screening quiz was already in place; the wasted hours went to everything a quiz can’t ask. The procedure we wrote was built around exactly that qualification gap. The machine conducts every first-round interview and asks the follow-up questions a quiz can’t. It notices something mid-conversation, asks about it, and surfaces what a fixed set of questions would never reach. It also gets people comfortable. Candidates talk to the agent more openly than they talk to a person, because they relax thinking they’re just talking to AI and stop performing for an interview. It evaluates who passes, narrows the field to one, and the first human interaction any candidate has is the in-person meeting with every document already in place. Sixty-plus hours a week came back from one page of writing the machine executes.
What does an SOP need so your AI can actually run it?
The template below is the machine version — point two of the Field Goal. It is the one almost nobody writes, and it is the only one an agent can execute. A human fills the gaps in a vague instruction without noticing. An agent does not: it either has the information or it invents something. Every field here exists to remove a place where it could invent.
The human version of the same procedure is this one cut to what a person needs to be reminded of. The video version is the twin walking through it. Same procedure, three forms, one kick.
How do I keep my procedures from going stale?
Every prompt you reuse becomes one written procedure, and the pile stops growing, because a procedure is something you maintain instead of something you lose. It isn’t only the prompts either. The same move applies to the system around them.
If the pile itself is the problem right now, start with Those 50 open ChatGPT tabs won’t save you and come back here.
Maintenance never stops. A procedure is never finished. Ours get revised whenever something proves more efficient or a miss exposes a gap, and there’s always an adjustment to make. Every revision follows one principle: delete waste, increase efficiency. Nothing in the registry has been retired yet. Everything keeps getting sharpened.
I walked into a head coach’s office once, mid-season, and he already had next summer’s practice schedule finished. Eight months out, done, while everyone else was watching that week’s game.
His schedule doesn’t change much year to year. His philosophy around it does. He improves it, he enhances it, and he can only do that because it’s written down. Improving a process that exists is easy. Rebuilding one you never tracked isn’t. Written down, your attention goes to making it better instead of remembering what it was.
That’s the same reason we do the work now. We do it once so we don’t have to do it again.
When I began my career as an entrepreneur, I came in understanding that saving money is a risk. At 3 percent average inflation, a dollar becomes 74 cents in ten years, 55 cents in twenty, and 41 cents in thirty, and the basket of things I buy inflates faster than 3 percent. A dollar can’t sit.
“Today’s dollar has to earn interest, and not only earn interest: it has to go out and recruit other dollars to come back with it, that are also earning interest.”
Jon Jack, Founder, Overtime GO
Now look at your prompts the same way. A saved prompt is a dollar sitting still. It loses a little value every time the tools change and every week you can’t find it. A written procedure is the dollar that recruits. It runs the agents, trains the team, and spawns the procedure after it, because writing the first one shows you the next three. It isn’t only the dollar either. It’s the cost of that dollar, which is the cost of your labor standing in the middle of work a page could be doing. No agent in our house arrived with its 10 to 15 procedures. Every stack compounded from one.
The owner who writes one procedure this week isn’t doing paperwork. You’re becoming the owner whose business runs without you standing in the middle of it. Nobody starts organized. My first procedure was delivered to a waiter over a plate of steak.
Action Item: Open your saved prompts and pick the one you reuse most. Write it as a procedure: the steps in order, the way you run them when the task goes right. That page is your first SOP, and it will outlive every prompt in the pile. When you want the machine to write and run the rest with you, have Overtime GO build the system: System Check.
Next branch: This registry lives inside an operating system, and the piece before this one shows it: Those 50 open ChatGPT tabs won’t save you.
