Special projects means the work the core team can't hold
Special projects is not a polite bin. It's the work the last-mile machine cannot hold without breaking the thing it's good at.
Two months in, people still ask what special projects means. They say it the way you say "other duties as assigned." A polite bin. A title for the person who doesn't have a real P&L.
That's not the job. Not here. Not if you're honest about how a 3PL actually runs.
I joined Ninja Van in April as Head of Special Projects, Cross-border, across six markets. The core machine is last mile. It's built to take a parcel that already exists in a country and get it to a door. Cross-border is the work that happens before that parcel is allowed to be ordinary. Customs. Linehaul. Handoffs that sit between an airline, a ground handler, a broker, and a station that was not designed around your SKU.
Special projects is the work the core team can't hold without breaking the thing they're good at.
The wrong reading of the title
The wrong question is whether special projects is "strategic." Strategic is a word people use when they don't want to say operationally inconvenient. The useful question is: what does the standard product drop on the floor?
Every operator company has a core loop. Pickup, sort, deliver, exception, repeat. That loop is a muscle. You want that muscle left alone. You do not want your best station managers rewriting their day because a brand in Singapore decided to launch into three countries with one commercial invoice template and a hope.
Someone has to hold that. Not as a slide. As a process that can be briefed, measured, and handed back when it's boring enough to be core. Until then it's special, which is a nicer word than "doesn't fit yet."
I've sat on the brand side of this. You send a 3PL a rate card and a launch date and you assume the inside of their network will re-shape around your exception. It won't. The inside of their network is busy being a network. Special projects is the admission of that fact, with a person attached to it.
What the pile actually looks like
It looks like a lane that is "live" on a commercial spreadsheet and not live in the building. It looks like a handover SOP that was written for one market and pasted into five others. It looks like a customer who is technically in the network and operationally in a group chat with five people who all think someone else owns the duty decision.
It looks like air cargo that arrived, sat, and then became a last-mile problem because the gap between the airline and the ground handler was never named as a step. It looks like packaging that was designed for a shelf and then billed like a balloon because nobody checked dimensional weight until the invoice did.
None of that is exotic. It's just work that doesn't have a home in the core product yet. If you force it into the core product too early, you don't get innovation. You get a worse last mile for everyone else.
That's the part outsiders miss. Special projects is as much protection as it is invention. You isolate the ugly so the machine can keep humming. Then you make the ugly less ugly until it can join the machine without cutting it.
Six markets makes the pile taller
Do this in one country and you have a project. Do this across Indonesia, Vietnam, Thailand, the Philippines, Malaysia, and Singapore, and you have six projects that people will try to manage as one. They will ask for a single tracker. They will ask for a regional SOP. They will ask why the on-time number isn't one number.
Because it isn't one operation. I keep saying that. I'll keep saying it. Special projects, in this seat, is partly the job of refusing the average. You can still have a company. You cannot have a fantasy that Jakarta and Manila share a process because they share a logo.
The proof is always in the handoff. The core team can hold a scan. They can hold a failed delivery loop they've seen ten thousand times. They cannot hold a customs personality they don't own, in a market they don't run, for a SKU they met last Tuesday. That's the pile. That's why the title exists.
If it already fit the core, it wouldn't need a name.
What I am not doing
I'm not building a shadow company. I'm not collecting a portfolio of side quests so I can look busy. I'm not going to publish a count of projects, or a win rate, or a before-and-after that I cannot stand behind.
I am doing the unglamorous thing. Write the process. Name the owner. Get a market honest before anyone copies it. Keep the core team from drowning in work that isn't theirs. Hand back whatever becomes boring.
If that sounds smaller than the title, good. Titles are for org charts. The work is for the exception pile. Two months in, that's still the definition that holds.
When someone asks what I do, I tell them I hold the lanes the last-mile machine wasn't built for, until they are. That's special projects. The rest is branding.