A day at Liseberg is really a day of waiting. Queues that curl around corners, virtual queues in the app, even lines for snacks. We all accept it because the reward is the ride itself.
When my turn came for a roller coaster, I strapped in without hesitation. No risk assessment, no checklist, no thought about steel inspections or worn bolts. I trusted that others had done the work: engineers, inspectors, the park itself. My only role was to let go and enjoy.
Watching V for Vendetta in 2025 is no longer like revisiting a dystopian fantasy. It's like watching the news, only with better dialogue.
I watched the film again last week after quite a while, and it got me thinking. When Alan Moore first published the graphic novel in the 1980s, it reflected the Thatcher era with its politics, social unrest, and the constant fear of nuclear war. He wrote about a society governed by fear, propaganda, and a regime that promised order at the price of freedom. When the film arrived in 2005, the world was preoccupied with terrorist threats, the Patriot Act, and surveillance. Back then, the story felt like a warning.
Everywhere I look, people are tearing into each other. Online, in politics, even in daily life. The loudest voices are the angriest ones. Every disagreement turns personal. It is not about ideas anymore. It is about crushing the other person. And I get it. Anger feels good. Throwing an insult feels like winning for a moment. But it never changes anything. It just makes the walls higher.
Swedish and European IT is caught in a paradox. We stand before the greatest infrastructure humanity has ever built. Oceans of compute, storage, and security. Platforms hardened by global investments. Built with resilience no single EU state could dream of and with protections no local provider can match.
And yet, in fear and misplaced pride, we drain the ocean.
Middle-earth never had hashtags, but it did have trolls. And compared to the ones lurking on your feed, cave trolls were a breeze.
Tolkien’s world wasn’t just swords, magic, and epic battles. It was about choices under pressure and the kind of person you become when the stakes are high. Same rules apply here, only the battle is fought on comment threads and DMs instead of Pelennor Fields.
I have been working in IT for over 25 years. I have seen trends come and go, from mainframes to cloud, from on-prem to “as-a-service”, from bash scripts to Kubernetes. Each time, the story was the same: this will change everything. And each time, after the noise settled, the same truth returned that if you did not understand what you were doing before, you still do not now.
I have been doing this a while now, security, infrastructure, cloud, almost the whole IT-world.
Some days I feel sharp and useful. Other days... I am just tired.
In an age where a few keystrokes can collapse entire systems, the line between innovation and security is no longer clear-cut. Modern organizations find themselves waging two parallel wars: one to stay ahead of technological advancements, and another to defend against an ever-evolving tide of cyber threats. At the center of these battles stand two distinct figures: the Chief Information Officer (CIO) and the Chief Information Security Officer (CISO). These roles, while critical, often seem at odds. The CIO, the visionary innovator, is focused on driving technology to new heights. The CISO, the vigilant protector, ensures these advancements are fortified against a spectrum of digital adversaries.
The friction between these roles raises fundamental questions about organizational strategy. Should the CIO and CISO remain separate entities, each managing their respective domains, or is it time to unify their responsibilities under a single leader? Moreover, are these roles, conceived in vastly different times, still relevant in today’s hyper-connected, high-risk world?
I am a procrastinator - sometimes more than I'd like to admit. But haven't we all been there? Whether it’s putting off that work project, delaying household chores, or avoiding a difficult conversation, procrastination is a universal human experience. Studies suggest that up to 20% of adults regularly postpone important tasks, and for students, that number can climb as high as 50%. But what's going on when we procrastinate? Let's dive into the psychological underpinnings of this common behaviour and explore how our habits intersect with societal influences.
From my point of view, a concerning trend has emerged within the IT and tech community, a visible decline in self-drive and initiative among newer IT professionals. In an industry defined by its constant evolution and rapid pace, I wonder: where has the hunger gone?
