Darkening sky

In the midst of passing thunderstorms, the sky turns almost completely black as I sit in the living room, trying to schedule thesis seminars for January 2026. Last night was absolutely awful – I seem to have picked up some kind of stomach bug, and William is also at home with a cold. So yes, it is clearly “vobb” season again. At least that probably explains why yesterday’s 10k rowing session at the gym felt so excruciating.

Usually not much for joggers, I spent my lunch on the sofa, reading a few pages in Nick Bostrom’s latest Deep Utopia: Life and Meaning in a Solved World. It was a reminder of how stimulating it can be to engage with people who really think, even if one does not always have to agree.

Before finishing this post, I should say something about what happened in Poland a couple of days ago. The more I think about it, the only plausible explanation for Russia’s actions is that it wanted the countries of Eastern Europe to hold back more of their air defence and other military resources at home – fearing further aggression – rather than sending them to Ukraine. The fact that no NATO bases, such as the one in Rzeszów, were struck (even though some drones apparently were heading in that direction) suggests that Russia’s aim was less to provoke direct conflict than to trick NATO states into diverting resources away from the actual ongoing war.

Fasted running

Though I normally prefer to down an espresso and a small bite before heading out, this morning I had to tiptoe around not to wake the kids. As such, I challenged myself with some metabolic flexibility training: running on low glycogen through fierce rain at 4:30 a.m., watching the forest come alive with frogs leaping in joy and deer everywhere.

A couple of weeks ago, The Guardian carried a wonderful story about a 97-year-old woman in Belfast who has just completed 250 Parkruns. While I have only logged eleven myself (at least with a proper barcode), her perseverance was simply inspiring. Now, as the train rolls towards Halmstad and the rain still pours down, I take comfort in the fact that I only have one lecture today – the last stretch of what has been a completely mad teaching sprint.

Playing with fire

Last night’s massive Russian drone incursion into Poland shows how willing Putin has become to take ever-greater risks in relation to the collective West—risks that are difficult to make sense of from a rationalist perspective alone. While one or two drones might plausibly have lost navigation, the scale of the incursion points unmistakably to a deliberate attempt to test NATO’s resolve.

Much like the way our headlong AI expansion risks bringing about a misaligned technological singularity, there is something profoundly unsettling in how Russia seems to treat even the end of human civilization as an insufficient deterrent. The contrast to the veranda here in Kåltorp – on what looks to be the last dry day for a while – could hardly be sharper, with looming macro processes so remote from anything I can say or do.

Arbeiderpartiet

In Norway, the governing red-green coalition seems to have survived the election even as the populist Fremskrittspartiet doubled in size and secured a frightening 24 percent of the vote – a situation not all that different from Sweden.

Leaving with the first SJ morning train, I find myself in the middle of a crazy week with two courses and a packed calendar of meetings. At least the trains here are running – which is more than one can say about northern Sweden, where flash floods have derailed trains and effectively cut the country in two. Right now, it is anyone’s guess when services will resume, but it may be several weeks before passenger trains can once again reach Umeå and the High North.

Colder nights

As the nights turn colder, leaves are beginning to gather in our garden, even as the days still offer summer warmth. Few things spell autumn more clearly than my signature risotto with chanterelles, guanciale, and Västerbotten cheese. With four days in Halmstad coming up next week and a need for food containers, any leftovers will also be more than welcome.

Before digging in, I just have to share the story of the politest seat-swap request I have ever heard aboard an airplane. Considering the countless hours I once spent standing with a baby carrier in the galley to avoid disturbing other passengers, I am deeply grateful that my days of flying with small children are firmly behind me.

Around the world

Going through their basement in Kalmar, my parents found a commemorative poster entitled “Around the world in 80 conferences” that I was given by my fellow PhD students and colleagues when graduating in December 2010. To my surprise, this is the first time that it has found its way onto the blog (despite this being my 3,000th post!). Fifteen years later, I still remember the warmth and appreciation that I felt that cold winter day.

Maintaining our weekend tradition of Saturday half marathons, Anna and I ran nine kilometres on asphalt followed by twelve on trails, before jumping into Delsjön for a refreshing swim. With most people still sleeping in, we had Kotången entirely to ourselves. On the topic of being naked, Göteborgsposten recently ran an intriguing series on how quickly norms are changing in Sweden, noting that few kids today even shower after physical education. The ubiquitous presence of smartphones and the import of puritan norms from the US may explain part of this shift, though there are surely other reasons as well.

Bastión de la Luna

Apparently, 18 months have passed since I last mentioned the Moon here on Rawls & Me so, with this busy week of teaching and travelling finally over, I felt like it deserved a post. Even if the Moon may hold the key to some of the sustainability challenges that we face, and I still have a lot of pent-up frustration after yesterday’s conference, I desperately need to turn a page.

And, hailing from Salnés, about 60 kilometres south of Santiago de Compostela, this lovely Albariño was precisely what I needed to do that. As discussed at length in Scruton’s “I Drink Therefore I Am”, wine does something to your thinking, smoothing the edges, and making you see the basic existential truth, what the old confession calls “confitemur partem nos habere in aversione mundi a te”: that we all have our share in the world’s turning away from God.

Långholmen

Before taking the train back to Gothenburg, I had hoped to fit in a long run in Stockholm – perhaps a half marathon around Djurgården – but with a Zoom meeting with my long-time Australian co-author already set for 8:15, I had to be realistic.

Instead, I settled for a 10k through the Old Town and Söder, pausing for a wild dip at Långholmen before heading over to the co-working space No 18 at the central station. To my surprise, it turned out to be free this month for all top-tier SJ Prio members. Talking with Jon was, as always, a delight, and I left our conversation feeling inspired for the autumn ahead.

Bio+

On my second day in Stockholm, I attended the Bio+ conference organized by the Swedish Energy Agency. Since our research project is funded through the Bio+ programme, showing up was expected, though I knew from the outset that survival required a very low profile.

My promise to remain silent – limiting myself to polite small talk – held for most of the day as I listened to visions of intensified forestry, shorter rotation cycles, and, in essence, the end of nature in the name of an ever-expanding “bioeconomy”. For an ecomodernist who dreams of rewilding and liberating nature, this demanded a fair measure of self-discipline, but I felt confident I would make it through.

That was until Maria Wolrath Söderberg took the stage to “shatter four myths” supposedly holding back the transition. Having seen first-hand the realities of global energy poverty, I could hardly stay still as she tangled herself up in climate guilt and the most unexamined forms of privilege. At that point, my silence cracked. I had to respond after her talk – though predictably, it did not land well. After ten minutes of awkward mingling, I called it a day and retreated to Nordic Wellness for some Frustpumpen, a much better outlet for my energy.

Train 400

Leaving on train 400, SJ’s non-stop express from Gothenburg to Stockholm at the ungodly hour of 05:19 yesterday morning, I had a full day at the Royal Technical College – learning about competing claims on biomass and electric arc furnaces – before winding down with a lager in Humlegården and an Asian-fusion dinner at Miss Voon.

This morning, I woke early for a 10k loop around Kungsholmen, bringing back memories of the 2019 Stockholm Marathon. Now at Fabrique with a strong coffee and Broder Daniel’s original Shoreline in the background, I am about to head over to Clarion Sign for the Bio+ conference.

Cunard commutes

Dressed in my merino socks with foxes, it is Monday morning and I am bound for Halmstad, the first real commute of the autumn semester. In just a few hours, I will be giving my opening lecture on research design to the third-year students preparing for their final theses later this term.

On the train beside me: a brand-new Cunard vacuum flask, filled with Lavazza americano, a deliberate protection against the lethal brew from the office machine. Perhaps not quite as exotic as during my Umeå years, but still a small luxury smuggled in from another world.