Rusty

After not teaching for three months, it was with a fair bit of trepidation that I walked into room 308 to meet the fifty or so students waiting for me. Talking governance theory and the EU for four hours, it all went well in the end, but it still seems unbelievable that I once, as a PhD student in Lund, had a week with 36 hours in the classroom.

Otherwise, I started the day with a beach jog and some mural spotting in the neighbourhood before biking back and forth to work between the showers. Luckily, with my Transgrancanaria finisher jacket and Cunard thermos ready, I think I am reasonably well equipped for whatever autumn has in store.

Näsby

Back from our Österlen excursion, Linnéa and I made mushroom cannelloni with Västerbotten cheese, an instant new favourite for dinner. Afterwards, we played the feminist extension pack to “När då då” as night fell early and a long summer slowly drew to an end.

Before returning to Halmstad, I got to run ten kilometres along the shores of Araslövssjön, through quiet birch forests and open grasslands. Linnéa also gave me the full Kristianstad city tour, including a visit to Sweden’s lowest point and the iconic Conditori Duvander for coffee.

Now on the train back to Halland, reality will begin in less than 24 hours with two new classes tomorrow. And already on Tuesday, I will be on a high-speed train to Stockholm for the Bio+ conference.

Drakamöllan

Driving south along Road 19 towards Österlen today, Linnéa and I stopped for a hike around Drakamöllan, with its sweeping grasslands, sandy steppes, and Icelandic horses grazing beneath cloudy late-summer skies.

Over ten kilometres and 250 metres of elevation gain, the landscape kept opening and folding around us, a world away from the flat plains closer to Kristianstad. With the heath glowing purple, patches of beech forest appearing in the folds of the hills, and clouds racing overhead, one could almost imagine being transported to the heather-clad moors of Scotland. Every now and then, the sun broke through, lighting up the grasslands before disappearing again behind the clouds.

After picking blackberries along the way, we continued down to Rigeleje, where the beach had been left entirely to itself now that the summer tourists were gone. Under a darkening sky, with waves rolling in from Hanöbukten and nobody else around, there was an immediate sense of freedom.

Atlântimor

A name, a label, and the promise of salty Atlantic winds coming ashore. Clearly, wine decisions are rarely rational, but in this case, I backed mine up with a few gold medals and recommendations.

Passing through Lund earlier today, one could feel that the semester is just around the corner, with students everywhere. I cannot say that I am entirely envious of them, starting their studies at a time when artificial intelligence is reshaping so many certainties. On the train, I revisited my 2013 paper Ambivalence, Irony and Democracy in the Anthropocene, which has remained one of my most cited publications. In it, I explored what I saw as a basic dilemma of modernity: either we find technological ways of transcending ecological limits, or we accept those limits and somehow create the political institutions necessary to enforce them on a global scale.

Neither path looked particularly plausible. Radical technological modernization required a Promethean faith in human ingenuity that many environmentalists rejected, while comprehensive degrowth would demand levels of political coordination and personal restraint that few people appeared prepare to accept. For all the rhetorical appeal of “sufficiency”, its advocates rarely seemed to see any contradiction in expecting rising retirement incomes, ever more advanced medicine, and ever more elaborate forms of inconspicuous consumption in their own lives. My conclusion was therefore deliberately ambivalent: neither radical modernization nor comprehensive degrowth seemed politically within reach.

Reading the paper now, it is striking how much I treated advanced machine intelligence as belonging to the realm of science fiction. Today, we know better. In one sense, AI gives the anti-modern intuition perhaps its strongest possible case: maybe there really are doors that humanity should never open. Yet actually keeping those doors locked would itself require unprecedented global coordination over technological development, probably indefinitely. The more powerful the technology becomes, the more compelling the argument for restraint may become – and the less plausible it seems that such restraint could ever be universally enforced. 

Codice fiscale

Back in June, I attended a workshop at the Scuola Superiore Meridionale in Naples, which was absolutely fantastic. The process of getting reimbursed for my travel expenses has turned out to be slightly less fantastic, but now I have at least figured out that I need to apply for an Italian tax identification number (or codice fiscale) at the embassy in Stockholm. Sometimes you hear Swedish people complaining about how bureaucratic things are in Sweden, but my many years abroad have convinced me otherwise (at least as long as one is an “insider” with BankID etcetera).

Looking at the ten-day forecast for Halmstad, it is apparently going to rain every single day, so I decided to wrap up the pool season at Brottet with another thousand metres in the blue.

Early voting

Waking with the first light, I ran out to Tylösand, where the sea was perfectly calm, with only an Emirates A380-800 passing overhead on its way to Los Angeles. Running back into the sun on soft trails, I felt immensely privileged to be able to start a day like this and, with every kilometre, I picked up speed, feeling stronger and stronger. It was pretty much the opposite of how I felt two weeks ago, when I pushed myself way too hard on the same route.

After a few meetings at work, including one about the new course on AI and public administration that we are developing, I went down to City Hall to cast my vote in the 2026 general election, as I will be in Prague with Sofi on 13 September. Answering the questions in SVT's election compass, I was surprised by how strongly I matched with Centerpartiet, considering that the party is almost the opposite of where I stand on several issues, including urbanization and environmental policy. 

It should come as no surprise to readers of this blog that I voted left, despite how much I dislike the repressive turn that the Social Democrats have taken.

400 weeks

Every week for the last four hundred weeks, I have uploaded an activity to Strava, be it a run, a hike or a swim. Some weeks, including when I was down with Covid, I nearly broke my streak but, in the end, I kept going, which felt like something worth celebrating with a smoothie (more of a milkshake, to tell the truth) once I got out of the pool.

Late-summer days: learning how public radio is made over breakfast, having my annual performance review (luckily, my manager seems happy with the work I am doing) and a couple of other meetings before lunch, and then gradually drifting into article writing as the afternoon wears on, interrupted only by that swim. Tough life, I know.

In the real world: drones and military explosives near Leipzig Airport, the bond market signalling that $40 trillion in US debt, mounting interest costs and yet more spending on illegal wars might just be a bit too much even for America, and another deadly act of racist violence being reduced to individual psychological problems here in Sweden. Tomorrow, I am at least going to vote to micro-push reality away from cheap gasoline and venture capitalism hollowing out our welfare systems, even as a truly progressive global agenda appears as distant as ever (but for those, tune in to the recent P1 Kultur on visionary futures).

Kungsbacka

As expected, the early morning departure was brutal, but that did not really matter once I got to see William again, ten days after our grand day out in Gothenburg. Taking the train to Kungsbacka together, I got an update on his first week back at school, including a swimming proficiency test in Härlanda Tjärn, which he unsurprisingly passed with flying colours. And in no time at all, we were at the day’s unlikely chess tournament venue: a Peugeot dealership in Inlag.

Walking onto the site, I spotted a fully electric horse truck ingeniously branded “Plug and Ride”, reminding me again how politically effective it would be to brand electric vehicles as 100% nuclear powered – shifting the discourse around nuclear power from last resort to first choice.

As for the chess, William won three and drew one of his five rounds, ultimately finishing fourth and gaining another 20 Elo rating points, all while a heavy thunderstorm passed overhead. Luckily, the sky cleared once again, so by the time I got down to Halmstad, I had forgotten all about yesterday’s rest-day promise and headed out for five sunset kilometres along the coast.

Post-pancake

For this week’s long run, I decided to head up to the forests around Skedala and its three lakes. Located halfway between Halmstad and Simlångsdalen, the area was recommended to me by my colleague Ulf during my very first week at work in 2023, advice that I have happily heeded ever since. Without a car, though, it gets a bit trickier to explore unless you are prepared for a really long run, so in the future I might take bus 318 (in one direction, at least). For those driving, the whole area is very accessible – perhaps a little too accessible for me to dare a swim, tempting as the lakes looked.

Today’s run also brought my total above 2,000 kilometres so far in 2026 and left me right on pace for an average of 60 kilometres per week. I feel that this lower volume compared with previous years is doing me good. With my train leaving at 6:01 a.m. tomorrow for chess with William in Kungsbacka, I will get a natural rest day and, rather than panicking about it, I think taking more days off is making me come back stronger.

Sellpy, the sequel

Having had reasonable success selling things on Sellpy, I recently gave in to the temptation to buy something again, more specifically a corduroy jacket from Tiger for 335 SEK. Sadly, it turned out to be a little too boxy (not really visible in the picture above), so I have decided to return it, true to my new maxim of not keeping a single item in my wardrobe that I do not actively use. But the picture at least gave me a chance to show off the beautiful tinted windows here at Hallandsgatan, windows that have somehow helped soften some of the sadness I have felt since moving in last autumn.

Pouring myself a glass of Chilean Pinot Noir, I take some comfort in having completed a full airport loop earlier today and knowing that I will run another 25 kilometres tomorrow. More importantly, I am not condemned to Île du Diable like some latter-day Henri Charrière, but free to make the best of things – even if that may indeed include a bit of Îles du Salut.

Exotic redemptions

On its way from Copenhagen to Addis Ababa, Ethiopian Airlines flight ET725 makes a technical stop in Vienna, creating an exotic opportunity to travel for points between Denmark and Austria on a wide-body aircraft. Despite seeing two available seats, I think reason has prevailed for now, and instead I am exploring different Pågatåg options across Skåne before finally making it to Helsingborg.

Working on my article on the political economy of biogenic hydrocarbons, I am once again reminded of the enormous uncertainty surrounding all these long-term projections of the future, given how rapidly artificial intelligence is evolving and its potentially dramatic implications for the cost of machine labour. That is assuming, of course, that the future will be anything at all like the present. Just the other week, 1,367 researchers and engineers at OpenAI, Anthropic, and Google DeepMind signed another open letter warning about the risks associated with increasingly automated AI development. As before, the problem remains one of global coordination and broader catch-up as open-source AI models become ever more potent as well.

Reverse centaurs

Almost a year after our beer at Savoy, Gabriel and I got to meet up for lunch in Malmö today. Having grown up together in Kalmar, Gabriel has been a recurring character on the pages of Rawls & Me, with shared adventures stretching from Serbia to Sävar, but today we just got to hang out for a bit in Folkets Park.

Among the many things we covered, Gabriel brought up Cory Doctorow’s work on “reverse centaurs”: situations where machine intelligence does the directing while the human provides a cheap, disposable physical body to execute tasks, i.e. the exact opposite of what the AI revolution originally promised it would do. Like the suggestion that AI stands for “African Intelligence” (as its abilities depend on the underpaid work of millions in digital sweatshops across Africa), such concepts definitely have analytical purchase, even if their implications for the future remain ambiguous.

As much as I have spent the last 20+ years arguing for the democratic steering of technology, I am afraid that my personal response to AI embodies a certain degree of fatalism, a bit like Too-ticky in Moominland Midwinter: “All things are so very uncertain, and that’s exactly what makes me feel reassured”.

Outdoor office

While waiting to have lunch with Gabriel in Malmö, I walked down Friisgatan only to discover an “outdoor office” of sorts, a place where one can sit down without having to buy something. Small acts of resistance.

Low pressure

After a dry summer in Europe, the familiar Atlantic low-pressure systems have returned, bringing desperately needed rain to the British Isles and thoroughly soaking Eddie and me on the way to the station this morning. After sending him off to school in Gothenburg, I returned home and went for a rainbow run along Västra stranden.

And while I got caught in another shower, the views across Laholmsbukten definitely made up for it. Now on a train to Malmö, I am looking out over the stormy sea, pondering whether I should get off in Helsingborg for some more coastal air and a coffee. Having invested in a monthly ticket with Skånetrafiken (which, at 50% off, is one of the few really good things the current government has done), I suddenly have a lot of freedom when it comes to travelling around southern Sweden.

Otherwise, Eddie and I had a great evening yesterday, watching Erik Sandberg's Lönesänkarna to give him some historical background for his school assignment. Though short, I am still very happy that we get to have these moments together, even as a more permanent arrangement remains to be worked out.

Heidelbeeren

SD-Kuriren landed in my mailbox this morning. With no return envelope provided, I suppose I will have to fold it into a paper plane and send it back to the 1930s myself. As for more uplifting journeys through space and time, I found a small package of Darbo blueberry marmalade for my bakery roll, making it feel like I was back in Austria for a moment.

 

After pushing my luck to the limit with electric scooters over the summer, today marked my return to biking to work. Unfortunately, I forgot my helmet, but I will try to remember it next time.

Staff days

Today and tomorrow, we are having staff days. Unlike in 2023, when we got to stay overnight at Hotel Riviera in Båstad, this time we have remained in Halmstad and in our usual building. The day was nevertheless very rewarding, with plenty of food for thought and some important decisions made about the upcoming semester.

Starting the day with a run to Jansa Brygga and some fresh bread rolls from Bärlin, and ending it with a glass of wine at Mårtenssons, I am happy that Eddie is at least coming down to Halmstad tomorrow and bringing some responsibility back into my life. Already on Thursday, however, I am heading down to Malmö to see Gabriel for lunch, something that is well overdue.

Pixels

For the past few months, images on Rawls & Me have been rendering somewhat strangely, showing blurry, pixelated versions instead of the high-resolution photos originally intended. Luckily, with the help of OpenAI, I was able to fix the problem with a little JavaScript earlier today, so everything should look great again.

Otherwise, I have spent most of the day in Teams meetings, including an interview as part of an assessment of teaching expertise at Mid Sweden University. After running two half marathons this weekend, I decided to take a recovery day from running and just swing by the gym for a bit of strength training. Now back home, I have microwaved yesterday's leftovers and opened a small can of red wine from Catalonia to celebrate having submitted my fifth pedagogical portfolio assessment.

The Great Steppe

Of all the travels I dream of one day doing, Central Asia remains high on my list. From Samarkand to hikes in the mountains of Kyrgyzstan, adventures beckon. As such, I was thrilled to read – yes, in the same Vagabond – about two young Swedes travelling overland on trains from Sweden to Bangkok (well, almost: they had to take a short flight from Georgia to Uzbekistan). In discussing what they would like to have done differently, they say that perhaps they should have waited for international relations to calm down so that they could have travelled across Russia or Iran.

Reading this somehow made me both sad and hopeful at the same time. After all, this is a generation that has grown up with international relations deteriorating and conflicts intensifying everywhere from the Middle East to Ukraine, and for whom the formative events of my own generation, like 9/11, must appear just as distant as the Vietnam War did for me. Indeed, looking through the list of students starting their studies now in September, the majority were born in 2006 or 2007. And yet, there was something profoundly hopeful in the casual assumption that the world might calm down again, that closed borders might reopen, and that the Great Steppe could once more be crossed rather than flown over.

Two halves

In the end, Eddie decided to stay in Gothenburg with his girlfriend over the weekend, leaving me with a bit of time to catch up on work and running. With Malmö Marathon only seven weeks away, I thought that running two half marathons on consecutive days, while focusing on keeping my heart rate down (137 and 133 bpm on average, respectively), would be a good way to build some aerobic volume. By running half the distance on asphalt, I also hoped to get some practice on harder surfaces, much as I prefer running on trails.

Coming out to Tylösand, the weather was all wind and grey skies, with big waves rolling in and a sense of summer drawing to an end. On the way back, there was a bit of rain too and, passing the surfers at Sandhamn, the melancholy in the air was palpable. But a few hours into the afternoon, the sky has cleared again, so perhaps I should take a break from work and go for a walk into the city centre.

Members Truck

To presumably soften the blow of the recent 100 SEK per month price hike, American Express is currently touring the country with a silvery truck, giving out pastries and chances to win Michelin-starred dining experiences.

Seeing that the truck was in Helsingborg today, I got off my absolutely jam-packed Öresund train to pick up a bag. Sadly, I did not win anything Michelin-starred, but I did get a baked treat by Roy Fares (yes, the cousin of Josef Fares), which made for a perfect “calorie offset” after my half marathon around Tylösand.

Spanish Roadstead

For all my global travels, there are still all these white spots on the map: tracts that one has only ever passed through on the major roads, hinterlands one has somehow missed. Taking the train to Kristianstad yesterday, I got to experience both the deeply wooded lake country around Immeln and what Linnéa very fittingly described as Sweden's Louisiana: the watery landscape of the lower Helge å, where the river dissolves into wetlands, flooded meadows, and reed beds on its way towards Hanöbukten. Once there, the name “Spanska Redden” on the map immediately stuck with me as a promise of future adventures. Otherwise, the obvious six-letter clue for the Vagabond reading crowd would be “creole”.

Now on the train back to Halmstad, I hope to end this week with a few more long runs in Halland and plenty of coastal sunshine before a week that I will spend mostly indoors in different conference rooms.

Eclipse

Taking a high-speed train into the solar eclipse, I can look back on an incredible day with William in Gothenburg. Kicking things off with an hour at the gym, William challenged me to do as many chin-ups as possible. In the end, I managed 20 in one go while William did 17, but I have no doubt that he will surpass me within a few months, if not weeks.

From Järntorget, we headed over to Vapiano for lunch, followed by a swim at Pöl Harbor, which certainly reminded me how soft the heated waters of Brottet have made me. It is funny to think that many public swimming pools in Sweden originally had water temperatures of around 21 degrees when first constructed, something that many people would probably find unacceptable today. After a few refreshing laps and a visit to the sauna (all publicly available for free!), we hiked up to Keillers Park along a walkway constructed during the 1930s as part of a relief work programme.

Having had enough UV for one day, we then sought refuge at the library, where William pulled off a stunt by pretending to put his phone in my bag while in reality sneaking off to find a corner where he could play chess online. None the wiser, I was certain that he had found a good book, so I spent a couple of hours reading the latest issues of Monocle and browsing the poetry stacks before getting slightly nervous as the departure time of my train approached. Texting him, I discovered what he was up to but, obviously, I did not have the heart to be angry with him. Dropping him off at the summer chess tournament, where Anna will pick him up later, I was once again reminded that I have the best kiddos in the world.