Consequential

It is always tempting to privilege the present, to think that we stand at a critical juncture in time. But after four years of the Tidö government, the election coming up in nine days is no ordinary one. If the Sweden Democrats were to enter government directly – and every vote for the Tidö parties is a vote for exactly that – Sweden would take a very dark turn indeed. From the dismantling of public service to outright ethno-nationalism, this is not an election about specific policies or how much money one gets to keep in the wallet, but a fundamental test of who we are (and aspire to be).

That does not mean that the choice is simple on every dimension. It would clearly be detrimental to our chances of reining in climate change if Sweden’s nuclear ambitions were replaced by an even greater reliance on gas-dependent renewables. But a misguided energy policy can be reversed, reactors can still be built, and technological development will continue elsewhere. Some political choices are more difficult to undo.

Perhaps that is why I found myself returning to Timothy Snyder’s On Tyranny. His book is a useful reminder that democratic institutions are neither automatic nor indestructible, and that defending them ultimately depends on the choices ordinary people make while those choices are still theirs to make. 

Cows, trees and flights

When growing up in Sweden in the 1980s, the dairy industry was very visible in otherwise non-commercial schools, indoctrinating kids into believing that consuming large amounts of cold cow’s milk was absolutely essential for their health. Despite the dubious scientific basis, the message was remarkably successful in presenting a particular commercial interest as neutral, almost self-evident, public-health advice.

Something similar seems to have happened in Swedish forest politics. It is surprising to what extent the forest-industrial complex has been able to cast itself as an apolitical force for environmental protection, rather than as an industry with obvious material interests in how forests are managed and used. Despite the increasing polarization of forest politics, the industry’s own vision of intensive forestry, continued harvesting and expanding biomass use is still routinely presented not as one contested political position among others, but as an almost natural contribution to the green transition. This was particularly striking today at the Bio+ conference in Stockholm, where several of the projects presented were funded directly by the forest industry.

Now at Pontus on my way back to Halmstad, I have picked up Lisa Röstlund’s Skogslandet: en granskning from 2022, which examines precisely some of these relationships between the forest industry, science, public authorities and politics. Röstlund approaches Swedish forestry from a clearly critical perspective, but the book seems particularly interesting for its attempt to understand how certain claims about forests and sustainability have acquired scientific and political authority. Given today’s conference, it feels like timely reading as I wait for my biofueled flight (yes, I am once again buying biofuels for my flights, more on that in another post) down to Halland.

Capital

Listening to today’s presentations at the Bio+ conference, a recurring theme has been the lack of venture capital and the corresponding need for public funding. While I am generally sympathetic to greater investments in energy R&D, it is worth considering that the lack of private capital may also be a function of basic physical realities, that there simply is no scalable business case for the proposed innovations.

To give a practical example, the reason that we do not see electric generators at every stationary gym bike is not that capitalism is short-sighted but that the 100–150 W generated from biking simply does not amount to enough power to make practical sense. Still, after today, I could easily see the PowerPoint slide:

"Our innovative circular bio-based human energy platform (HEP) unlocks previously untapped endogenous renewable energy resources while simultaneously delivering public-health co-benefits. The technology is mature, locally sourced, fossil-free and compatible with existing electricity infrastructure. The principal barrier to rapid scale-up is currently insufficient access to patient, risk-tolerant capital."

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.

Matlådemåndag

As forecast, this Monday brought rain and grey skies – in other words, perfect weather for returning to work after the holidays. By lunchtime, I had already scheduled dozens of meetings, prepared one more lecture, and realized just how much of a crunch the coming autumn will be.

Meanwhile, Roger Pielke published a fascinating new dashboard that allows you to calculate the magnitude of the decarbonization challenge for different countries. Extrapolating into the future, it becomes clear just how important assumptions about future energy use are. On the one hand, there is spontaneous decarbonization and continued improvements in energy efficiency; on the other, there are new uses for electricity, like AI, and potentially a growing need for things like air conditioning in a climate-changed world. Running the numbers for Sweden and assuming that these opposing trends cancel each other out, replacing all fossil primary energy would require the construction of eighteen new 1 GW nuclear power plants (or a whopping 15,748 3 MW wind turbines). To achieve this by 2050, emissions would have to fall by almost 17% per year, more than twice the highest observed rate of reduction during the nuclear build-out of the 1980s.

To help with the carbon math, I at least brought my own vegetarian lunch to work today: a recipe from Tuvessonskan for mushroom ragù with white wine, thyme, and lemon zest that I will definitely make again soon.

Nuclear news

After spending half the day at work, I returned home, changed into my Hoka singlet, and headed out to catch some sunshine in the hope of looking slightly less ghostly. Running 15 kilometres along the coast to Grötvik and back brought my weekly total to 50 kilometres, which I think is just about perfect with next week's race on the Bjäre Peninsula in mind. And few things beat celebrating that with an iced coffee and a cinnamon bun from our local Bärlin bakery.

Before heading out, I watched an SVT news report on the new nuclear reactors being built at Dukovany in the Czech Republic. Following the Korean nuclear industry's success in constructing the four reactors at Barakah in the United Arab Emirates, it is fantastic to see the state-backed Czech utility ČEZ moving ahead with an order for two more Korean reactors "off the shelf". As Barakah has demonstrated, standardization really is the key to bringing construction costs down.

Forty years later

Today marks forty years since that fateful night at reactor four of the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant, and what would become history’s worst nuclear accident. As the news media keeps recounting the events, a new report by the Anthropocene Institute brings much-needed perspective as it points out that the number of premature deaths would have been at least ten times higher had Chernobyl been a fully operational coal power plant. Though less spectacular, hundreds of thousands of people die every year from fine particulate pollution caused by the burning of fossil fuels, yet none of these deaths seem to inspire HBO documentaries or sustained public outrage. Having been to Pripyat myself back in 2016, I am not trying to trivialize the human tragedy but, given the urgency of climate change, irrational fear of nuclear energy may ultimately prove far more dangerous than radiation itself.

One-hundred-eighty-three billion

Instead of moving quickly to build publicly owned nuclear power and clearly articulating its importance for phasing out fossil fuels globally, the Swedish government continues to procrastinate. The latest example is the announcement of 183 billion SEK for a new geological repository for nuclear waste.

It is difficult not to react – not only to the sheer scale of the sum, but to what it represents: yet another instance of nuclear power being burdened by politically constructed costs and institutional inertia rather than technical realities.

There is a much simpler alternative: continued interim storage. In Sweden, this takes the form of water-filled pools where spent fuel is cooled and shielded. This is not a temporary fix in the sense of being inadequate. It is a robust and well-proven method that can function safely over very long time horizons. Crucially, it also provides something that geological disposal does not: time.

Time to develop better technological solutions.

The case for geological disposal rests on a familiar assumption: that spent nuclear fuel must be isolated deep underground for up to 100,000 years. At first glance, this sounds both reasonable and morally compelling. But it contains an obvious contradiction. The 100,000-year requirement assumes that civilization is stable enough to plan, fund, and execute a century-long engineering project – yet somehow too fragile to be trusted with monitoring a storage pool a few centuries from now. You cannot have it both ways.

Because spent nuclear fuel is not merely waste. It is also a resource. With advanced reactor designs and technologies such as transmutation, there is real potential to significantly reduce both the volume and long-term radiotoxicity of spent fuel – while generating large amounts of clean electricity in the process. To permanently seal this material deep underground therefore appears, at best, premature, and at worst, a deliberate decision to foreclose future options.

This raises a more fundamental question: why the urgency to make something irreversible?

A common argument concerns security – the risk of proliferation or nuclear terrorism. But the logic here does not hold up to scrutiny. Sweden's interim storage facilities are among the most monitored, regulated, and physically secured sites in the country, operating under constant oversight precisely because of their political sensitivity. If a proliferation risk exists anywhere, it is in the vast and loosely tracked global inventory of nuclear material – not in a Swedish facility that is under continuous scrutiny. The question is not whether interim storage can be made secure. It can. The question is whether geological disposal is actually more secure, over any realistic policy horizon. The answer is far from obvious.

What is really at stake is a deeply embedded idea that the problem must be solved once and for all, permanently and irreversibly. But perhaps that very idea is the problem.

Rather than committing hundreds of billions to a system designed never to be reopened, the priority should be on what actually matters in the near term: rapidly expanding nuclear power to displace fossil fuels, in Sweden and beyond.

Seen in that light, 183 billion SEK for a geological repository is not just a large cost.

It is a misallocation. An extraordinarily expensive one.

Reviewing

Being part of a new Routledge volume on ideology and environmental politics, we are currently doing rounds of internal peer review before the manuscript is sent out for external review. In my case, this means that I have read two chapters so far, one on eco-authoritarianism and another, more conceptual, for the introduction. Soon, I will receive a third chapter on eco-feminism, and with the train ride between Halmstad and Gothenburg being just one hour, I need every caffeine fix I can get to stay on top of it all.

At least yesterday was a blast, as I kicked off the thesis supervision process for the 12 + 3 theses I am supervising this semester. I remember back in Lund in the aughts, when supervising half that number was considered an unusually heavy load. With Halmstad University currently laying off staff, I fear this trend will only continue.

And as for worrying trends, I cannot help but note that Germany is now considering ramping up coal power to substitute for expensive gas in the wake of the Iran war. A week ago, the German Minister for Economic Affairs and Energy, Katherina Reiche, told an oil conference in Texas that the EU’s net-zero target should be relaxed. In that sense, the chickens may finally be coming home to roost with regard to the Energiewende. Rather than expressing any Schadenfreude, I can only hope that its supporters will be willing to draw the right conclusions from this.

Only way out

With an Emirates jet again passing overhead on its way to the Americas, I struggled to bring my weekly volume back above 70 kilometres for the first time since January. Eventually, though, I made it home through the mist, microwaved some leftovers, and sat down in front of the computer with a cup of Americano.

Looking ahead over the coming two weeks, the workload is simply insane and, as so many times before, I wonder how I will be able to finish everything in time. Yet, if the past is any guide, the only way out is through. So, with that in mind, I will finish this blog post and turn instead to a manuscript on the geopolitical dynamics of nuclear fuel supplies that I have promised to review.

Viksit Bharat

Back in 2023, Narendra Modi launched his vision for India in 2047 called “Viksit Bharat” (which translates as “Developed India”), a programme that would see India become a high-income country with universal access to healthcare, education, and housing. While the devil is obviously in the details, its general focus on women, young people, and ending caste discrimination seems laudable, and so does India’s ambitious goal of expanding nuclear energy to 100 GW by 2047 to replace fossil energy.

Still, the vision may also be used to legitimize a maddening expansion of highways (with 35,000 km planned!), sprawling wind and solar projects that risk worsening carbon lock-in, and Hindu nationalism – not to mention autocratization in the name of “reducing political polarization”.

Nevertheless, compared to Sweden’s current vision of locking up 13-year-olds in maximum-security prisons and deporting as many immigrants as possible, it is not really as if we are the ones to judge. And remembering how much New Delhi had changed between my visits in 2010 (above) and 2015, the effects of compounded economic growth are not to be underestimated.

Strategic mistake

After a morning of online meetings, I went over to Draken and Nordic Wellness for my first 10k of indoor rowing this month. Knowing that once I have done the remaining 40k I get to go to California is highly motivating – assuming that there will be any jet fuel left for the Lufthansa 747-8 in three weeks’ time.

Today, the International Energy Agency (IEA) agreed to release 400 million barrels of emergency crude, a third of the group’s total government stockpiles, to mitigate the supply shortage caused by the Iran war. There is a certain irony in the fact that, the day before, Ursula von der Leyen admitted that the decision to phase out nuclear energy was a “strategic mistake” and that being “completely dependent on expensive and volatile imports” of fossil fuels has created a particular vulnerability for Europe.

Were it not for the serious consequences for both human health and the global climate, one would be tempted to say, “told you so”. And while certainly welcome, acknowledging past mistakes is only the first step towards reversing course and realizing that it is precisely the EU-championed investments in renewable energy that are creating this fossil reliance and stubborn emissions (for those keeping score, German electricity emissions remain 15-20 times those of Sweden today as well). 

Glyptoteket

With the kids having barely been to Copenhagen before, I took it upon myself to brave the elements and lead them past the city’s most iconic sites, including the Little Mermaid – surrounded by ice – and the white plumes of biogenic hydrocarbons rising from Amagerværket. Still, after five kilometres of brisk winter walking, the mood was beginning to sour, and an escape was urgently needed. And what better refuge than the palm trees and Roman sculptures of the Glyptotek.

Meanwhile, in the real world, Ludvig Beckman has taken a stand against the inhumane deportation of teenagers in Sweden by resigning from the ethics council of the Swedish Migration Agency. At a time when too many choose silence, every act of resistance counts. Just as the regressive elements of Danish energy policy need to be called out (for those wondering, Denmark’s emissions on this winter day stand at 217 grams of CO₂ per kWh – roughly five times that of Sweden), so does the idea that racism can be defused simply by speaking the same language (as the Danish Social Democrats have long attempted). That road is ultimately toxic to democratic politics and the very ethos of liberal democracy.

The new high-speed trains

Since the late 1980s, Sweden has endlessly debated the construction of new high-speed rail lines. The discussion has waxed and waned over the decades, with successive governments promising bold action only to be worn down by institutional fatigue and indecision. With a population of ten million, the economic case has always been uncertain, and investments in high-speed rail only really make sense – if at all – when conceived as part of a broader strategy to free up capacity for freight and regional traffic on existing lines.

Unfortunately, I have for some time suspected that nuclear power has become the new high-speed trains. After making daring promises in the run-up to the 2022 election, the centre-right government has so far delivered little more than paperwork and an extremely costly financing framework which may – or may not – eventually result in a marginal addition of nuclear capacity on Väröhalvön, next to the existing Ringhals nuclear power plant. With a possible change of government this autumn, and the Swedish Green Party making it clear that they will not participate in a government that builds nuclear power, the prospects for new nuclear once again look deeply uncertain.

It would all be simply tragicomic were it not for the urgency of the climate crisis and the need to displace fossil fuels – something that, historically, only nuclear power (together with hydropower) has been capable of achieving at scale.

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.

Italian Brainrot

Tonight, I felt like doing something lighter, namely, indulging in a bit of Italian Brainrot. My idea? To create a character named Windetto Powerello Lockettino – a flamboyant advocate for wind power whose true mission is to "lock in" fossil fuels.

Alas, the concept ended up being just a little too counter-hegemonic to turn into a proper video. Still, I did manage to produce a picture of a dinosaur in an Italian chef's hat standing proudly in a forest of wind turbines. And as they say, sometimes a picture says more than a thousand words.

Geopolitically charged

At the city library the other day, I picked up the latest issue of Monocle, which featured a fascinating long-read on Beirut’s art scene and how it continues to flourish despite everything happening in the region. Thinking back on Ally’s and my trip in 2019, which ChatGPT described as one of my most “geopolitically charged”, the article echoed much of what I felt when visiting Nicolas Ibrahim Sursock Museum of Contemporary Art (which is still open as I write this) and other such places.

After an online seminar on conspiracy theories with my colleagues in Halmstad, I headed out into the rain and up to Delsjön for an ice-cold swim. Meanwhile, in Stockholm, the Swedish parliament has been debating the new law for financing nuclear construction, which is simply tragicomic, like some absurd play where the actors completely fail to see the bigger (global) picture and remain trapped in the same tired and incorrect assumptions (as if the four Korean APR-1400 reactors at Barakah had never been built etcetera). In the end, it all boils down to a basic choice: do we cling to the casino-style volatility of the current neoliberal electricity market, or do we step up and provide cheap, public baseload power for climate leadership and the wholesale electrification of society?

Energy density

One thing I often struggle to communicate in debates about renewable versus nuclear energy is the concept of energy density. Yesterday, at Tom Titt Experiment in Södertälje, I think I found the perfect illustration in the human-powered helicopter above.

Now, on the train back to Gothenburg, I am commenting on thesis drafts from my students, but I find myself distracted by the many moving tributes to Stina Oscarsson, one of the most important voices in the Swedish public debate, who went silent four days ago after a life-long struggle with anorexia. While I occasionally disagreed with some of the things she wrote or said, I always made time to read her texts when they appeared. I will dearly miss her perspective.

After the Cold

After spending a week resting and recovering from my cold, I finally got to go for a long run this morning, heading out to the airport in Kiruna just in time to see Zimex Aviation's ATR 42 touch down from Umeå with the mail.

Over the course of my run, the sun broke through the clouds, making me wish I had taken shorts and t-shirt rather than winter running gear. This year, the spring is unusually early in the Arctic, melting away glaciers that are already at record lows – all consistent with what we would expect in a changing climate. In today’s Dagens Nyheter, there is an article about covert climate activists working in different Swedish government agencies. Reading it, I am struck again by the tragic mismatch between individual moral conviction and the scale of action required to address the global, gigaton realities of climate change.

Abundance

Equipped with a half bottle of red wine from the hills near Carcassonne, I have just started reading Ezra Klein and Derek Thompson’s Abundance, a book that has sparked a lively debate after being published three weeks ago in the United States.

Opening with a truly ecomodernist vision of the future, one of rewilding and a world beyond scarcity, I find myself nodding along with much of what the authors are saying, even if some details seem to be more about coalition-building than internal consistency. In any case, I think the authors are correct in focusing a lot on housing and how unaffordable housing has become for many people due to zoning regulations, creating an ever-widening gap between market insiders and outsiders that directly fuels political resentment and cynicism. So far, I am surprised to see how little they seem to have to say about schools and other forms of social investments though, given how central they are to the task of achieving broadly shared economic growth.