Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to bits. I would still plant my apple tree. - Martin Luther (allegedly)
Note to C: Three times in my life I’ve started writing a diary. Three times I stopped after a single entry. It seems diaries are not meant for me.
Writing the occasional letter works though. So that’s what I’ll try to do. Maybe you’ll never read these words, or maybe we’ll actually read them together. Always know they were written in the context of the day though: ideas change, insights evolve.
And know that even if everything else shifts, my love for you won’t.
Created: Monday March 2, 2026
Last edit: Tuesday March 3, 2026
Letter to C. - March 2, 2026
Hej little hobbit,
This is a letter I won’t share with you today. It’s still for you though, as I need to get some sadness out so I can laugh with you cycling back from daycare. We can’t have one of the best parts of the day ruined by sad thoughts! Maybe one day we’ll read this together as a bit of history. We’ll make sure it's a sunny day :)
You’re a bit over two years old as I write this. Your world is small and direct: play, food, dog, daycare, the forest, your mom’s beautiful smile, upside down in my arms. Laughing. Confident. And you love your world. And I’m so grateful for that, because mine increasingly feels like a Star Trek mirror universe episode featuring airborne prions and comicbook villains.
None of my sadness is to do with you directly. It's all grand, at times distant, complexity. That said, it does touch directly as this complexity touches your future: we only have the one world.
Let’s start with low hanging fruit, the world. For most of my life humanity has known climate change is real. The IPCC was established in 1988. The science isn’t ambiguous. Our earth is warming and extreme weather is normalized. Locally this means our vegetable garden is now in drought every April, only for it to flood every July. Every year of the past three, more saplings in our woodland have died than survived. And yet even in Europe climate action is failing due to a combo of poor political will and oligarchical fuckery.
And now we’re expanding destruction to space with mega-constellations: masses of satellites entering space and reentering earth’s atmosphere some years later. The Fermi paradox comes to mind. It feels somewhat as if our civilization is failing basic tests of stewardship.
And then there’s our struggle to see each other as fellow humans.
Politics isn’t helping. Decades of polarization in the United States brought that country to a point where now both its xenophobic leadership and media openly flirt with authoritarianism. This week they set fire to the Middle-East. With the same pretense they could start one in Greenland by Friday. Israel is still committing genocide in Gaza. Somewhat closer to us Russia is waging a barbaric war against the people of Ukraine, destroying two countries to reclaim a past that no longer exists for a future that never will be. Further away China is empire building and projects power in ways that makes the global power balance shiver.
Across many European countries, right-wing identity politics are gaining ground. They’re powered by a combo of fear of unknown futures, resentment of others, and uneducated nationalism. It’s not just the existence of disagreement that frightens me but how much it’s utterly free of facts, of anything needed for a dialogue. Danish elections are coming up and some politicians openly say they don’t want to talk to certain voter groups.
How do we fix society when people comfortably retract into cultural pillars of “us normal people” and have great empathy for only those in their own group. How do I even talk with a person who considers every word I say to be those spoken by a forked tongue?
And then there is big tech.
In 2026 there’s a shockingly small number of companies shaping how we all think and argue about. Their reach is beyond that of nation states. And their words are not those of journalism or ethical writers. They’re algorithmic platforms amplifying extremes. Outrage machines with zero interest to push solutions or consensus. Or anything useful really.
The minor players, including journalistic outlets and many politicians, play within their bounds. They are reactive to what these platforms create. Even Europe, our union that should and 12yr old me did hopeful presentations on, isn’t capable of control. It doesn’t matter if your mom or me are on these platforms, as they shape decisions everywhere. Oligarchical fuckery.
So what now my little hobbit?
I’m not really sure how to answer. The world on March 2, 2026 is a dark one. It feels as if humanity is on a crossroad while blindfolded. It can go fairly well or really really bad. Usually looking back at perspectives from people in the past gives some hope. But to be honest, I don’t think the experiences of Hesiod or Rousseau give much solace here.
Maybe the answer is closer to home? I love your mom. I love you. You clearly love us. Living with the two of you makes me incredibly happy. We have good friends, the place we call home is a true Home. And as we recently established: bananananana is both a decent snack and an excellent word. Life’s fun when we stay on our island. And maybe, when it comes to our shared life, that’s what we should do. If anything, it reduces complexity ♥
There’s no sensible world where a two year old should ever hear anything of what I just wrote. But if you do ever read this I hope it helps to understand why many years ago I sometimes, even on fun days, seemed mentally tired or preoccupied. Maybe it’s best described as grieve for a world that could, should, be. A world you deserve and a world humanity needs.
Just a decade from now you’ll be twelve. My first memories of trying to figure out what makes humans tick are from that age. I hope by 2036 we’ve started on a more hopeful path. I hope by then climate policy is real and measurable. I hope those wars have ended. I hope people have selected more humane leaders and systems. And I hope our society is less cynical and more unified. I do believe it possible. Maybe this year we can plant some apple trees.
It’s now time for me to cycle to daycare. We’ll meet in half an hour! Writing this really helped bring a bit of clarity to my sadness. So I might write to you more often, as it turns out that when you’re not banging books on my laptop you’re an excellent listener.
Know that most people are good. They truly are. So make that your default. Be kind.
I will always love you.
-
addendum: it’s almost seven now. We had a marvelous time on this sunny spring day. First it took half an hour to find all your stuff and leave the building. Then we spend some time in the sandbox with two other kids. I talked with their parent about how dark the times are while the three of you joyfully poured buckets of sand on a table. I liked that.
Afterwards we had a snack and cycled home. Along the way your mom caught up and you were transferred to the other bike. Smiles all around. This afternoon we were on the island ♥