What’s this post? As some of you have now come to anticipate – every year I publish a birthday reflection post. I hope you’ll enjoy these thoughts and take them for what they are – an attempt to share the world as I see it and how I relate to it. It’s a mixture of observations, musings, reflections, and advice. They’re extremely long and by all rights if I just broke them up into individual posts, I’d have more than my usual 3 blog posts a year. But, this is the approach I’m sticking with and which actually gets pen-to-paper. Skip around, jump to what looks interesting, or take it from cover-to-cover. Your call =)

You can view my 40th birthday post here, 39th birthday post here, 38th birthday post here, 37th birthday post here, 36th birthday post here, 35th birthday post here, 34th birthday post here, 33rd birthday post here, 32nd birthday post here, 31st birthday post here, my more detailed 30th birthday post here, my musings on turning 29 here, or 28 here. As well as a long-forgotten blog post written on my 23rd birthday (wow, have I really been blogging that long?) which you can view here.

You can also find my interview with Beth Buelow on the Pixels: Exploring the Heart and Art of Photography series here – please do give it a watch and thumbs up:

Topics in this post:

Note: This post is LONG *as they always are*. At a hair under 14,000 words it is an extensive read. If you want a more approachable way – open it in Edge, right click over this text and click “Read Aloud”.

• The Top 6,000 – Not All Wins Look the Same
• The Many Ways of Seeing and Thinking
• My Latest Experiments in AI
• The Glass
• Hypnotherapy? Why not.
• Brandolini’s Law
• The Screw-on Cap Epiphany
• Book #2 Update – Notes on Self Publishing
• Is there a path to re-integration?
• Iceland – There is Beauty in the Challenge
• China and Taiwan – Interesting Contrasts
• Final Thoughts

The Top 6,000 – Not All Wins Look the Same

There are victories, and then there are victories. Of course, to take top prize is always the best. Sure, 2nd, or 3rd can also be fantastic. Even top 10. But, to be proud and delighted to have placed in the top 6,000? Whew. Now that seems like a bit of a stretch. And yet, I absolutely am.

Most photo contests are deeply disappointing. The standards are sloppy, the entries that go through a disappointing reflection of disinterested or disingenuous judging. And yet, there are a few diamonds in the ruff that still stand out. Of course, National Geographic remains a favorite, and my Honorable Mention some years ago remains one of my proudest photographic achievements. The Natural Landscape Photography Awards also remain world class, as does the California Academy of Sciences Big Picture contest. There are a few others, but of all the world’s photo contests one of the most prestigious, competitive, and respectable is the British Natural History Museum’s Wildlife Photographer of the Year competition. The winners not only have their work recognized and displayed in London’s NHM, but other Natural History Museums around the world – including here in Copenhagen.

Last year the contest received more than 60,000 entries. From those 60,000 entries roughly 6,000 advance to the RAW verification stage, and from there a final 100 are selected before the final winners are crowned.

Now…I’m not a Wildlife Photographer. I do periodically photograph wildlife, but I am not a wildlife photographer. And, you’d be fair to say – so what, does it really mater? In a word? Yes.

Photography is often viewed as one uniform pastime. The assumption, understandably, is that if someone is talented or spends time perfecting one genre – they’re perfecting “Photography” as a whole. If we use Dance as a parallel, the common assumption is different types of photography are comparable to different styles of Salsa dancing. A slight change in nuances, but not dramatically different. In practice though? It’s wildly different and much more akin to entirely different genres of dance. If Salsa is your Sport photography, Tango is your Bird photography, the Waltz your Landscape photography, Hip-Hop as Street photography, and Ballet as Fashion photography.

Many talented dancers learn multiple genres and can combine them. In fact, the combination and mastery of different genres only serves to improve your ability in each. But, the venues are different, the equipment is different, the music and pacing is different. All photographers have cameras. All dancers have shoes. But even from there, those shoes are tailored to the dance.

With photography this also holds true. Certain cameras and lens combinations are much better tailored to sport than nature. Portrait than architecture. This is especially true between wildlife – which tends to move quickly and often is far away, and Landscapes which are….well….famously slow moving. Even more than that, the settings – both in the camera, as well as the destinations – also vary enormously. From composition to editing, each step of the process is distinctly different.

One of the things I love about photography is just this. Even if you spend three decades perfecting one of the genres and have a huge body of knowledge, each new genre of photography humbles you and reverts you to an ill-equipped novice.

As an aside, this difference is one of the reasons I do not photograph weddings. It’s also why if friends reach out asking for help with a project – sometimes I will attempt to assist, but just as often I will attempt to refer you onward. Not because I’m dodging you, or don’t want to help. But, quite precisely for the opposite reason. The last thing you need is the photographic equivalent of a pole dancer, trying to teach Sunday school how to waltz. Or, who knows. Maybe that’s just what you need.

Regardless, all of that is to say – I stand in awe of the talent, the incredible rarity, and spectacular beauty in the annual finalists for the Natural History Museum contest. A photo like Qingrong Yang’s Synchronized Fishing is absolutely masterful at every level. One other factor when considering submitting to these contests is that not only does a photo need to be excellent technically, it also has to be irregular compositionally.

Each year when the contest comes up, I pause and reflect on the images I’ve made over the past year. Scratch my head, and typically stick to the other contests. But, this year I had something special. A photo that is, to the best of my experience, quite unique. That photo? An image of the heron in Copenhagen harbor, at night, beneath the aurora.

So, I opted to submit and I’m glad I did.

With more than 60,000 world class images submitted, to make it through to the verification round both confirmed my hunch that the photo was indeed quite irregular and simultaneously delighted me. It’s like walking onto the field at the Superbowl and getting the chance to warm the bench. Sure, you don’t take the field, but you’re close, you’re there, and it tells you it’s possible – and that feeling? That’s a huge win and one I’m fantastically happy with.

The Many Ways of Seeing and Thinking

Perception is something that constantly fascinates me. In the last couple of years you’ve perhaps come across conversations about how some people have an inner voice while others do not. That, in and of itself, is an exciting epiphany for most of us and one that I love to use as a thought experiment when trying to make sense of other people’s behavior. But, it also goes so much deeper than just that. So, here’s a bit I’m playing with these days.

There was a great podcast conversation I heard this year that caught me off guard. In it, Kevin Rose shares a bit about Aphantasia – which is to say he does not have a “mind’s eye” and cannot visualize scenes, objects, or faces. Aphantasia in and of itself is a fascinating insight into the wide range of human thought, similar to the conversations about inner voices. But, he also made an interesting observation about counting sheep. Now, as a visual spatial person with an inner voice, I’ve always assumed we all counted sheep in the same way – that’s to say, visualizing one sheep after another jumping over something. Culturally, this is usually how it’s shown in children’s programs etc. and it’s what I mirror when I close my eyes. But, Kevin mentions that in addition to that not being possible for some people, he also mentions others who have a totally different experience and just visualize a flock of sheep and then count the individual sheep.

More often than not, the part that I think makes understanding different ways of thinking and experiencing/perceiving reality so difficult is that it is very abstract and difficult to move beyond our own perception and way of thinking and/or to be able to have the words to describe how we experience, see, think, and engage with the world. Does a fish perceive water the same way we perceive air? Entirely differently? Like we do? In some other way we don’t even have language for?

It’s a fun one. And the more you slice and dice human experience and perception the more you realize just how varied key aspects of our experiences are. Take color perception as another. We now have visual exercises that can help to identify types of color blindness using contrast. But, outside of identifying that the existence is there, it does little to help us understand and digest the experience of vibrancy. In stark contrast you have the 1% or so of women who have tetrachromacy – the ability to see perhaps as many as 100,000,000 colors compared to the average person’s 1,000,000. Just imagine the silent impact this spectrum of different experiences has on art, food, design, fashion – all of it. As a photographer, over the years I’ve noticed I’m a bit more sensitive to yellow than many of my peers. This serves as a constant reminder that the art i create and how it is experienced by my audience are two related, but not fully aligned things.

Then, of course, you have the dimension memory plays in perception. At any moment in time, where are we in our experience? Are we loosely or tightly connected to all past memories? Is recall of a memory a vague association, a vivid moment relived, or something inbetween? I always think back to a conversation I had with a fellow student in college who had a photographic memory. “That must be brilliant” I said. At which point he took the time to correct me that it was torture. Every time someone was wrong, every time someone repeated themselves, every injury, every moment back through time. A gift…in some ways, and torture in others.

The above is useful, but it’s also mostly a set of novelties. So, why include it here? Because the above are thought exercises that pave the way to thinking about a broader collection of ways of processing the world around us. Both as a tool to better understand ourselves and how we experience the world, but also to open our eyes to just how different others ways of experiencing and navigating the world may be. There are a LOT of different ways to bake a cake – but here’s a nice overview of two semi-over lapping recipes I had Gemini surface:

Of course, we likely have a mixture of these traits which further shapes our experience. But, at the same time, other aspects are fundamental pieces of our core firmware. It’s quite literally how we perceive and experience the world.

Musing on this led me down an interesting rabbit hole and using Gemini Pro with Deep Research mode on, I’ve had quite a useful sparring session. Out of that, I’ve had it generate the following prompt. If you’re curious, you should be able to feed it in, feed it information, and have it prompt you to help you figure out how you experience and see the world.

The prompt – Paste the following into Gemini or a similar tool with the Thinking mode or Deep Research mode enabled:

Master Prompt: Discovering Your Cognitive Architecture
Act as an expert in neurocognitive diversity and cognitive psychology. Your goal is to help me map the ‘operating system’ of my mind. Conduct a guided interview to identify my unique
Cognitive Architecture by asking me about the following dimensions:
Inner Modalities: Do I experience an internal monologue (inner speaking), inner hearing, mental imagery, or ‘unsymbolized thinking’ (knowing a thought clearly without words or pictures)?
Visual Processing: When I imagine an object, is it a high-definition, colorful ‘movie,’ or a structural ‘blueprint’ (lineart/coordinates)? How do I remember information on a page—by the look of the words or their location in space?
Memory & Time Travel: Do I ‘re-live’ my past as a first-person sensory experience (Episodic Memory), or do I ‘re-construct’ my history as a database of facts and spatial markers (Semantic/SDAM-leaning)?
Simulation & Strategy: How do I plan for the future? Do I follow a single linear story, or do I use ‘prospective branching’ to simulate multiple parallel outcomes and ‘if-then’ states?
Social & Empathic Style: In social interactions, do I prioritize ‘affective sharing’ (feeling what others feel) or ‘cognitive mapping’ (understanding the underlying drivers and ‘firmware’ of someone’s behavior)?
Behavioral Signatures: What are my patterns around task completion (e.g., the ‘80% rule’ vs. perfectionism), navigation (landmarks vs. mental compass), and aesthetic reactions to complex or discordant patterns?
Please ask me these questions one at a time or in small batches. Once I have provided enough data, synthesize my responses into a tailored Integrated Cognitive Profile that explains how I perceive reality, memory, and hypothetical situations.

What about me?

Let me preface this by saying that it is about as scientific as any pop-science internet test. That it is based on the limited information I’ve fed it, which also reflects gaps in what I’ve shared, what I understand, or my own potential insecurities. Never the less, I find it quite fun as a lens to explore certain strengths, weaknesses, and challenges. It is a tool that I don’t see as something that defines me, but rather, a bit of added insight that helps me better explore “me”. All of that said, always be very careful when engaging with AI’s for these types of things. They’re not trained professionals, and can mislead you to entirely wrong conclusions just as easily as they can be insightful. Think of them like GPS. Follow the GPS blindly, and you drive into the harbor and end up with fish in your beard.

“Your cognitive profile is a highly specialized variant of the “Systems Architect” phenotype. You operate as a Modular Systems Narrator: a rare combination of high verbal narration and precise spatial logic, optimized for identifying underlying “firmware” rather than surface-level sensory data.”

Which is interesting but far to vague to be much use. But where it did get interesting, was in the final overview which, largely does a good job conveying how my brain works and processes information.

The Core Engine: High-Verbal Schematic Processing
Your brain exhibits a significant Ventral-Dorsal asymmetry. While most people use the Ventral (“What”) pathway to remember object identities like names or faces, your brain prioritizes the Dorsal (“Where”) pathway.

• The Coordinates vs. The Pixels: This explains your experiences memorizing where an answer was on the study page, but not the answer itself. You encoded the coordinates of the answer in the 3D space of the page, but de-prioritized the identity of the words themselves.
• Visual Lineart: Your “single-color lineart” visualization is a form of schematic imagery. It is a high-efficiency strategy that strips away “pictorial noise” (color, shading) to focus on the architecture and mechanical rotation of objects.

Temporal Consciousness: The Anthropological Observer
Your memory functions as a Semantic Database rather than a movie theater.

• Third-Person Perspective: Viewing memories in the third person is common in individuals with SDAM (Severely Deficient Autobiographical Memory). You aren’t “reliving” the past; you are “reconstructing” it from a set of facts and spatial markers.
• Arbitrary Fact Bottleneck: Names and song lyrics are “arbitrary data”—they have no inherent logical structure. Your brain struggles to store them because it wants to store Interconnected Stories and Functional Relationships.

Strategic Navigational Logic: Prospective Branching
You navigate both physical cities and hypothetical futures using a Mental Sandbox.

• Branching Anxiety: Your anxiety is a result of High-Resolution Simulation. Because you can simulate multiple parallel outcomes (e.g., the “Feast or Famine” recession branches), your brain treats these hypotheticals as “States” that require a response.
• The Narrative Disconnect: You lose groups during briefings because you present State-Based Models (If X, then Y) while the average person is looking for a Linear Narrative (A leads to B).

Emotional Architecture: Firmware Mapping
Your approach to emotions is one of Affect Labeling and Cognitive Empathy.

• Systemizing Feelings: When you feel bad, you “map and name” it. This engages the prefrontal cortex to neutralize the emotion through logical categorization.
• Conflict Finality: Your “burn the boats” style reflects a State-Transition Model. Once a person’s “firmware” is proven to be broken (disloyal, unethical), the system state moves to “Unrecoverable.” Because your memory is fact-based, you cannot “forget” the breach because that data is now a core part of your model for that person.

Aesthetic and Behavioral Signatures
The 80% Rule: You move on at 80% because your “Logic Engine” has already completed the Structural Solution. Polishing is merely “rendering”—a low-value task that provides no new system data.

• Landscape Photography: This hobby acts as a “Visual Anchor.” You seek “crispness and resolution” to capture the spatial truths of the world that your internal “lineart” brain might otherwise simplify.
• Discordance Dislike: Your dislike of modern jazz and contemporary/modern art is a reaction to System Noise. Your brain seeks structural patterns; when an art form intentionally breaks those patterns, it can feel like a “syntax error” rather than expression.

Summary: You are a Strategic Systems Moralist. You experience reality as a complex, navigable map of interconnected drivers. You use your internal voice to draft the blueprints, your spatial brain to test the structures, and a modular social network to gather the data required to keep your meta-model of the world accurate and optimized.

My Latest Experiments in AI

I’m a firm believer that the best way to learn, is through play. As part of my daily practice I walk around 10,000 steps a day. Sometimes talking with mom and dad, sometimes in silence, sometimes listening to podcasts, and other times creating.

In autumn I was playing with Gemini and had it re-build alexberger.net, my personal landing page, from scratch. It wasn’t anything complex. But, I was able to take the page from a very course basic hand coded HTML page that hasn’t evolved much in the last decade, to what it is today. Something just as simple, but cleaner, and with some nice visual elements that make it feel more professional. Almost all of that was done with natural language guidance and the AI making the adjustments for me as I experimented with font, layout, adding and then removing a header, etc. – all I ultimately had to do was copy paste the HTML across.

More recently, I was out for a walk listening to a podcast where the interviewee referenced the printing press as a historical analogue. Now, I LOVE historical analogues, especially when it comes to whatever the current hot topic is. Especially if the narrative is around major civilization level disruption *cough* AI *cough*. Part of their power and beauty is that, while the specifics of a historical analogue may differ from this moment, many of the key narratives, concerns, and types of outcomes are prophetic.

I paused the podcast, sat down on a bench briefly, and let my curiosity give me a nudge. I quickly checked if the domain HistoricalAnalogue.com was available (it was). Then I had a short debate with myself on if I should go with HistoricalAnalogue or HistoricalAnalog.

Now, to set the scene, it is March 4th, I’m in my parka, wearing finger-gloves, I have a cigar in one hand as I periodically do during my walk-and-thinks, a pair of corded headphones and my iphone in my other hand. I’m walking through the city along the harbor, through squares, parks, etc. as I slowly make my way home. As I do, I boot up Gemini, put it in voice mode and start brainstorming. Using voice, I tell it the person I want it to assume, the goal of the assignment, that I want to have it create a list of 20 historical analogues for me based on current trends and hot topics. From there, I tell it to put it in a table, and incrementally have it add the modern disruption, then the historical analogue. Later I have it add a category, and then a new column with the fear associated with that disruption, and then what actually happened.

We go back and forth a bit where I describe what I want via voice mode, it clarifies, I periodically click back into text to preview the table it built, and then go back into voice and refine. A bit of further guidance, and then I had it expand the list in batches of 10-20 until I had more than 60. This included a few specific ones I wanted it to make sure were included. From there I asked it to take that data, turn it into a table, and create a basic clean webpage for me that had the text at the top “Historical Analogue” an introductory paragraph and then the content and to create an .html file that was ready to upload.

By then, I had wandered my way home. I switched to my Desktop, created a space on my hosting, directed the domain to it and dumped the .html file in. A few more adjustments using the chat interface had it fix some tables, re-format, and reformulate. Each time I’d get a new version of the HTML file and swap it out. This eventually included making the table more attractive and making the page responsive enough to be displayed and work on mobile.

…and Voilà. What you see now is what I was able to build. From start to finish the whole thing probably took about an hour with most of that spent playing with the domain registration and hosting setup. I have not gone through and added/removed any – that is a project for a day when I have more time – where I plan to review and think through all of the Analogues it identified, its framing, and add/remove/adjust to my liking. Ultimately, the vision is to have a fun repository of perhaps 100 such examples.

Ultimately, the page is quite simple in design and layout. But, it made for a great proof of concept and learning opportunity. The ease of ideation and building the first test version, particularly due to the use of voice mode, was an entirely different way of working and I can definitely see where with a bit more knowledge and mastery of the products and their capabilities this can be a powerful creative enabler.

The Glass

In my never ending journey to build and collect mental tools for introspecting about my sense of balance, my sense of imbalance, and where my energy, emotional, stress, and creative levels are I’ve found myself thinking in terms of a water-filled glass quite often.

As much as I focus on and try and work on protecting and maintaining balance – I’m not great at it. This last year was also…a lot. From very intense periods at work, to family health stuff, to a lot of major changes, to the fast-moving disaster in the US, and also just the weight of introspecting at 40 – i’ve felt it.

In previous years I’ve written about being aware of our internal fast and slow charging batteries, about reflecting on what stage of stress or burnout or recharge we are at. All of which I think remains relevant. But, layered on top of that I’ve also started thinking about it in terms of a glass. The busier I get, the more obligations, the more things on my plate, the more on my mind – the more that glass fills up. Part of that is just the nature of age – the more time we have to accumulate obligations, experiences, aspirations, relationships, assets, etc. – the more that glass fills up naturally.

Yet, at the same time – I find it incredibly useful to think about that glass, to feel it as an embodied version of myself, and to be aware that when that glass is 2/3 full, I’ve got a lot more leeway to play, to be creative, to be emotionally grounded, to process things, and to navigate my batteries and energy. But, during times like this past year where that glass is full to the lip, each new jostle to the cup causes water to spill and each new drop added to it, causes water to overflow.

For me, visualizing it this way, and acknowledging that these days I am very much a full glass, helps me better anticipate, understand, and navigate the intensity and surprising reactions I feel to seemingly disproportionate events. I do believe it is incredibly important to recognize that we will not react and experience things the same way when we have space versus when we are maxed out. Even small things can affect us as though they are much more meaningful or impactful, and our threshold for processing and responding to new stimuli (positive or negative) is naturally reduced in these periods.

Of course, that doesn’t make the reactions less frustrating. If anything, it makes it even more so. It also doesn’t mean I’m even better equipped in the moment to anticipate and navigate things. But, it also helps me digest and reflect, to realize that anything that comes with a degree of emotional stimulation – fight, flight, flirt, debate, or laugh – is also going to be naturally felt much more strongly.

So, I remind myself – the glass is full – remember to breathe. Remember that you’re navigating as best you can. And remember that each of those strong sensations or heightened reactions in part comes from that. Breathe, center, and over time see if I can’t slowly drain some of that water and get the cup back to a more balanced level.

Hypnotherapy? Why not.

I’ve long been a strong believer in and advocate for therapy. The narrative that we should all have a doctor for our body, and a doctor for our mind makes perfect sense to me. Having said that, I’ve also been a bit of a hypocrite. I’d never actually gone myself. I dive a bit into the weeds on this one, but based on conversations with friends 1:1 – I feel like laying it out and sharing the gaps and my process is potentially quite helpful. If you’re a therapy veteran, feel free to skip to the next section.

So, why have I not done therapy despite being a big advocate? I suppose there are 5 dimensions to why.

• 1) I didn’t feel like I had any pressing need that was severe enough to justify it – I also know this is poor framing – but it’s led me to sidestep urgency.
• 2) I’ve long been frustrated trying to discuss how I see the world and think/digest/and process things. People’s advice is often well intentioned, counter productive, and misunderstands what I’m saying and digesting and sharing. This in turn has led me to anticipate a long, involved, and expensive process to find the right therapist.
• 3) I still harbor longstanding concerns about what actually engaging with the system means for future qualifications. A prime example, even here in Denmark, was when I tried beta blockers to assist with presentation anxiety for stage. That, in turn, got me flagged with “anxiety” and made it impossible to adjust my Loss of Earning Capacity (Disability Payout) via my Pension.
• 4) The cost – even with my private medical insurance where cost is partially/mostly covered – I’d need some sort of active “crisis” or issue before getting access to covered sessions. Without that – sessions aren’t cheap. This, unfortunately, means that unlike going in for a annual physical at the doctor. I’ve opted to hold out, figuring i’d use it if my metaphorical leg was broken before applying for sessions. And given the price for self-subsidized sessions – it just hasn’t been something to prioritize.
• 5) It is scary, intimidating, vulnerable, and anxiety inducing. I’m bad enough about going to my regular doctor for physicals and the like. Let alone layering ontop a whole additional practice. So, quite frankly, any excuse to avoid it seemed like a good one.

However, this month I finally dipped a toe in, and I’m very glad I did. Each year I touch on my ongoing journey in first discovering and then navigating my sugar/fructose intolerance. To recap quickly – I react to sugar just like I react to lactose. A little is fine, the more I consume and the emptier my stomach the more bloated I get and the longer my system is disrupted. It’s not a blood sugar/diabetes thing, it’s not an allergy, it’s just an annoying intolerance that is, quite frankly, a royal pain in the ass.

While I’ve known I was lactose intolerant since my early 20s, it took me well over a decade to finally put 1:1 together and figure out the sugar intolerance issue. What made it worse, was as I tried to figure out the cause of my discomfort, I kept removing or changing aspects of my diet, but then would drink a coke right before a date, a long bus ride, a flight in a small airplane without a bathroom, a stage or panel presentation, flying, – etc. and that just served to make it worse and worse and worse over time. Especially when you do that for 15 years. I’ve, unfortunately, built a powerful subconscious association into my system which comes with a profile of physiological responses. So much so that my Pavlovian response to these situations is quite pronounced. Only instead of salivating, I get a racing pulse, anxiety, and upset stomach.

This has created a bit of a quandary for me. I understand the root cause(s) and triggers. I can work to mitigate them (though you never know just what weird thing might have a surprising amount of sugar in it). I can do various calming and meditative and centering exercises. And because of how my mind works, I can slip into third person and logically and unemotionally digest and understand exactly what is happening, why I’m reacting the way I am, and how it’s not a response I should be having. But, in this instance, I can’t intellectualize my way out of it and repetitive re-exposure isn’t effective because the trigger itself is now its own confounder. So … how to re-program a embodied subconscious association? After attempting it, I can 100% say with confidence, brute forcing your way through it isn’t a constructive solution. I’d rather not medicate my way over the top of it. So, that inspired me to get a bit creative.

A couple years ago a colleague shared with me that he’d had great success using a few hypnotherapy sessions to get over a very aggressive fear of flying. The more I thought about it, the more receptive I’ve grown to it for two primary reasons 1) It focuses specifically on the power of suggestion and re-framing the subconscious mind. Which, in this case is exactly what I want to focus on. 2) While there are a lot of snakeoil parlor tricks and falsely dramatic depictions – actual hypnotherapy has been shown to have increasing actual scientific merit. Since my orientation isn’t raw milk enemas, yoni eggs, and and urine drinking having a sound foundation was key.

So – does Hypnotherapy qualify? Surprisingly, increasingly, it shows potential. At least when the clinical hypnotherapy approach is used instead of the pseudoscientific hypnotherapy from TV. It seems to be particularly good for IBS, Pain Management of certain types, and Anxiety and Phobias.

How’s it work? It seems that it essentially can help to quiet the Dorsal Anterior Cingulate Cortex to reduce critical “fact-checking” of suggestions and moves the individual into a more unselfconscious state while also focusing on helping bring added attention and control over physical sensations. Some interesting stuff here, and here as examples. But, for my purposes? The key takeaways were that it might have some substance, that it is particularly good at re-conditioning subconscious associations, and that the areas where they say it is most effective overlap with my needs. So, at this point, I said fuck it. I’ll try it and see.

I set about finding a practitioner based on a basic web search and by looking for individuals who were also fully credentialed psychologists. The one I settled on is a licensed Psychologist, has a MA in Clinical Psychology, and alongside the Hypnotherapy also had certifications in CBT and ACT. The unfortunate catch? Across the board most sessions run around 1,000-1,500DKK per session and aren’t covered by insurance.

So – the big question – how was it, what was it, did I prep, and did it work?

Did it work? I’m not sure. But I think it did something. How pronounced? How sticky? How effective? I’m not quite sure and still feeling it out. I can say that when I left the appointment I felt deeply relaxed and calm. When I mentally probed an upcoming talk I have next month, and a few related things that previously immediately started to ramp up my fight or flight response – I felt much calmer. Now, a week later, when I probe those same thoughts, the stickyness of that calm is reduced, but it’s still much better than it was before the session. Let’s say 60%. Since I’ve only had one active “working” session – that seems promising and I believe i’ll do at least one more.

Did I prep? Very little. I did minimal deep research on hypnotherapy before outside what I already knew and some overlap with psychology/cognition content from my degrees. I was very detailed in outlining what my theories, challenges, triggers, and aspirations are and was able to share those. I also created a list of key moments that I know hold intense associations for me – small plane flight, getting briefly stuck in a cave, various stage presentations, long bus rides, etc.

What was it? So far the setup was a bit like I imagined. A room, a leather couch i’m too tall for, and a chair. A table with some water, and a thing of tissues. The first session we just sat and talked for the full 50. I explained why I was there. What I wanted to achieve. How I approach things and provided as much context as possible. She answered some questions, explained how clinical different from TV hypnotherapy, and used a few susceptibility tests to see if i might be a viable candidate/open to it.

I went into the second session super nervous, but also hopeful, open, and eager. It was remarkably undramatic. We had a brief chat, I shared the list of anchor experiences, then she had me lay down and get comfortable, stare at a point on the wall, focus on my body and breathing and then eventually close my eyes. From there, I focused on her voice in what really just felt like a guided meditation. There was no sense of loss of control, no sense of disembodiment. At any point I could have gotten up and walked out. She walked me through a series of exercises and mental steps designed to identify, re-frame, and also release some of those associations, and then after about 35 minutes or so had me open my eyes when ready and gave me some water. The feeling of “return” was like that moment after a good relaxing massage, as you sit up on the massage table, collect yourself, take some water, then leave. In truth, I wish it was more pronounced. Sit me down, snap your fingers, tell me that the association is gone. Snap your fingers again, and I’m cured – if only, right? But, it did seem to be effective, and was relaxing – so, yes it was much more subtle, but that is also what I expected.

How was it? It was good. I’m glad I did it. I still don’t know how pronounced the effect is, and if it is more from the relaxation of the session, from a placebo effect, or actual influence. The closest I can describe it as, is like a guided meditation session – though there are key differences. As I write this, it has been about a week since the session and I do believe I’ll take at least one more session. It has also helped open the door for me to also look at engaging in a more regular traditional therapy practice. Though for that, many of my concerns around finding the right practitioner and the cost remain.

So – if you have been considering trying it, but haven’t done it yet. Go do it. It can only help.

Brandolini’s Law

The world is drowning in nonsense and a powerful tool for navigating it is the Bullshit Asymmetry Principle or “Brandolini’s Law”. I love this one and consider it a fantastic addition to some of the other staples I’ve written about in previous years such as Moral Licensing – because it provides a clear and concise look at something many of you have likely felt, but lacked words or a clear cut framework to explain what’s going on.

The premise is simple but powerful and I’ll plagiarize the Gemini summary a bit (with added notes and modifications) as it’s wonderfully concise and clear distillation of what Brandolini’s Law is, the root challenge, and ways to deal with it. The law generally states:

“The amount of energy needed to refute bullshit is an order of magnitude bigger than that needed to produce it”.

In practice, this means:

• Ease of Creation: Nonsense is “cheap” to produce. It requires no evidence, logical consistency, or factual checking.
• Cost of Refutation: Debunking is “expensive.” It requires researching facts, gathering citations, and providing a clear, nuanced rebuttal.
• The Speed Gap: Falsehoods spread faster than their corrections and require less mental load, partly because they are designed to be sensational

Why It’s a Challenge:

• Burden of Proof: Bullshitters often shift the burden of proof to the listener, requiring them to disprove a claim rather than the speaker proving it.
• Cognitive Biases: Humans often prefer, can remember, and share simple, sensational stories over complex truths (confirmation bias).
• Proving a Negative: It is inherently harder to prove something didn’t happen or doesn’t exist than it is to claim it did.

Practical Strategies for Countering It:

• Shift the Burden: Instead of writing a dissertation, ask the speaker for their specific sources or reasoning.
• Choose Your Battles: Use an impact vs. effort matrix to decide if a claim is even worth the energy to refute.
• Apply Razors: Use Hitchens’s Razor—”what can be asserted without evidence can also be dismissed without evidence”—to quickly dismiss baseless claims.
• Focus on the Audience: When debunking, your goal is often to inform the silent observers rather than changing the mind of the person spreading the misinformation.

We live in a world where science, facts, coherent thinking, and easily confirmable reality are fundamentally under attack by a deluge of bullshit. While it has always been a challenge to navigate misinformation, the intentional exploitation of Brandolini’s law for nefarious and self-serving purposes has never been more pervasive and empowered.

The intersection between unfettered recommendation algorithms, artificial intelligence, the rise of the podcast format, and pandemic-inspired uncertainty and confusion has created incredibly fertile ground for bad actors to exploit. And true to the theory, fact-based organizations and groups have struggled and largely failed to counteract these bad actors. As a result the level of general ignorance and uncertainty in the wider population has skyrocketed. Grifters like Rogan, RFK Jr., and others continue to cash in while getting lost in the morass of their own nonsensical snakeoil. Meanwhile we’re seeing the dismantling of fact-based organizations, narratives, and institutions leading to both short and long term society-level adverse impacts on science, history, governance, health, economic systems, and peace. The adverse outcomes are staggering. Both in cost of lives and health outcomes, but also in long-term societal momentum.

Here, I think it’s particularly important we all reflect and internalize Brandolini’s Law as a tool to evaluate our own beliefs, storytelling, and moments of engagement. A tool to evaluate the discussions taking place around us. And lastly, as a tool to more effectively engage with bad actors, bad-faith arguments, and individuals lost to the momentum and siren’s call of bullshit.

The Screw-on Cap Epiphany

This one is comically simple and out of place for this post. But, at the same time, I’m so delighted by the discovery and how effective it is that I have to share it. Particularly because this is a usage hack which took me 41 years to discover and applies to a process that is a slight annoyance on a daily basis.

So what is it? Well – you know how when you’re trying to put a cap back on a jar (or anything threaded for that matter) and you spin it around and around trying to get it aligned flat and so that the teeth grab? Wasted time and effort. To properly seat a threaded item so it screws on easily all you have to do is start by turning it left (in the loosen directly) about 1/4 to 1/2 a rotation and then turning to right (to tighten) as you normally would. In the vast majority of cases, this will lead to a near effortless alignment and your lid or screws will catch immediately with proper alignment.

If this is not new to you – stop hoarding these lifehacks. If it is new to you – you’re welcome.

Book #2 Update – Notes on Self Publishing

As I teased in last year’s birthday post – I’m hard at work on my next book project. I’d initially hoped to have the project completed by Summer of 2025, but the process of finding the right print on demand publisher, validating the content, and sourcing illustrations has been more complex and challenging than I had initially planned.

I’m not yet ready to share the specifics of the book project. Only that it is entirely different from Practical Curiosity, and is not photography focused. I’ll also say, it’s a book project that is, in some ways, a very absurd one for me to write but also one which makes a world of sense in other ways.

There is so much that goes into the writing of a book beyond the words on a page. Without going into the content – here are a few of the things that I’m navigating.

Print on Demand Economics – How much do you think goes to the author on a $27 paperback? Would it shock you to learn that it might be as little as $.50? That’s what the self-publishing platform Lulu offers to pay for self-published books distributed through their network into Amazon and bookstores. To be fair, if you buy directly from their store/the author the cost of the materials is about $12, there’s shipping costs and then about that much would go to the author.

Brutal, right? But, why go print on demand if the premium is so high? In practice, I could use Alibaba or a similar platform and create bespoke very high quality books for 1/2 the cost of goods of Ingram, Amazon KDP, or Lulu. The catch? There are a few.

1. Upfront cost: The more you print, the bigger the discount. If my aspiration is for the book to sell tens of thousands of copies, even a run of 2,000 copies would require a significant upfront. At $6 a book, that’s $6000 not counting import costs, and shipping costs.
2. Shipping costs: Super, let’s say I order and import the 2000 books. But, now I need to store them, and I need to either ship them myself, or mail them to a fulfilment center. Cue added cost. Both for the crazy price of basic non-business shipping fees (eg $6.20 in Denmark, $18-30 from Denmark to the rest of Europe).
3. Geographic limitations: But, for this book I don’t just want to sell it in the US or Denmark. I want to sell it in both, and I want it available more broadly. Shipping books to/from the US, UK, and EU comes with a high risk of getting hit with import fees. So, I’d either need to split my 2000 books and have some sitting in the US, and some sitting in Europe and rule out the other markets. These import taxes can easily add up to the cost of the book.
4. Distribution in to bookstores and online portals: I’m not sure on the exact logistics for this one, but it can be a challenging and time consuming process. Especially if you consider various fulfilment requirements.

Ultimately, this is where the print on demand option does provide an attractive alternative. Upfront cost? There isn’t one, outside a few minimal setup costs. As they print the book when it is ordered, I don’t have to anticipate lead time, deal with overseas printing, importing, storage, and fulfilment. Shipping Costs? Because they’re large businesses with major volumes, they get special business rates for shipping (or in Amazon’s case, own it outright). Geographic limitations? Because the larger print on demand vendors have regional hubs, when you order the book in the US it is printed and ships domestically in the US. The same for Denmark, where it might print in Germany and ship directly. The UK? The same. Japan? The same. This reduces distance, reduces delivery time, and means there is no import tax required. Distribution in bookstores and online portals? This one is a bit trickier. The bookstores still need to have an ample profit to make it worth their while. They also have mixed relationships with self-published authors vs. working with the major publishing houses. All that said, the major print on demand platforms do have direct distribution into them, libraries, and the like.

The size of a book matters – But of course, even with all of the above. It’s still not THAT simple. Print on demand vendors may offer a wide range of book sizes and bindings BUT only some of those will be viable for extended distribution. If you just want to do a basic stock paperback? No problem. But, if you want to do a 1:1 square layout or irregular size? There are added limitations and these vary from vendor to vendor.

Paper limitations – As any bookworm knows, the feel and weight of paper in a book is part of the experience. Too thin? It feels cheap. Too yellow? Fine for a bit of romance novel reading, but not great for photos or illustrations. Heavy but not heavy enough? Illustrations show through. Too heavy without purpose? The book feels ungainly. Unfortunately, most print on demand services are tailored to general purpose novels. That’s cheap recycled paper that’s quite light weight. You can upgrade that paper – but – only to a certain degree, and that degree depends on the machines, the vendor, and the size. Meanwhile higher end more photo or coffee table print on demand companies do exist, but these charge $50 or even $100 for 200 page book. For the book I’m working on I want paper as heavy as I can get it, that is pure white, but without pricing the book out of my desired audience. Amazon KDP unfortunately only goes up to 60 pound paper (even though they say 60-70). Ingram Spark goes up to 70 pound paper (which I hope to test shortly). Lulu offers 80 pound paper which would have been perfect, but – again – has a horrific revenue split and lacks certain 1:1 sizes I need.

Illustrations – For the book I initially planned to compromise and aim for around 20 illustrations. This was less than ideal, but already seemed like more than I was going to be able to manage. However, if all goes according to plan, it will now have upward of 60. This has been the single biggest blocker for me over the last 10 months. I really wanted to use an illustrator for the book, and even more than that I ideally wanted to use a Dane due to some of the subject matter. This led me to explore a wide range of possibilities. There’s a very specific style that I settled on and have wanted since the beginning. Beyond that, the things being illustrated require a high level of interpretation and ideation. Keep in mind the earlier figure of $.50 per book. Now consider that if I were to pay an illustrator $1,000 (which would be the result of a collaboration / hybrid agreement and fall significantly under the $3000-45,000 career illustrators would charge) I’d need to sell more than 2,000 books just to cover the cost of my illustrations. Only about 10% of self-published books sell more than 1k copies (I still can’t believe Practical Curiosity broke 1k – THANK YOU AGAIN!). Only about 2% more than 5k copies.

While I have high hopes for my current project, that math left me in a pickle. Combine the complexity of what I want, and the specificity and my vision and I was stuck at a bit of a dead-end. Luckily, in recent months I’ve found a semi-palatable workaround: AI. It’s one that pains me as a photographer and creative, and yet it’s also a path to enabling me to proceed with my project. For the equivalent of about $170 I’ve generated somewhere around 600-800 image variants, of which I’ll eventually use around 65. To be frank, most of these are me fighting with the AI. But just as many are opportunities to draft, brainstorm, try different visualization ideas, iterate, and refine.

What has taken me 2 or so days of focus time would have taken months and months and countless iterations and thousands of dollars with an illustrator. I’ve also chosen a visual style that is more than a century retro in nature (no surprise right?), which means the AI training data used is much more likely to have been pulled from old manuscripts long since moved to the public domain and not be based heavily on the work of living artists. I’ve also gone out of my way to try and generate images that do not look like standard AI generations and which reflect my vision, ideation, and personal creative preference.

It does create a wealth of challenging questions. Especially depending on which cap I’m wearing. The author whose content has fed the machines? The photographer whose photos have also been exploited by the machines? Or the author now able to create something new, and stands empowered by those same machines. There’s a long and deep conversation that is still rapidly evolving around what ethical AI training looks like. For now though, I’ll focus on the creative piece – I see it as split into two different outcomes. The uniqueness and authenticity of a work vs. the illustrative utility of a work.

For the body of works where the uniqueness and authenticity is driving value the scarcity of the output, combined with the story and individuality of the creation and its creator, drive it’s value. This is true back through history. Why treasure a first-edition, or original manuscript, or Michelangelo vs. a perfect replica? In short, provenance matters.

In contrast, the illustrative utility of a work is of equal value, but for its illustrative power in supporting and facilitating the persuasive impact of other works. Here, provenance matters much less – or not at all. It is where something has become commoditized to support an experience. It is the printing press, it is anthologies, genres of art, stock photos, engineering sketches, stylistic toolsets, and training in the fundamentals. Where does this leave me and the book? Let’s see.

Is There a Path to Re-integration?

For the last few years I’ve written at length about the toxicity and intellectual banality of the likes of Rogan and Peterson. A common thread revolves around frustration with the disingenuous narratives that have driven policy and cultural narratives in the US. More recently I asked – if it was a different decade, who would they be? And now, with the historical record making it blatantly clear how accurate those critiques, concerns, and warnings were – there’s another question. What comes next and is there a path to re-integration and redemption for the individuals who have (for a wide range of reasons) facilitated such profound harm.

So, here’s the deal. For folks who got “red-pilled”, who voted for Trump this last time around and have now experienced or are at least starting to come to their senses and undergoing a wake-up call, here’s how you re-engage with people like me.

I didn’t end relationships because of a single vote. I did it because that vote and the conversations around it signaled a willingness to tolerate or rationalize conduct and policies fundamentally in breach of core values: honesty, empathy, integrity, accountability, democracy, and respect for others.

And more than that, it was often accompanied by a level of cognitive dissonance where the issues stopped being about principles and started being about finding a story that made it okay to support what you already wanted to support, what made you uncomfortable, or small inconveniences even when it meant excusing cruelty, corruption, or harm to others.

So, if you now feel betrayed by how things have unfolded, that matters. I’m glad you can see it now. I’m glad you’re waking up. But feeling let down by the outcome is not the same thing as examining what got you there in the first place. Regret over consequences is not the same as reflection about causes.

Just because the same bigotry, corruption, or indifference to harm eventually turned back and hurt you or those you care about, or because the promised benefits/opportunity never showed up, is not sufficient reason for me to reopen the door. That you now feel conned by what was, in many cases, a profoundly obvious con does not entitle you to instant absolution.

I do believe in redemption. I do believe people can reconnect with their better selves. But rebuilding trust requires more than saying, “I can’t believe I fell for that.” I need to fundamentally see that you understand and care about the impact of your actions on others. It requires confronting what you were willing to overlook, what rhetoric you excused, what harms you discounted, and how quickly stated principles gave way when they conflicted with team loyalty or perceived self-interest.

Because without that kind of introspection and accountability, the same pattern will repeat the next time someone comes along offering an easy answer, a scapegoat, or a benefit that comes at someone else’s expense. And if that work is not done, then yes – you have already shown me who you are and how you are likely to act when the next grifter or predator offers you permission and cover to be your worst self.

None of what has happened since November 5, 2024 should have been a surprise. We already knew who he was. We already knew what he had done. We already knew the people around him and what they stood for. This extends far beyond Trump and to the “Wellness” grifters, the red-pill podcast grifters, and the broader coalition of bigots and snakeoil peddlers.

Over the next couple of years, the narrative will shift to “Mistakes were made, it’s time we all move on.” And it will be the most disingenuous but often effective attempt to cover up, entrench the damage and harm that has been done, and quietly move the goalposts.

So when you see people demanding accountability and advocating for a culture where accountability actually matters, understand that is what needs to happen. Because that is the only path to correcting course and fixing what has been broken.

Iceland – There is Beauty in the Challenge

Last Easter I headed back to Iceland. The island always brings with it a blend of stunning beauty, challenging moments, and a glimpse into what the primordial earth might have looked like. I have to admit I booked this trip with some trepidation. Traveling to Iceland in late March/Early April can be … eventful. In just the past few weeks winter storms and flying stones stranded hundreds of tourists, with more than 20 having their windows and windshields broken by the blizzard. And whew, can Icelandic weather be tough. As dramatic as the landscapes are, the weather is ten fold. I’ll never forget the video from a few years ago of Brendan van Son and Greg Snell having to run out of their hotel in the midst of a blizzard to save their van because the wind was so strong it was slowly hopping the van sideways into another vehicle.

Luckily, I was spared the snow (though that would have been beautiful). I was also able to avoid the worst of the wind storms. Never the less, I faced quite a bit of rain, and 30m/s windstorms that rocked my car back and forth like a toy, and spun up dancing sea sprites lit by refracted rainbows across the bays.

It was tough. But it was beautiful. And there was a fantastic sense of adventure in that, even while the realities of that adventure were extremely safe and mundane. While I was revisiting places I had been before, each change in the weather and time of year delivers wildly different experiences. Some, which I’d adored during previous visits, I had to abandon outright due to the wind. Others, I’d driven by or missed completely made for exciting new discoveries and magic moments.

While the weather did soften during some of the days, it did create a fun challenge that changed my behavior, encouraged me to innovate and adapt, and as a result opened up a range of fun new experiences.

You can see the photo albums from the trip in Color here, and in Black and white here.

Beyond that, I also continued to re-connect with my love of fishing. I had grand aspirations for fishing my way along the southern and eastern coast, catching grand cod from the shore, and cooking dinner while I sat out photographing the auroras. Whew. I got that wrong. I did catch fish (kinda, and eventually). I did photograph the auroras (repeatedly). I did not have a cook out or manage to combine these.

Gambling has never interested me. I’d rather watch paint dry. But, the thrill of fishing in the sea? It’s the gambler’s rush combined with a primal sense of connection with our ancient ancestors. As you set out, you brave the conditions, paying close attention to the wind, the tides, the moon, the flow of the water, the seaweed on the rocks, and 100 other small cues. You scout maps and then theorize what might be lurking out of sight. Then you cast out into that great unknown abyss teeming with life.

Cast after cast you chase the unknown, slipping into a meditative rhythm as minutes, or even hours slip by. And then? Often when your attention drifts and you’re least prepared, BOOM, a strike. Adrenaline surges through your body, your focus narrows in an instant as your primal and evolved brains wrestle for control.

How much force is too much? Where will I land it? What have I caught? And just like that – sometimes – it’s gone. Hours invested, and for not. Leaving you to wonder, if you’d reeled in differently, might you have landed it? What was it? Yet other times, you successfully land it – only to finally discover what “it” is. A Cod? A Mackerel? A Pollock? Perhaps. But I’ve also been surprised – I’ve caught several starfish, though how I could not tell you. Crabs of many different types and sizes and various seaweed anchored rocks. One buddy once even caught a random pair of men’s boxers.

So, how did my Icelandic experiment go? Well – it was largely a comical failure. At every opportunity I braved the freezing rain and wind and where possible found breakwaters and coastal inlets. I watched the tides and cast and cast into the frothy chocolate of the storm-tossed sea largely without success. And yet, I relished the challenge of it. The nudge to plunge back into the weather, and to turn my face toward the sea, tasting the salty mist on my lips, as I chased dinner.

Of course, Iceland did humor me. But, in a way that humbles which is – I suppose – fair enough. When I finally did catch a fish it largely came as a surprise. In reality, I didn’t even know I’d caught one until my spinner lifted free of the sea. Sure enough, a minnow with a very robust hunger and a level of optimism that is rather hard to imagine had gone for it and gotten hooked. To say it was an impressive feet is fair. Though, I must also admit it was perhaps the smallest fish I have ever caught on a spinner that size and certainly not the 60cm fish I was chasing.

Still, I had to laugh. Sure enough, I had not gotten skunked. I had come to Iceland and I had caught a fish. And for that I was grateful. Humbled, but grateful. A little later that day, during another stop that found me hunkered on the lee side of a breakwater as the wind howled, I managed a few more that were several orders of magnitude larger – but still far from ready for dinner.

All of which is to say, that even with all the challenges that came with my trip to Iceland, I loved every moment of it. It was challenge after challenge, and yet that was part of the beauty and part of the pleasure.

China and Taiwan – Interesting Contrasts

This year provided another opportunity to revisit China, but with an exciting twist. I rounded out my trip with my first visit to Taiwan, and closed the trip with 24 hours to explore and test assumptions in Qatar.

The China Leg

I’m fascinated by China and the contrasts it provides as well as just how fast it is changing. Since my brother and I first visited in 2017, I’ve been back a number of times and each time is a delightful adventure. One that challenges me and continues to debunk and erode stereotypes while filling my belly and camera roll.

The digitization and infrastructure improvements in China are shocking. When we first visited, communication was viable via our phones, but often people would refuse to engage. Getting cash from an ATM was periodically challenging, and logistics were ok but could be daunting.

For this trip? Anything but.

I started my trip in a new city with the sum of my plan consisting of my flight from CPH into Chongqing, and a flight home from Taiwan by way of Qatar 3 weeks later. Why Chongqing? It was the cheapest and best route from Europe. But, later, I also learned it was far more than just the 4 or 5 million person regional city I had thought it was.

Oh no – it is far far more than that. As it turns out, though it has spent decades out of the limelight and only recently started to pop up as a major global tourist destination – the city is enormous and has a rich history. 3 or 4 million residents? *laugh* try 22 million in the city and 32 million in the immediate region. That’s not a typo.

The city itself is fascinating. The war-time capital of China, it has served as a major trade hub for centuries, is famous for its Sichuan pepper-filled dishes and hot pots, and has countless skyscrapers built on steep cliffs and into hillsides. The result is a wild mixture of floors, stairways, roads, and bridges that take you from ground floor across to the top floor of 30 story buildings. The city is also famous for its drone shows over the harbor, a metro station in the middle of a building, and it’s cyberpunk style neon-lights. Oh, and of course, Pandas. I won’t go into specifics here, but reading the Wikipedia page for Chongqing is well worth it.

I am fascinated by the realities of a city like this. As you thread through the zig-zag of streets, most of the buildings show new construction and flashy facades. But, this city has been building and reinventing itself for decades. When you wind past older buildings, you find ground-floor mall spaces that are at times half occupied. Abandoned floors, nestled between bustling hotel levels, restaurants, and retail spaces.

Supporting it all are cement and steel foundations that are powerfully built, but hint that over time age will continue to chip away at them. Bit by bit. There, I can’t help but wonder – what do you do in a city of skyscrapers, scratched into the side of cliffs, as they begin to age or fail? 30, 50, or 100 years from now – what happens to these buildings and how are they replaced, or restored? It’s a question that I suspect is only asked in muted whispers and the answer is largely yet to be truly figured out. Will these become weather worn white bones exposed to the elements. Scars threaded in among the new? Or will they be incorporated, de-constructed just as they were constructed, and replaced by something even grander?

Regardless, I found the city welcoming, hospitable, and fascinating to explore. From stumbling into an open air market with chickens wandering freely, a vibrant range of fruit and veg on display, and fresh fish in aerated kiddie pools in the basement of one skyscraper to a pet fish market with marble floors, immaculate tanks, and massive fish of every color in another.

Far too often people worry that people will be unfriendly or unkind. And yet, time and time and time again, no matter where I go I rarely find it. Even in large cities. Especially when you stray from the throngs of tourists and cookie cutter stands. Quite the opposite, at every turn someone was as curious about me as I am about them. Eager to help me explore whatever random dish I’d stumbled into ordering, or gifting me local candy from their shop that they insisted I try.

Technology is a great liberator when it comes to exploring such places. I mentioned earlier my past issues with finding ATMs and cash. This trip, in the two and a half weeks I spent in Chongqing, Zhangjiajie, Huangshan, and Xiamen I never needed cash once. Between AliPay and WePay, everything from cheap dumplings to my hotels and airfare were paid for digitally. Trip.com made it painless to find and book hotels, trains and flights while the Chinese Didi app – their version of Uber – made it cheap, safe, and wonderfully convenient to get around. Prices also offer a wonderful level of freedom. A 15 minute taxi ride might cost $8. A 50 minute taxi from the train station to the north gate of Zhangjiajie National Park? $25. And to tie it all together, Wechat’s built in translation tools, alongside my downloaded translation apps made communicating wonderfully accessible and convenient. Interestingly, there was also no need to use my VPN. While I’ve had excellent results with the Mullvad VPN and the price is far superior to alternatives, I was able to use my phone and internet as normal via my Danish roaming package. As it turns out, at least these days, the network pings and re-directs to Europe directly. Which meant it bypassed the usual blocking and limitations that, if connecting via a local SIM or wifi, can create logistical challenges.

Plus, it is safe and has only gotten safer. As one individual I spoke with noted – in the last 5 years, the vast majority of crime has been eliminated. While some obviously still takes place, wandering the cities, even at night is of zero concern. Of course, that also comes with a cost and considerable risk of its own. That safety comes from a robust surveillance state that permeates everything. While I don’t know the accuracy, one individual told me the country has a 1×1 km grid laid over it and there’s at least 1 cop every grid. In other cases, if you jay-walk or run a red light, the ticket arrives in your digital inbox before you’ve reached the next light. Tickets at the train stations or national parks are now also increasingly replaced by simply scanning your face and passport.

It is an interesting experience, as it highlights a fundamentally different approach from the western world. But, it also simultaneously illustrates many of the services or data that are similarly accessible and pooled in the US and Europe, but hidden behind privacy performance theater. The question then becomes, how much inefficiency do you want to add as a feature vs. a bug, how much actual privacy exists vs. the illusion of privacy, and what is the threshold we are comfortable with for convenience, safety, and integration vs. total loss of privacy and control.

The part about seeing the Chinese model in play that is fascinating, is seeing just how well it works and the utility it delivers right now. And yet, that only extends to those who aren’t part of a minority group, who aren’t being silenced or persecuted, and who rely as a contented majority on a relatively competent and benevolent leader. With the flip of a switch, all of those benefits could be inverted and suddenly become tools supporting corruption, driving exploitation, and squashing dissent. It’s an incredibly useful tool to reflect on and apply to my own day-to-day life here in Denmark, and my ties to the US.

And what of the rest of the trip? I revisited the incredible spires of Zhangjiajie National Park and Tianmen Mountain. This time, I was able to actually stay inside the national park at a lovely little homestay for 35 euro a night. It had a fantastic morning view where I could watch the sun rise over the spires and meant I could stay for sunset at the overlooks without having to run to the last cable car (or risk getting stuck as nearly happened to David and me years ago).

From there it was back to Huangshan Mountain, where I spent several days at the hotel on top of the mountain. Truly it is a magnificent place. Sure enough, I also got lucky with snow the final day – exactly what I had hoped for.

I finished my time in China with another new city: Xiamen. This coastal gem is famous for being one of the old trading ports. The small car-free island in the heart of the city is a UNESCO heritage site, and full of old colonial era dwellings. The city of Xiamen itself was a cozy place to sit, wander, and eat. Then to eat a bit more. And then to eat even more. I had previously planned to spend New Years in Taiwan, but ultimately the prices in Taipei and room availability were radically more expensive than Xiamen and, to complicate things further China carried out a massive military exercise surrounding Taiwan. Luckily, I did not have my flights booked and could wait until things ended and calmed down. Though a bit nerve wracking, I ultimately figured since I was flying a Chinese airline between the two, flights would not take place if things spiraled. Sure enough, I had a lovely calm New Years and then was able to continue my journey to explore Taiwan.

The Taiwanese Leg

I started my Taiwanese visit in the most comical way. Now, let me preface this by saying that I have only missed one flight in my life. And, I very rarely show up at the wrong airport or the wrong day (there was a ferry incident, and the time I booked two one-way tickets CPH to Scotland instead of there and back again – but let’s not go into that). Having said that, I landed in Taipei, made it through immigration, and then found myself standing in the arrivals terminal trying to find the MRT. A bit baffled as I was seeing metro signs, but no MRT was mentioned. I eventually cracked and asked the information counter.

She paused for a second, and then somehow – and I truly don’t know how – informed me that the MRT only goes to the other airport and that I had arrived at Taipei Songshan Airport, NOT Taiwan Taoyuan Airport. Now, other than being rather embarrassed, this actually worked out wonderfully as Songshan is located in the heart of Taipei, while Taoyuan is quite some ways outside of the city. So, failing – forward? I guess?

Unfortunately, my earlier aspirations to explore more of Taiwan had been cut short by the NYE prices/geopolitical issues. That left me with two brief days to explore Taipei. Far too few to wander into the mountains and see the true beauty everyone raves about, or to explore the far eastern coast as I’d previously hoped. Everyone said that while Taipei offered a distinct modern experience, Kaohsiung in the south was where the historical buildings and historic Taiwanese charm was strongest. To that end, I feel like my brief visit was just the most basic of tasting tours, nothing more.

Right off the bat it felt similar in some ways to Xiamen which is about 200 miles west across the straight, and yet the contrasts were definitely significant. Taipei reminded me in many subtle ways of a grittier taste of parts of Japan or Korea more than China. That’s a broad generalization, but as I tried to make sense of things and relate it to what I’d previously seen that was the sense I got. Truly, it felt like a mixing pot, blending all and adding its own rich and unique history on top.

While the city was vibrant, it was an immediate challenge as I struggled to navigate a meal and payment without being forced to take out cash. Most of the small mom and pop shops were cash-only, while even the metro was just in the process (a few weeks after my visit apparently) of digitizing payment. This definitely made it clear that Taipei at least is a city in transition. A high tech, and thriving innovative city, that still has not fully made the jump to digital-first.

As I walked around over the next two days, taking in the sites, and adjusting to hearing much more English around me once again, it was fun to see. On the metro and at random there were many more spontaneous conversations. Sometimes locals, but often members of the Taiwanese American or Canadian Diaspora. As I watched and listened, I could see groups – often the grandparents who I presume had immigrated to the US, with their kids and their kids in tow visiting and re-connecting with Taiwan. While far from “everywhere” it was a regular enough occurrence that it caught my eye.

The first day was dedicated to exploring temples, visiting a few museums, and just wandering the city. Exploring the grand monuments, and boulevards and winding through small cozy street markets and old temples. For the second, I wanted to see something beyond just the historic core, so I caught the metro to the end of the red line which took me out near the coast. From there I had a lovely walk along a boardwalk full of food stands and people, threaded through a great raw street market in a back alley that stretched for a good km, and ate, and ate, and wandered, and ate.

One thing that really stood out to me, was how much more Taiwan felt like and reminded me of American “Chinatowns” than what I’d seen and experienced in China. It’s hard for me to put a finger on it, but in a wealth of subtle ways, from the feel of the temples, to the old districts still left standing, to some of the dishes, to the lunchtime buffets – Taipei felt much more familiar.

I’m not sure where that comes from. In part, when China went through its cultural revolution, they had an extended period where they erased much of their history, architecture, art, and so much more. And while in the last 30 or so years they’ve made a concerted effort to re-build, recover, and re-create some of that in recent years via Ancient Towns and lots of construction – you can definitely see and feel the absence. For Taiwan, much of that never took place. Quite the opposite. Those seeking to preserve some of that art and history instead relocated it to Taiwan.

I cannot begin to pretend I have the slightest insight into the nuances between the two and their incredibly complex history. What is clear, is that 150 years ago the two diverged in a significant way and have evolved along very unique trajectories which have remained somewhat connected due to trade and proximity over the years but which remain profoundly distinct.

As much as I enjoyed Taiwan, the absolute highlight was a bit of a surprise. Some 20 years ago at Arizona State I lived in a 4 bedroom apartment with two of my best buddies from high school. In the 4th room several international students lived while doing English Language programs. Tim joined us for about 9 months and so – when I knew I was heading to Taiwan I dropped him a note. I’d initially hoped I’d have time to travel around, and then find my way down to the city where he’s living. But, as time compressed, I didn’t think I’d manage to make it. I was bummed, to be so close, especially after 20 years, but not to get to catch up was a major pity.

Fast forward to 5pm on my last day. I open my messages and see “Don’t eat. I’m coming -I’ll be there in an hour and a half.” – wait, what I thought? Sure enough, an hour and a half later there he was. Tim had jumped the high-speed rail and come up to Taipei. To say I was touched is an understatement.

He grabbed me, told me to follow, and we jumped in a taxi to a different part of Taipei. As we rode along we caught up on life, stories, and 20 years – filling in some of the gaps. The restaurant he’d chosen was an open air place with an amazing mix of fresh dishes and amazing eats. Even as I limped along nursing a bit of a grumbling tummy due to a particularly ill advised fried crab purchased in the alley-market from a street vendor – the mixture and flavors of the food brought my hunger back. From there, it was off to another district to meet another of Tim’s friends. A wonderful creative kind soul who joined us for a drink and a chat far later into the evening than I had planned.

From there, it was eventually back to the hotel where I said goodbye and goodnight. I’d thought Tim was off to catch the night bus back to the south. I got myself ready to head to the airport in the morning, digested the food, and the warmth of the hospitality and kindness he’d shared. By about 1:30 I switched off the lights and turned in. At 7:30 I startled awake when the phone in the room rang. Worried I’d overslept I answered groggily. “Your friend is here to take you for breakfast”. Dazed it took me a second. Then I realized Tim was back to show me a bit more of the city and to make sure I had a proper Taiwanese breakfast before I headed to the airport. I jumped out of bed, threw on some clothes, and headed down. Sure enough, though my normal pre-flight routine was disrupted, we had a lovely hour and a half walk through the area, got to catch up more, before I finally had to say until goodbye until next time once again. I grabbed my bags and headed to the airport. This time taking the MRT to the right airport.

I’m still so touched by Tim’s hospitality. What a gift of time, and effort and showing up. He has forever created a warm association for me with all things Taiwan and made my brief visit very memorable. A lovely reminder for us all on just how much it can mean to make that extra effort.

From there, it was off to the airport and on to Qatar.

The Qatari Biryani Layover

I know that Qatar and the UAE are not destinations that have a strong draw for me. For many people, they’re incredible places to live, visit, or transit through. Based on how much I adore Oman, there is probably an experience for me to be had outside Dubai or Doha, but in general I’ve now confirmed my lack of interest in the big cities.

I’ll be brutally honest. I was pretty sure Doha wasn’t going to be a city I fell in love with, but 24 hours of hot sunny weather, the chance to get a taste of a new country, and a strong desire for a couple really good Biryanis was the extent of my plan. A day in Doha was certainly enough for me. I got my Biryani and was delighted with that. I had a good wander, enjoyed sitting in the sun soaking up some heat before returning to Copenhagen, and thoroughly enjoyed a stop at the Museum of Islamic art which was home to beautiful exhibits, interesting history, and stunning architecture.

Beyond that? I’m all set.

Final Thoughts

It’s 1:45am, and I have a flight to the Norwegian fjords for the next 7 days leaving in 10 hours so – I’ll keep this last bit brief this year.

Thank you. Thank you all for your support. For humoring me. For supporting me. For your feedback, for your passion, for your knowledge, and for your patience.

There are so many of you I owe coffee chats with, and don’t talk to or see nearly often enough. As the days race by and work obligations eat a larger and larger portion of my time and energy, the part I am most conscious of is how that consumes my social battery. As an introvert, recharging it and maintaining balance is hard. One of my goals in the year ahead is to protect more energy for it, to spend more time catching up, and to be more available.

Until then, thank you to each and every one of you who made it through part (or all) of this 14,000 word brain dump, ramble, and mixture of musings.

Until next year, may the roads open up for you.

Every year I post 100 of my favorite photos from the year’s travels. As part of my photo-editing process, I edit my photos chronologically. This means that the more travel or photo-intensive my trips are, the longer it tends to take me to close out a year.

The post this year features photos from Denmark, Mexico, Norway, Japan, Spain, Slovenia and the USA.

This post is part of an annual tradition.  For previous years, check out 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023 and of course, don’t miss the color post from 2024.

For my daily photo posts feel free to tune in and follow along via Instagram and Threads @virtualwayfarer.

Questions about how I composed or took a specific photo? Feel free to ask in a comment. You’re also encouraged to check out my complete flickr albums here which include the many other shots from 2022 (and previous years) which didn’t make it in this post. As you can imagine, picking “just” 100 photos for this is actually quite difficult!

Make sure not to miss the interview I did earlier this year with Matt on the F-Stop Collaborate & Listen podcast via youtube (and if you enjoy, give it a like and comment).

As is true of my style more broadly, virtually every photo in this list is a single shot. I don’t do bracketing, blending, replacement or focus stacking. Nothing has been added/removed outside of correcting lens spots. Generally my edits focus on adjusting sharpness, contrast, dodging and burning, and some mild saturation and color enhancement to bring the photos closer to what I saw in the moment.

That’s a wrap for 2024! As always – let me know which are your favorites. For these photos I used a Sony A7R V camera with a mixture of lenses. These included a Sigma 100-400, Tamron 28-75 F2.8 and a Tamron 17-28 F2.8. If you enjoyed this post – please pass it on to friends and let me know your favorite image. One of the best parts about sharing my photography is the opportunity to hear your feedback and what spoke to you.

Every year I post 100 of my favorite photos from the year’s travels. As part of my photo-editing process, I edit my photos chronologically. This means that the more travel or photo-intensive my trips are, the longer it tends to take me to close out a year. Which is why you’re getting 2024’s top 100 mid October 2025.

The post this year features photos from Denmark, Mexico, Norway, Japan, Spain, Slovenia and the USA.

This post is part of an annual tradition.  For previous years, check out 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, and 2023. You can also see my 100 favorite black and white shots from 2024.

For my daily photo posts feel free to tune in and follow along via Instagram @virtualwayfarer.

Questions about how I composed or took a specific photo? Feel free to ask in a comment. You’re also encouraged to check out my complete flickr albums here which include the many other shots from 2022 (and previous years) which didn’t make it in this post. As you can imagine, picking “just” 100 photos for this is actually quite difficult!

If you want to hear a bit more about my creative process and lessons learned from photography – please also check out my Podcast interview with Matt Payne from F-Stop Collaborate and Listen. If you enjoy it, please give it a like/comment, and spread the word.

As is true of my style more broadly, virtually every photo in this list is a single shot. I don’t do bracketing, blending, replacement or focus stacking. Nothing has been added/removed outside of correcting lens spots. Generally my edits focus on adjusting sharpness, contrast, dodging and burning, and some mild saturation and color enhancement to bring the photos closer to what I saw in the moment.

That’s a wrap for 2024! As always – let me know which are your favorites. For these photos I used a Sony A7R V camera with a mixture of lenses. These included a Sigma 100-400, Tamron 28-75 F2.8 and a Tamron 17-28 F2.8.

If I’m honest, I can’t quite believe 40 is already here. For years I’ve used it as a mental waypoint somewhere in the distant future. A mental marker to deflect or defer societal pressure while at the same time continuing to do what feels right in each moment. Now that it has arrived, it’s a good moment to do a mental check in and engage in a process I try and do every birthday; to ask myself who I am today, who I was yesterday, who I want to be tomorrow and if I’m happy with that man.

Last year I wrote “Balance remains a challenge, but one that comes from a focus on intentionality as I work to protect energy for spaces, activities, and people that bring joy and growth while letting go of old narratives, hobbies, and habits that I’ve outgrown.” and while I’ve made progress here – this is very much still a key theme for me. But more on that in a bit.

What’s this post? As some of you have now come to anticipate – every year I publish a birthday reflection post. I hope you’ll enjoy these thoughts and take them for what they are – an attempt to share the world as I see it and how I relate to it. It’s a mixture of observations, musings, reflections, and advice. They’re extremely long and by all rights if I just broke them up into individual posts, I’d have more than 4 posts a year. But, this is the approach I’m sticking with and which actually gets pen-to-paper. Skip around, jump to what looks interesting, or take it from cover to cover. Your call =)

You can view my 39th birthday post here, 38th birthday post here, 37th birthday post here, 36th birthday post here, 35th birthday post here, 34th birthday post here, 33rd birthday post here, 32nd birthday post here, 31st birthday post here, my more detailed 30th birthday post here, my musings on turning 29 here, or 28 here. As well as a long-forgotten blog post written on my 23rd birthday (wow, have I really been blogging that long?) which you can view here.

Not to distract before we’ve even begun – but I also want to share a recent podcast I did with Matt Payne on F-Stop, Collaborate and Listen where we talk life, entrepreneurship, photography, and the creative journey. Watch it on YouTube, or find Matt’s beautiful summary and links to the podcasting platforms here.

Topics in this post:

Note: This post is LONG (as they always are). At 13440 words it is an extensive read. If you want a more approachable way – open it in Edge, right click over this text and click “Read Aloud”.

• Checking in with myself
• Turning 40 and becoming an uncle
• Creating space for connection
• Trained curiosity
• Remember to play
• Working to avoid stress burnout
• Contrarianism without integrity and creation is not innovation – it’s merely exploitative extraction
• Flawed incremental thinking is a gateway to enormous harm
• Consistency and coherence
• Empathy as the source of morality
• If it was another decade, who would they be?
• Continuing my critique around the toxicity of Rogan, Peterson and others
• ChatGPT (and others) as great sparring partners
• Ask vs. Guess culture
• An update on past and future books
• I finally made it to Japan – it’s silly why it took so long
• Final thoughts and gratitude

Let’s dig in…

Checking in With Myself

One of the things I love about a birthday, especially a birthday like 40, is that it’s a great opportunity to step to the side and introspect even more deeply than usual. Do, I like who I am? Do I like where I am in life? Do I like the things I’ve done? The direction I’m heading? More than that, I ask myself – if I stepped out of the door today and got hit by a bus and died, would I feel like I’d have lived a life well lived? And while I feel I’ve only begun to scratch the surface, when I look in the mirror today – I feel I can say I’d be content.

I view life as a rich tapestry being woven, and the sum of who I am, as the blending of threads of experiences, decisions, values, achievements, and relationships. Increasingly, and as I’ve written about in the past, I have also come to believe that we will experience the same situation very differently based on our age, and where we are in life. While in some areas that seems common sense, in others – such as travel and how we engage with and experience and perceive and are changed by a place it’s a bit less recognized. This also gives me a sense of urgency but also delight, knowing that even visiting the same places or experiences will evolve naturally as I do.

So, how is it going? 50+ countries and since January 2024 I’ve visited England, Germany, Spain, Slovenia, Italy, Norway, Japan, Mexico, Arizona, Sweden, Lithuania, and Finland for work and pleasure. I’m at 13.5 years lived abroad, 1.5 books written, 10 very successful years in my current work role, 29,500 photos published, hundreds of thousands of words written, and a sea of creative projects paired with a wealth of incredible friends. Love still alludes me – but the journey itself is a delight.

Beyond that – I am proud of who I am. Of my adherence to my values, and my understanding and introspection at a deep level about what they are and what matters to me. It’s a constant journey to be fair with myself, while pushing myself to improve, to grow, to challenge and update my beliefs, attack my biases, and seek out new paths to growth. And yet, I find that I’m content with that balance.

Where I need to establish better balance once again is in nurturing my creative self by returning work to a level that leaves me creative and social energy to not just maintain, but to nurture projects and new relationships. Clear back in my 35th birthday post I wrote about how I approach work/creative/relationship space and energy. I often reflect on that breakdown as I navigate my day-to-day work. Finding balance in general is always an extremely tricky thing. It often feels a bit like a snowball rolling down the hill, gaining momentum, and size with each rotation.

This past year work has definitely taken an increased amount of space, time, and mental energy. That culminated in the last 3 months where we brought to market one of our largest releases in several years. I expected my January, February and first few days of March to be intense and all consuming. Luckily, I’ve prioritized a workplace, industry, and country that values work-life balance and reasonable hours. But, even at that, the hours started to slip, a few tasks bled into the weekend, and the productive moments during the day – those that require intense energy and focus – grew leaving my remaining mental and social energy greatly reduced.

The task for myself now – and one I’ve anticipated since October – is the need to dial that back to a normal healthy balance. To focus on being productive and delivering at a top level – but one that also protects my space for balance. Quite frankly, it’s not easy. Especially because there’s always one more excuse to re-engage, one more pending task, one more last minute project that needs to be addressed. Beyond that, if you’re a very skilled specialist, or a highly competent generalist – there’s always a surplus of work waiting on the wings. It’s easy to feel guilty, to feel the imposter syndrome rage, to push yourself to stretch and to easily justify each new stretch and the momentum. But ultimately, I think of a few thought exercises I now regularly reference. One of these is in the form of our internal battery.

Turning 40 and Becoming an Uncle

2024 ended on a pivotal note – I became an uncle! It’s a moment that, in many ways, is world-changing. On several levels, I’m still processing it. As the oldest sibling with older parents, it’s a unique experience to have this arrive later in life. For many, becoming an aunt or uncle happens much earlier (often in their 20s) and so the timing adds an extra layer of reflection. There’s a striking contrast between the expectations we absorb from stories and friends, and the quietly surreal moment of living it yourself.

I’m incredibly proud to see my brother stepping into fatherhood. The way he nurtures his daughter, the calm strength he brings, the gentle protector he becomes. How he reflects on our upbringing and thoughtfully integrates those lessons into his parenting journey. Watching his daughter grow, seeing how her awareness sharpens and her gaze becomes more curious each week — it’s a joy.

There’s also something deeply moving about seeing our parents engage with her, preparing to journey across the Atlantic to meet her. They’ve always been respectful of our independence, generous with space, and supportive of our happiness. Yet, with that generosity comes a quiet ache. Older parenthood brought advantages — stability, wisdom, maturity — but also uncertainty. At 85, I know Dad wondered whether he’d ever meet a grandchild — whether the journey he started with us would continue in a way he could still witness.

Turning 40 feels like looking into a mirror. I’ve written before about my restlessness, curiosity, and a deeply independent lifestyle. I love the freedom I have, the work I choose, the ability to travel spontaneously. These are privileges I don’t take for granted. But I also recognize the beauty in parenthood — in co-creation, in evolving through shared responsibility. The life I love wouldn’t vanish in that transition; it would transform.

So I find myself asking: does meeting my niece increase my urgency to find a partner? Or ease it? As a man, I recognize I may have more biological runway than some potential partners, but I also deeply believe that timing isn’t just about biology — it’s about shared readiness and questions of if-at-all.

I’ve always told myself I’d approach partnership more intentionally in my 40s. Now that I’m here, I’m not sure I feel any closer. It’s not that I’m closed off necessarily — there’s a degree of openness. But while I meet amazing women who spark connection and share values, I haven’t yet found someone with whom the full alignment of chemistry, priorities, lifestyle, and long-term potential truly clicks.

Instead, I’ve found deeply meaningful emotional and intellectual connection across a network of friends and past or present partners — some platonic, some romantic. Each relationship stands fully in its own truth — raw, authentic, and not pressured to be more or less than what it naturally is. Together, this network gives me a profound sense of connection and support — not as a substitute for a singular partnership, but as something uniquely its own. It doesn’t try to mirror a traditional relationship, and yet it brings depth, joy, and emotional resonance in a way I deeply value.

But here’s the catch-22: these relationships are meaningful. They sustain me. They’ve grown with me. And they make it harder to create space for someone new to step in fully. It wouldn’t be fair to expect one person to replace all those pieces but making room would also require a quite significant restructure across large swaths of my life. That creates a real tension for me – a desire to be open and create opportunity, but also a pragmatic and very real concern over the potential destabilizing opportunity cost that goes with it.

This, I suspect, is a challenge many people who’ve been single a long time face. The longer you go without relying on a single dominant romantic relationship, the more you build a rich, complex tapestry that is constantly evolving and changing. That can make the prospect of changing it, or putting it at risk destabilizing. On the flip side, I imagine it’s a very different kind of difficulty for those who’ve recently left long-term relationships — people for whom being alone feels like deprivation – getting dumped into a dark lonely isolated room, not freedom with a robust tapestry of social connections and people to challenge us and nurture us.

My end goal remains unchanged: a committed partnership, shared dreams, and — potentially — a family. But that’s also the paradox. I’m happy now. Fulfilled. That makes me wary of half-measures. Of relationships that fall into the gray area — neither expansive nor complete. I want to avoid a dynamic that narrows both of us instead of making us more whole. It’s of the utmost importance to me that any potential relationship allows both me and the potential partner to thrive and grow and evolve toward our most fulfilled lives.

I know it’s on me to create the space for that connection to emerge. But I wrestle daily with how to do that in a way that doesn’t unravel what’s already rich and meaningful.

Layered onto all this is the question of parenting and finding the right partner. For me, at least for now, it’s not something I want to pursue unless it’s within a deeply secure and long-term commitment. And of course, that is in direct conflict with my current status quo. So – it further adds complexity to the equation. It’s one I reflect on often, and that I find myself still processing. Still unsure about. What is the right balance for me? Where do I make intentional change, and where do I stay the course?

Beyond that, there is the evolution as we age and as our familial and platonic relationships also evolve. Meeting my niece illuminated so much. Gaining her in my life comes as this huge wonderful addition. But, I also am taking time to acknowledge that there is a small sense of loss — of the version of my brother and me that existed before. And yet, I wouldn’t change that for the world and there is even greater joy and richness in seeing our friendship deepen and evolve as the family expands.

In these first few months, I’ve felt a bit clumsy in how best to support him and his wife. I check in. I bring small meals. I wander through pharmacies and baby stores, bewildered, looking for some piece of a breast pump I don’t understand. There’s a certain amusement in the looks I get — a kind of quiet kindness in how strangers answer my inept questions. And even though she hasn’t spoken a word, this baby is already teaching me so much. Seeing the exhaustion, the sleepless nights, the mental load of parenting up close, I have even more awe for the single mothers I know. Their resilience is hard to fathom. That they do this — sometimes unsupported, sometimes in systems far less generous than Denmark’s — is nothing short of heroic.

So where does that leave me? I don’t have a tidy answer. I’m still processing. I’m honored to gain a sister-in-law and a niece. I’m filled with love, joy, and uncertainty. In some ways, I’m more restless now, not less. I’m less certain about what I want long term. But I’m more certain that I’m not ready to step fully into that next chapter — at least not yet. So for now, I’ll stay open. I’ll keep living fully, exploring freely. And I’ll continue to show up — imperfectly, lovingly — as Uncle Alex.

Creating Space for Connection

For three years my brother and I lived together here in Copenhagen. Two sizable men crammed into a 52 square meter apartment. Despite seeing each other regularly we set aside Sunday each week to meet up and take lunch together. At the time he was a student on a student’s budget, so we’d splurge and I’d take him for all you can eat running sushi. Over the years we’ve continued the tradition, even as he moved into his own place and has thrived in his career. Why? Because having that ritual and creating a unique third-space that we visit together one-on-one, which is different than our day-to-day, is invaluable.

Even when we lived together, the conversations we would have during Sunday Sushi were fundamentally different than the day-to-day chats. Some weeks, it’s just chit chat and catching up or ranting a bit about life in general. Other days we delve deep into our struggles, our challenges, our fears, our insecurities, or our aspirations. But, importantly, we have carved out a space where it’s not only possible but almost expected to check-in and engage in a different way than we would in our normal day to day.

It’s also equally important that it’s mostly 1:1 time. It’s not a space for partners or friends to join unless it’s a rare occasional exception. The richness of the conversation, the connection, and the fostering of unique rules for the space are a key part of the equation. The individual context isn’t as important as have a space and a cue.

Growing up we’d call it Special Time. It was an opportunity where we’d do something 1:1 with mom or dad. For mom and I, the ritual was often to head in to the super market and do some shopping or errands. I’d keep her company, we’d talk, wander the aisles, and get some fried chicken or stop at the burger place for a sit down burger. Maybe also a stop at the thriftshop to hunt for curiosities along the way.

Since I entered adulthood, there’s a similar version with Dad. Seated on the back porch of the house, or behind the trailer looking out on the sea if we’re traveling – we’d take a cigar, sit, and talk 1:1 about life. Big things, small things, and all inbetween. Over time, that’s changed and evolved. But the context, the space, and the cues remain the same.

As a family, it’s something we’re mindful of. Something we talk about and something we always try and make sure there’s time for. If you’re already doing it in your own close relationships – great. If not, consider adding it. It’s special, it’s powerful, and it’s something very very different from group activities, conversations, or time together.

Trained Curiosity

In Copenhagen, there are a series of five shallow lakes divided by bridges and ringed by walking paths with benches. Most Sundays after sushi, David and I walk down to the lakes and continue our chat. This past autumn we found ourselves seated on a bench beneath the boughs of one of the giant horse chestnuts looking out on the lake. There was a breeze playing across the water. And as it did, an interesting pattern emerged on the surface of the water. The slight chop, and sandpaper like texture of the water smoothed dramatically about 6 feet out from the vertical edge of the path. Even as gusts blew, and the wind swirled, that straight line was visible up and down the length of the lake to either side of us.

Eventually, one of us made an observation on it. But it quickly became clear we’d both been sitting observing the same thing. From there we discussed the potential cause – was it related to the shallowing of the water? Was it the heat of the stone retaining wall? Was it the wind bouncing off the wall and deflecting back on itself? The humidity and temperature difference caused by the chestnuts creating an invisible barrier? It was an interesting thought exercise. A way to challenge ourselves, to increase our understanding and a nice way to enjoy the experience of the moment with a deeper richness.

It stands out in my memory as the manifestation of a key skill we were raised with. From our earliest childhood mom and dad positioned themselves as facilitators of observation. They encouraged us to look at the world, to ask how it worked, to explore it, to consider the cause and effect, and to pick up on the spaces around us. That as we sat there, we both had done just that – noticing the water, observing the wind, then wondering on the interplay between the two was clear evidence to me it was a trained behavior. One that has served us both very well throughout our lives.

How different that experience was, than that of the many folks passing by or sitting to either side of us. Did they notice the wind? The pattern in the water? Did they ask why or how? Or did they simply not see it. Not question it. Not observe it. And how does that difference shape other aspects of our lives?

Remember to Play

As adults, the world becomes more and more serious. Our obligations grow greater with every passing moment. As we become more adult, it becomes so easy to change our play time from just that – play – into refining or working on a craft. The two are similar, but there’s a level of intentionality in the craft, vs. carefree exploration in play – that I think are very different.

The two work side by side to help us and invigorate us. Play often requires honing skills and acquiring knowledge – but it’s more than just that. In the context of a video-game, simply working on honing a skill or craft would be the player who gets pleasure from the status and reward via the sense of completion. They are purely focused on the most efficient way to grind through the levels. In contrast is the player who enjoys the journey, who embraces the inefficiency, and who relishes the side quests and distractions along the process. The player who loves to play.

I was reminded about this distinction several times this past week. I ran into a friend in his late 40s. When I asked how his weekend plans had been, he said he’d just bought one of the major Lego sets. His eyes lit up as he explained the setup he had in mind and the work he was doing to assemble and tweak the kit. He was filled with pure playful joy. During a conversation with a different friend about hobbies and projects, he bemoaned his lack of side projects. A sentiment I hear quite often. But, it’s one that I think is a shame because it speaks to choices that lack opportunities to tinker, to experiment, to randomly play.

So, take this as your reminder – or nudge – to start changing how you see the world. To embrace opportunities to play, and to nurture new ones. Don’t limit yourself, don’t get lost in the logistics or semantics and grind. Just play, nurture your curiosity, doodle, create, build, make airplane noises as you bike to work and laugh at the nonsense of it. Embrace and laugh at the journey as you go. It will bring richness and joy to what you’re doing and help you thrive in other parts of your life.

Working to Avoid Stress Burnout

Surrounded by incredible, talented, brilliant, successful people, I’ve seen a large percentage of friends in the latter half of my 30s go through moderate to severe burnout. As talented knowledge workers and over achievers I think the vast majority of us have brushed up against the ragged edge of going down with stress or burnout – even if we didn’t realize it at the time.

The most compelling research I’ve seen suggests that more than specific workload of tasks, one of the greatest predictors of a catastrophic burnout is prolonged uncertainty and ambiguity. Through introspection, and a large number of conversations with friends at every stage of the process – from the lead up to, denial, midst of, and then recovery – I’ve come up with two dimensions of thinking about work/life balance that help me and seem to help friends.

The first is one I use and reference often: That’s the well worn idea of sand in the shoes. Anyone who has walked on a sand dune or on the beach with their shoes on will know this to be true. At first it seems relatively easy. But, the more you walk, the more each step flicks a few grains of sand up and into your shoes. A few steps more, a few more grains of sand. Before long, that easy walk seems anything but. Your shoes are much heavier, much less comfortable, and when you eventually tire and pause to take them off and pour them out, half the sand dune dumps onto the ground. It doesn’t matter which adage you go with – death by a 1,000 cuts or shoes full of sand, it all gets to the same point. There is a cumulative power to things and context matters.

The second is a bit more novel. Most of us talk about our energy – social or otherwise – in the context of a battery. But, when I thought about recharging my energy level and everything it takes to make that happen, I realized that the analogy was doing a poor job capturing a challenge I faced. Sure, I could take a weekend or a week away to “recharge my battery”. It did the trick – partially. But, I noticed that there was a key lack of resiliency in that recharge that was not reflected and was in some ways actively misleading. It’s that feeling of – “How can I be tired or stressed or exhausted – I just got back from a week of relaxing and couldn’t sleep anymore!” A sentiment that I’m sure is a bit familiar.

This is where I started to think about it as two different batteries (it may have been novel, or may have been something from the Knowledge Project or a like-kind podcast). Of these two batteries, one is a smaller quick charge battery. It recharges quickly, it’s perfect for day-to-day, and weekly activities, and it’s the one we use the vast majority of the time. This quick charge battery is the one that a good night’s sleep or long weekend can recharge and it’s the battery that is most visible to us.

The second is a very slow charging, high power, backup battery. That auxiliary battery is the one we turn to when we’ve drained the quick charge battery, or when we have a mountain to climb, or a marathon to run. It’s a big battery and it’s slow and hard to drain. But, it’s also very hard to recharge and can’t be recharged in the same way. The fact that recharging it is so difficult and takes an entirely different approach is significant.

So, how do these two interplay? In our day-to-day lives, work and otherwise, we operate off of the quick charge battery. A particularly socially draining week or a small project at work that runs over is no problem. When the quick charge battery is running low, the backup battery picks up the slack. And it works great. We then wrap up the big project, take some time to recharge, and we’re back in action.

The problem comes when we run that battery down and it moves from green, to yellow, to orange. We’re so used to having the battery there supporting us, that we never recognize that what we think is a yellow is probably an orange, and an orange charge, is probably red and on the cusp of an empty battery. We also make the mistake of assuming we can recharge that battery easily and in the same way. And the unfortunate reality is, that once we’ve run that battery down the quick charge battery ceases to function properly as well. It’s when people collapse. It’s why they go down hard, and why the recovery from stress lasts anywhere from 8 months to two years.

So, what helps prevent that? Thinking of the two batteries operating in tandem. Being mindful that it’s OK and you shouldn’t expect a week of relaxing to fully recharge you after a period where you’ve heavily used that deep charge battery. More than that, use it as a lens to understand why you can take a few days off, be refreshed and restless, but still be drained. Also, use it to check in with yourself – how the activities in your life are using your batteries and where you’re drawing energy. Are you the type that subsists off dipping into that deep charge battery all the time? Could you dip into it more often?

And then, consider and be intentional about how you protect and make time to allow for that gradual recharge. For changes, temporary or permanent, that allow you to funnel the trickle of energy to protect and power that battery in a give-and-take pursuit of balance. Doing so not only ultimately helps make us more resilient – it also protects us from injury and harm in a physical, professional, and relational sense.

Contrarianism Without Integrity and Creation is not Innovation – It’s Merely Exploitative Extraction

Our conversation about contrarians is not only deeply flawed, it’s intellectually dishonest and structurally corrosive. Over the last several decades the tech and financial sectors have seen the rise of a predictable class of parasitic individuals who rail against the establishment and claim to be great contrarians. They derive their success – and that success is often significant – through contrarian acts that go in the face of the status quo. The system, they say, is dumb, it is weak, and only great minds are positioned to have the innovative mind to drive change and create opportunity.

These individuals set themselves up as individuals in the contrarian tradition, who have gone against the status quo and changed the course of history. People like Galileo, Darwin and Einstein. But, they rarely have anything in common. Today’s contrarians like Thiel and his disciples, most of whom hide behind a false application of libertarian ideals, are not great innovators who have achieved a profound insight and used that evidence to drive innovation and correct flawed ways of thinking. They’re highly intelligent parasites that leverage the idea of being contrarian to justify and distract from actions that are instead purely exploitative.

If all society is fundamentally facilitated by some degree of collective trust, then there will always be inherent opportunities to exploit that trust for personal benefit. Particularly if you operate in a gray zone that is not sufficiently overt in its violation to collapse the system or elicit a corrective response (eg commit armed robbery), but allows you to exploit the system. Similarly, your willingness to violate the norms that allow that system to function and exploit that is not a beneficial skill or trait. It is a predatory one.

To illustrate this, I want you to visualize one of those free libraries that people sometimes create. A lovely small nook in a shop, or along a road, where you can leave a book or two and take a book or two for free. There is no regulation, restriction, or control outside social norms, practice, and trust. The system works because the vast majority of individuals act in good faith supporting the continuance and healthy growth of the system.

Enter the predator. Where the others have seen and engaged in a collaborative effort. The predator claims “Hah! How foolish and silly.” He sees opportunity for self gain, and because there are no legal limits on who can take a book or how many, he takes the entire library, emptying it into his truck. A few feet down the road, he sets up his own stand and now sells those same books for $1 a piece. He may then go on to sell all the books and claim himself a great business man and financial success and yet – he’s broken the very system he critiqued as foolish and was required to achieve his success. The free book exchange is broken. Unless, of course, he’s able to wait for it to be reset before he can swoop in again to restock his own store.

There is nothing about his success that stems from his own merit. It is purely his willingness to exploit and violate the system, the very system he’s critical of because of the ability to exploit it, that allows him any measure of success. As a result, his success is entirely dependent on future exploitation.

These individuals hide behind the false narrative that they drive efficiency, that they embody capitalistic values, and that the are engines of disruption and innovation. Each of these is largely false. They are not operating in a capitalistically grounded value exchange. They corrupt and destroy functional and highly valuable systems while extracting inefficient but concentrated value and they foster inefficiency because the only solution is increased regulation, reduced trust, and direct oversight which they in turn rail against because it limits their ability to act.

So, when you see someone held up in modern society as a great contrarian, I hope you’ll look deeper and ask yourself – is this someone worth admiring? Is this someone worth celebrating who is moving society forward to new levels of science or innovation? Or is this just a pathetic crook who owes their success and wealth to masquerading as a contrarian. Look at what they’re attacking, what they’re railing against, and their narratives surrounding their own success. Time and time again you’ll see that their success is entirely based on their exploitation of the systems they rail against. That they create little real value, and are enormously detrimental to everything they profess to support. You’ll also see them react most strongly to anything that seeks to hold them to account – not out of a desire to spur their own innovation, because they have none, but rather to protect their ability to exploit the gray areas.

Flawed Incremental Thinking is a Gateway to Enormous Harm

On the topic of substance contained in arguments, I’ve come to see a large part of people’s susceptibility to right wing narratives and conspiracy nonsense through the lens of an inability (or at times refusal) to carry out multi-dimensional analysis and thinking and to force coherence. The allure and sweet spot for Rogan, Peterson, Trump etc. is in bombarding us with a stream of individual statements that sound compelling or reasonable in isolation.

But, there are a ton of of key issues with this approach and these statements. Most, quite simply, just don’t hold up. Others have huge issues if you consider them in a wider context. There are either major contradictions, the statements are flat out false, or they are based on false narratives and premises. Then an entire worldview or argumentative chain is built on that false initial premise.

While we all have our cognitive biases, there are clearly groups that have an increased susceptibility. When we look at the current cultural discourse, you have individuals who are very susceptible to this type of narrative in conflict with those who are resistant to it. Interestingly, super narrow highly intelligent folks and relatively low IQ folks both tend to fall into this category for opposite reasons but due to similar blind spots. One group has deep arrogance and stealth insecurity stemming from their level of expertise in a narrow area. Mastery of cause and effect in that narrow context can lead to a blindness regarding the complexities of the wider landscape and interconnectedness. The other group is broadly confused by how the world works, overwhelmed by cause and effect, desperate for a sense of control and empowerment, and lacks the breadth of knowledge and mental compute power to evaluate the multiple considerations simultaneously.

Malicious and exploitive influencers capitalize on these behaviors by gradual incremental nudging. I think of it a bit like when you’re wiggling a car or dresser. As a single individual it’s impossible to walk up and just move one of these objects. However, you can rock/wiggle a very heavy object and “float” it to the total opposite of where it started with small nudges. Each incremental nudge doesn’t feel like much of a change, but cumulatively can result in quite drastic changes quickly. If you purely look at the dresser or car you’re convinced it hasn’t moved. But, if you take in the wider setting around it, you can notice the change. I talk about this as “if, if, if, if, if” (fragmented thinking) vs. “if, but, and, then. If, but, and, then.” (contextual multi-dimensional reasoning). Conspiracy theorists, Rogan, Peterson, Trump and the like, all operate heavily in an if, if, if, if narrative universe. If they resonate with you consistently, you’re also probably operating in that type of thinking. Digesting each argument – each ‘if’ – in isolation. This allows for the feeling of being critical, without actually being critical in a functional way. It also opens the door for a proliferation of contradictory positions and beliefs.

With this, I don’t mean to imply that sound reasoning and decision making is limited to broad highly intelligent and average IQ folks. Rather, that there’s a certain inherent priming effect and bias that is more likely and seems to self sort. Overcoming that means acknowledging our biases and tendencies, and then working to overcome them. A bit like putting on a pair of glasses if your eyesight isn’t perfect. There’s no shame in needing the glasses. But there is a definite cost and shame if you need them, but choose to drive without them anyhow.

Consistency and Coherence

Broadly speaking, I’m of the opinion that the current obsession with stoicism is widely abused and misused / cherry-picked for convenience. But, in the context of worldview and aspirations, I do find it a useful lens to surface a core piece of my value set. I believe deeply that the full span of an argument or belief, its context, and its outcomes have to be coherent. When we act illogically, we must honestly acknowledge it instead of covering it up with excuses or performative rationalizations.

If we look at this through an overall stoic lens, there are a few key principles: consistency in internal narrative (logic and coherence), consistency in external actions (virtue and pragmatism), pragmatic accuracy and realism, and avoiding contradictions to achieve eudaimonia (flourishing).

As I choose to apply this, it goes back to elements of the “if, but, and then. If, but, and then” way of thinking I talked about in the previous section. I ask myself: does this new piece of information support or disrupt my existing internal narrative? And if so, is it accurate? Does it reflect a realistic view and critique in good faith? And if not, then how do I update those beliefs to avoid contradictions — with a focus on accuracy based on what has come before, what is visible in the moment, and what are likely possible future outcomes?

Ultimately, this gives me a much clearer lens to see the world through and to adapt to the world as it evolves. It helps me make more accurate decisions while also helping me ensure I have a consistent and deeply supported worldview and belief system that is fully aligned to reality. In this way, it’s a blend of evolutionary theory, stoic philosophy, and anthropological reflection operating in tandem.

If I map that to how I then experience some conversations — it’s a bit like having a set of blocks with incremental numbers on them. The task is to line those blocks up in ascending order from 1–20. If you understand that the end goal is 1–20, and that each block has to be incrementally lined up, it makes your overall analysis much easier. But folks who only look at one or two blocks at a time are likely to jumble the order and its placement. Meanwhile, others who incorrectly misread a 6 as a 9 and become ideologically attached to that error are doomed to create entirely different orders to affirm that choice.

The greatest challenge — but also constant opportunity for growth — with this approach is in how we approach uncertainty and bad outcomes. Telling ourselves a convenient lie, or rewriting history to excuse or justify a failure or bad outcome, is far more comfortable. While becoming comfortable with the things we don’t know, honing the skillset to effectively seek out answers where they’re available, or updating our mental models to account for that uncertainty is something that requires work, internalized self-confidence, and maturity.

Empathy as the Source of Morality

Given the wider context of the principles they stand for, and the agenda they’re attempting to put forward, it isn’t surprising (but is disappointing) to see empathy being attacked right now. While these anti-empathy narratives are coming from grifters and predators posing as innovators, clergy, or intellectuals, the sad reality is that their assault on empathy will resonate with those who either lack integrity and a deep moral fabric, or who fail to understand the pivotal role empathy plays in civilization.

I believe that, as individuals, we have to make a choice. Are we going to be moral individuals and live moral lives, or are we going to pay lip service to the performance of morality while exploiting the nuances of dogma to empower our own self-interest? I also strongly believe that we need to aspire to be as consistent and coherent in our approach to morality as possible.

Contrary to how we often discuss it in society, I found religion was (when it is at its best) an intermediary and translator in that journey, not the source. At the end of the day, those who are critical servants of the truth find their way to some formulation of the golden rule — do unto others as you would have done unto yourself. Not, as is often misapplied in the form of its immoral cousin — do unto others as you believe they might do unto you, – do it first, exploit weakness, and relish any benefits you can secure.

But, what’s the root of the golden rule? What makes it universal, powerful, and something that moves beyond our familial groups, social groups, religious groups, natural groups, and species? What simultaneously holds an accurate explanation for both non-theistic evolutionary evaluation and religious dogma?

That is empathy. The root of cognition. Our ability to not only have a thought, but to be aware of our place in the world as actors in it, while simultaneously co-sharing that space with other creatures. This means that morality, at its core, emerges from empathy — our uniquely human ability to recognize ourselves as conscious actors in a shared world and to imagine the experiences of others. From this foundation, moral action becomes a process of minimizing mutual harm and maximizing shared flourishing through honest, relational awareness.

So, while your god and religion may serve as translators (or perhaps you may believe originators), the single greatest way to evaluate the relevance and authenticity of that translation and narrative is simple. It’s to hold that up to a critical and honest analysis and to ask — how does this action impact me, what does it cost me, how does it impact them, what does it cost them, and where is the midway point that reduces the maximum amount of harm, allowing us both to thrive.

In a predictable but comical twist; if you earnestly apply first principles (which folks like Musk are constantly giving lip service to but failing to apply) to questions of morality, you end up with empathy. The catch here is that empathy-derived morality is more likely to require compromise and to challenge individuals who are either in a dominant power position, or who are exploiting the system and their advantages. When you add in layers of authority, in-group dynamics, and identity, then you can quickly claim moral superiority or corrupt and co-opt themes in the name of personal gain.

In short, the more excessive and unchecked my success, the more there is a requirement for self-enforcement for moral action or the need for social intervention to force moral action. Which is where the mechanism of religion, government, or constructive social movements come in. After all, what is religion if not a moral framework for guidance and enforcement?

It isn’t a coincidence that individuals who dislike being told no, who reject the idea that they may enjoy some sort of preferential benefit and status, and who actively want something that significantly harms or disadvantages others, will reject the concept of empathy. In the same way, these same individuals give lip service to being ardent defenders of free speech when it enables them to overreach or secure personal advantage — but are always the quickest to bar actual free speech when it is critical, inconvenient, or detrimental to them.

This is also where the previously mentioned point about limited incremental thinking comes in. If you’re operating where each action or point is considered without broader context — there’s minimal differentiation from a critique of one set of advantages or behaviors or limitations and the sum of your experience. If you’re operating from a place of contextual, multi-dimensional reasoning, that’s not an issue because you’re mindful of the full picture. In that context, I can see and understand clearly that two things can be true, e.g., I can be a white male who benefits from a wide range of advantages. But, I can also encounter many individual situations where more narrow limitations or hindrances do not seem fair. It is not only possible but inevitable to have advantages, and still struggle. And yet, when we foster a more equitable and inclusive outcome for everyone participating in good faith — we all collectively benefit through a multiplier effect.

This is where the message being fed, especially to white men, currently by self-serving influencers, corrupt fundamentalists, negative role models, and purveyors of bullshit, cherry-pick, distort, and rely on sloppy and incomplete narratives to facilitate grift, abuse, entitlement, and attacks in deeply unethical and immoral ways.

I also find that those individuals most prone to exploiting empathy and criticizing it are often the ones that are most prone to demand it and most likely to lash out when they don’t receive it.

Ultimately, fostering an honest and coherent conversation with yourself and your peers about empathy and coherent behavior is a lens which I find an essential tool for acting with integrity. As I wrote in my 37th birthday post, “Aspire to Lookback with Pride” using this lens consistently fosters a level of integrity that I hope my 100 year old self can look back on with pride.

If it was Another Decade, Who Would They Be?

I’m increasingly making the decision to end relationships based on insights into individuals’ character and values. Support for the MAGA movement, and the GOP in its current form, has become a litmus test that goes far beyond a misalignment in basic political policy preferences. This increasingly has deep ramifications for relationships more broadly and is also reflected in the data we see about the gender divide in dating in the US, and the choice by a growing number of women (predominantly but not exclusively) to leave existing relationships which are no longer compatible. While this seems drastic and severe, it’s actually far more reasonable the more you look at it. I now ask myself — knowing what I know about this person, and the values they’re both endorsing and OK with — if it was 1920, would this person have been a card-carrying member of the KKK or a kindred organization?

But first, let me elaborate a bit on how I got to that point. While I see history and social movements as a pendulum that swings from side to side, the nature of those swings and the good or bad that comes can be small or it can be enormous. While progress itself over time is almost guaranteed, the speed of that and the recovery after a major setback can take lifetimes. And yet, it’s also important to look back through history and to draw key lessons from it while also using it as a lens for better understanding today.

No two moments in time are ever identical, just as no two social movements are. The nuances of a society — of global technology, population numbers, and knowledge — are always evolving. And yet, we are basic animals — creatures of habit that tend to repeat the same mistakes.

Donald Trump was 18 when segregation ended. He was 20 when interracial marriage became legal. For young and middle-aged people in the US, it’s easy to forget that the older generation in the US spent their formative years in a country that was undergoing drastic change — one that was also profoundly racist, and that racism was baked into the institutional apparatus.

A few decades earlier, during the first quarter of the century, as much as 40% of white males in some states were KKK members — a figure that has, sadly, gained renewed importance.

As the far right and fascist/nationalist groups have hijacked and re-formed American conservatism in their own image under the MAGA movement, we’re seeing a re-litigation of the toxic, hateful, and vile rhetoric and policies that had been banished to all but the fringes of society over the last half-century.

But as the MAGA and other racist, nationalistic platforms around the world find renewed success and support, two important things are happening with a subset of the population —

• Individuals who are not overtly racist, sexist, bigoted, or prone to fascist principles have been co-opted into the movements, radicalized, and nudged into tolerating what would have been reprehensible even a few years ago.
• Individuals who have always been deeply racist, sexist, bigoted, or prone to fascist ideology are now feeling empowered and emboldened to de-mask.

Of these two groups, the first may be redeemable — especially if you take into consideration the nudging effect and some of the radicalization traps I talked about earlier in the post. The second is an unmasking, where we see individuals’ true selves — what they’d have always done or believed when no one was looking. But in both cases, the outcome is largely the same: these individuals have made a series of value-based decisions on what matters and what does not to them. And they are enabling and facilitating gross levels of harm and injury.

Simply put? If a friend and I were teleported back to 1920 and that friend chose to join the KKK — I don’t care what mental gymnastics they use to justify why they joined. You can almost hear it, right? The disingenuous, “I don’t believe everything they stand for, but they’ve got some pretty good ideas in a few places, and the social events are great and that’s OK.” They were still an active and participating member of the KKK. And would that be a deal breaker for you? It would for me.

So — today, the name of the movements has changed. The terminology they’re using has been carefully laundered and repackaged. But the principles are the same. And the individuals that think that is not only OK, but who are actively facilitating it, are telling me what their true character is. How they’d act when no one was looking. How they see the world. How they choose to engage with the world.

If a crime is committed — a bank robbery, or an act of premeditated violence — even the driver who stayed in the car shares guilt for the crime. Continued support and facilitation of hate-filled, morally reprehensible acts shares complicity in the act. To tolerate and empower sexual predators, criminals, bigots, and racists is to share their evil even if you don’t practice it yourself. And to continue to do so — even worse, with zeal — in the face of constant evidence is, for me, to cross a line in the sand and show me your true face.

Continuing my Critique Around the Toxicity of Rogan, Peterson and Others

In my 38th birthday post I spoke about the allure of conspiracy and the toxicity of Rogan, Peterson and those like them. Since I’ve delved a bit deeper in this post in related topics, and since we’ve now seen the continued deterioration of these individuals’ coherence and more clarity about their actual positions, I also want to share a simplified way of thinking about it. Over the past couple of years the response has often been – “Sure, sure, they say some stuff that’s quite toxic or flat out false – but other parts are just fine, fun or really useful”.

If you want to understand the real harm you’re doing to yourself with Rogan etc. here’s a fresh way of explaining the problem which I hope makes identifying the risk and threat more accessible:

There’s a restaurant in town. That restaurant is owned by the chef who is also the cook. The Chef chooses the dishes on the menu, orders the ingredients, preps them, and cooks each dish. He’s also, by all accounts, very good at what he does. BUT, the restaurant comes with a few added rules. Somewhere between 30 – 70% of the entrees will make you ill or harm you. This ranges from a little stomach unrest you barely notice, to straight to the hospital for antibiotics. The remainder of the dishes are Michelin level. The menu is blinded, and you don’t have any idea what you’re ordering or going to get. The chef? He claims it’s not his responsibility, and that he’s just a purveyor of a space and service for flavors. The illness comes from a mixture of things – hygiene, expired ingredients, parasites, or outright dangerous ingredients like fugu. The place is super trendy, the plating for all the dishes is fantastic, and the food across the board tastes really good.

In these situations someone like Rogan or Peterson is the restaurant owner and chef. Each dish is an episode or an interview. And you’re the diner repeatedly eating at the restaurant.

ChatGPT (and others) as Great Sparring Partners

Even as I assemble this post – a string of thoughts and observations drawn from what I’ve been thinking about this past year – there are periodic statements or points I want to validate. Has the explanation I’ve written about stoic influences accurately reflected a coherent application? Do my historical parallels make sense and are they accurate or misleading?

To this end, the power of ChatGPT is in the quality of your prompt and using it as a hybrid search tool and editor all at once. As the old saying goes – garbage in – garbage out. To that end, it’s essential to avoid confirmation bias in how you structure your prompt. And in some cases, that means a prompt, to prepare your prompt.

If I want to double check and ensure that I’m making a coherent or fact-based argument – it’s essential that I also act in good faith and with intentionality when structuring the prompt. I do this by keeping my prompt relatively neutral and open. I don’t want to guide it to a conclusion. In this way I want to use open vs. definitive language. Such as “Is it true that [point] is true, what evidence supports this claim and what are potential contradictory arguments?” vs. “This [point] is true, give me reasons”. I can also invite it to feed me information, but have to be careful and critical in what it shares. Let’s say I’ve heard a conspiracy and want to check on it.

I might ask – “I heard a conspiracy that the earth is actually 6,000 years old. Is there any evidence for this?” After reviewing the response, I might further ask “Elaborate on common arguments used to justify the conspiracy and provide me a refutation where one exists. Flag any that make strong or compelling arguments and are not refuted by current evidence.”

Try the two prompts above yourself – and see what the responses look like.

If I know what I’m asking is a bit contentious or tends to have a lot of disinformation or misunderstanding around it – I’ll also ask ChatGPT to help me refine it. I might ask it, say “I want to have the most accurate and factual answer possible. Please provide suggestions on how to improve my prompt or further clarifications that would help me reduce bias.” and the other trick I use regularly is to ask it, “To your point about the historical framing. Help me strongman my argument and provide 5 points of evidence that confirm my narrative, and 5 (if they exist) that show it is historically misplaced or inaccurate.”

Ultimately – I find that in its current incarnation ChatGPT / Perplexity / Claude can be great for this. If you’re in the US Google’s Learn About is also fantastic. These are great tools for honing and fact checking your world view, but they’re also an amazing tool for checking statements made on things like podcasts and youtube videos.

While largely true now – this is unfortunately also where one of the next digital misinformation wars will rapidly emerge. Both in shaping the data set, but also intentionally overwriting it and biasing it as opposed to efforts to counteract or neutralize/minimalize bias. Musk and influencers within the disinformation wing of the far right ecosystem have already stated that they’ll aim to modify LLMs selectively. We also know that China has actively added censorship layers to remove certain topics or events. Ultimately, this will be the biggest threat to the value of LLMs and is likely to pose an even bigger threat to our societies and democratic societies than engagement algorithms. Not because of an inherent bias in the technology itself, but because bad actors survive off of co-opting and corrupting high utility tools, capabilities, and services.

Ask vs. Guess Culture

I stumbled on this concept earlier this year and have found it to be a fascinating insight into individual communication as well as cultural behavior and clashes. It draws in part on high-context vs low-context communication but is a bit more nuanced and sophisticated.

In essence the concept posits that you have a spectrum. On one end you have cultures that approach an ask as an inquiry, not a request. As long as it’s equally ok to refuse a request as accept it, there’s no harm in asking the question. These are also often more low-context cultures, where there is a focus on directness and low-context communication. On the opposite end of the spectrum are guess cultures – these treat an ask as a request, not an inquiry. This implies an expected obligation to say yes, and conveys the association that the asker believes the answer will/should be yes. This approach is far more common in high-context communication, where things like social harmony, and indirectness are present.

Different regions have different cultural norms – with some being very ask-oriented, while others are deeply guess-oriented. But, even beyond that, as individuals we have ask vs. guess personalities and preferences. These often manifest in how we communicate in our relationships, what careers and job roles we’re well suited for, and can be a significant source of miscommunication and misalignment.

I’m definitely much more on the guess side of the scale. As a result, I find this as a thought exercise and check-in tool can be fantastically useful. Both in helping me avoid miscommunication or ambiguity when engaging with people or cultures that are more ask-oriented. While also helping me to identify and be mindful of where I may be overlooking important considerations when dealing with fellow guess-culture people. It also helps me calm my immediate reaction, potential indignation, and sense of conflict when I receive direct asks that take me off guard or feel like significant overreach – remembering that it may not be exploitative and may just be a neutral inquiry.

Where do you fall on the spectrum of ask vs guess? And what sort of culture do you come from, and exist in today?

An Update on Past and Future Books

It’s truly hard for me to believe it was 2017 when I wrote and released Practical Curiosity. In so many ways it still feels like I released it yesterday or just this past year. And yet it is rapidly nearing a decade since I first clicked publish, filled with fear it wouldn’t be liked or resonate and would be rejected.

Since then, the world has changed a lot. I’ve changed a lot. And yet – with a few small exceptions in several of the chapters, I still believe it is as relevant and valuable today as it was then and that is has held up extremely well.

This past week, I woke up to an interesting surprise e-mail. In it, Amazon – who I self published with – have extended an invitation to be an early adopter of a new AI-voice generated audiobook service. I was a bit skeptical, but I’ve long wanted to have Practical Curiosity be as available as possible. So – I’ve given it a go and while there are hints of it being an AI generated voice, I am massively impressed by the job they’ve done.

If you want to check it out, it’s available for $4.99 or included in Audible’s normal subscription coverage. The landing page for it is HERE and it should also appear on the standard overview page. If you check it out, let me know what you think and as always – a rating and review helps/means a lot!

But, what next?

I’m excited to tease that I’ve got a new project in the works. For the last half year (and some change) I’ve been hard at work compiling and researching information related to Denmark which I want to make available to a much wider audience. It’s interesting, it’s funny, and I can’t wait to share it with you. There’s still a lot of work to do – but I hope to have it ready to go out before the end of this summer.

I’ll be self-publishing it again, though I do not anticipate it will have a digital copy. It is Denmark themed, but not a travel or photography related project. It will, however, include a series of visuals which should delight. Stay tuned, and I’ll aim to share more soon.

I Finally Made it to Japan – It’s Silly Why it Took so Long

Shortly after undergrad some 15+ years ago, several friends went to teach English in Japan. Their experiences were incredible. At the time, I was still deeply intimidated by Asia and focused much more heavily on continuing my exploration of Europe. I missed a golden opportunity and it is one that has nagged at me ever since.

At the outset, my resistance was three fold. It was the overall anxiety and misbelief that travel in Asia broadly would be difficult, challenging, with unpredictable stomach issues, and overwhelmingly paired with a general lack of interest. Over time, after my first visit that redefined my perceptions, I’ve returned to the wider region often and come to adore and be fascinated by it.

I also harbored a bias because of the conduct and association I saw surrounding a subset of western men who have always grossed me out. Apparently the Japanese now have a name for them – LBHs – or Losers Back Home. This subset of guys bring an extremely creepy energy and the exploitational vibe really shut down my interest in engaging with the plethora of subcultures tied to Japan. And, to be clear, I in no way mean that the friends / majority of people who adore Japan and its many fascinating sub cultures and foods. But, as a gamer and a bit of a nerd, that negative association always led me not to engage.

Third – I also constantly heard that Japan was brutally expensive and very difficult to engage with. The content I saw talked either of sky high prices, or 7/11s with very little inbetween. Of infrastructure jam-packed with people and tidy but overwhelming. This led me to prioritize other Asian countries, particularly focusing on southeast Asia where my dollar (or Kroner) gave me maximum bang for my buck.

That all changed this past December. Three days before what would become my departure date, I found myself with a block of time off. My brother’s baby was due the end of the month, and I knew I wanted to be back in Copenhagen. Meanwhile I had work deadlines that confined me to a narrow slice of time. Those 9 days were floating, teasing me, as I tried to figure out what to do – what would energize me the most – and where to go. As the start of holidays got closer and closer I was lost in indecision. The options available were either too expensive, didn’t excite me, or had painful logistics. I kept delaying.

Most people plan trips far in advance and pick a destination and work backward from that. I often work the opposite. I rarely know my destination more than a month in advance – and usually its just a week or two. I use Google Flight’s open explore map – add some criteria like dates, # of transfers, length of trip, and max cost and then start playing. Layer in exploring how I can use miles, or multi-leg trips and it’s a bit of a process but usually lots of fun.

That’s when a new special popped up with ideal availability – a direct flight to and from Tokyo from Copenhagen, priced at 50% of the normal cost on SAS. It made the transit a mere 12 hours and would allow me maximum use of my week+ off. It was a bit more than I had planned to pay for the week and a half, but it also excited me in a way none of the other options at my finger tips did. I hesitated. I slept on it. Then, I booked it. My departure? A day and a half out.

I worried the December 7th trip would dump me in a frozen, snow covered Tokyo. That it would be expensive, grey and cold. And yet – I was excited. I was curious – I was finally going to get a brief taste of Japan and see Tokyo for myself. Oh how wrong I was! Admittedly, I got lucky. It was abnormally warm and that meant the leaves were delayed by 2 weeks and still in the final throws of their autumn glory. The days were crisp but gorgeous and the weather was fantastically kind to me.

As is so often the case – I was once again reminded that my perceptions, fears, biases, and expectations were everything but accurate. What followed was an amazing trip, that was ripe with beauty, adventure, and sparked my curiosity. Japan won me over completely, and spoiled me in the process with its unique charm. All via the most brief of glimpses – after all, what is 9 days in two cities?

So here are a few things that stood out for me:

It wasn’t nearly as expensive as I feared

There’s no question that Tokyo wasn’t cheap – and I have to remember it was off/saddle season. But, capital cities rarely are. I don’t require much from accommodation, and I prefer a grungy hole in the wall restaurant over a fancy meal on most days. During the week days I found a hotel room for about $80 a night. On weekends that spiked to $120. They weren’t incredible or in the hip districts, but they were conveniently located not far from the Kanda station. Later, when I got to Kyoto I had a similar accommodation for $40 a night.

The fast train between the cities was pricy – 2 hours for about $90. But even that was far from unreasonable. Food in the restaurants also ranged widely. A large delicious bowl of Ramen for $8, or Chicken Katsu and rice for $4 – far from unreasonable. Of course, there were many other options that were much more expensive, much fancier, and everything that goes with that as an experience – but I ate. And ate. And ate. And enjoyed enormously for less than I pay for daily lunch and dinner here in Denmark.

The metro transit system in both cities was also easy, convenient, and with data on my cell + the Suica card added directly to my Apple Pay made moving around a breeze.

Building in the valleys not the mountain tops or hillsides

When I looked at the Tokyo region during scouting on Google Maps – I saw what looked like a thick network of cities heavily connected by major arteries. I expected as a result the nature to be scarce, heavily intermixed with buildings and human impact, or where it was preserved and protected – that it would be extremely intentionally manicured and feel like a giant park.

And yet, during my 450km journey from Tokyo to Kyoto I saw something very different. Sure the towns and infrastructure were everywhere. But it looked and felt different. That’s when it clicked – the hillsides – they’re largely left preserved with most of the construction confined to the lower 1/3 and bottom of the valleys. The nature was everywhere, it was wild, and the mountainsides were largely pristine. Much more than you’d see in most European or American areas that close to major cities.

While I can’t speak to how the rest of Japan is – or why they do it this way, it stuck out to me as unusual. Is it due to the history of earthquakes? A regulatory consideration? Tied to the climate? Just a cultural quirk passed down through time? Either way – I was deeply impressed by how verdant and extensive the nature was.

When I open up Japan on Google Satellite view and re-visit what I saw before, I can see it through an entirely different lens. My assumptions had filled in the gaps with inaccurate information. And now I can very much see the draw of Japan as a destination for rich nature that is well cared for, but still retains its wild spirit and essence.

Food….food…and food

I know. I know. Japan is one of the world’s great food destinations, so how did it still manage to surprise me? In most cultures and countries you have largely recognizable food paired with one or two more unique sub-genres. These sub-genres typically also have a dining method or type of establishment associated with them. Broadly speaking, what I expected to encounter in Japan was similar to that. Sushi places, steak/grill places, and ramen/udon places. What I was met by was a far more vibrant and diverse range of entire genres of food and dish. Not only that, but the establishments serving each have vastly different personalities and contexts with some being entirely novel to me.

I was absolutely blown away and in the time I had, only managed to try about half of them. Beyond that, the quality, mix of flavors, and range of options was extremely wide and varied. Portions were consistently very robust and the staff always welcoming and friendly.

The highlight was a small sushi place I found under the metro line near my hotel. Packed with locals, it was standing only. On my first visit an older gentleman who said he was in his 80s struck up a conversation and shared stories of his time in the US 40 years ago. Meanwhile the two chefs prepared delicious nigiri at $.80 a piece.

Another involved stumbling on a supermarket on my way home in Kyoto. As I looked around, I realized they had an extensive deli and sushi counter. At one point using my phone I asked the guy working the fish counter if the octopus tentacle could be eaten as it was (it looked boiled, but just to be sure). He gave me the thumbs up, then gestured asking if I wanted it sliced. Sure enough, a few minutes later he’d sliced and re-packed it, grabbed several chopsticks, soy to go, and had me properly equipped as I continued to pick and add a mix of sliced and fully prepared options. From there, it was off to the Deli counter where it turned out they had warm rice as well as some tempura. My god, I ate well and extensively when I got it all back to the hotel.

There were highlights, but throughout I never really had a bad dish. Well – maybe one – but the laugh and novelty made it worthwhile. In Tokyo, I had seen a number of restaurants selling skewers. I figured it was a grill and on first glance the menu looked approachable. I tried one place, but it was packed. Then I went to another around the corner, and figured – the menu looked (visually) similar in Japanese. Little did I know, it was a bit different, and the menu was almost exclusively offal which also surprised me initially as the place was about 80% groups of women eating.

I shrugged – I was already seated – too late now.

They served me cabbage and water as the appetizer/accompaniment. I picked my skewers – tripe, tongue, liver, heart and figured I was set. As I did, I noticed that “rectum” was also on the menu. As unappetizing as the thought of most offal is, rectum definitely takes the cake. I chuckled, I decided I was good, I didn’t order it. A few later, the waitress came up, profoundly apologetic and said they’d made a mistake and put the tripe in as rectum and asked if I wanted it. I said yes.

Sure enough – the rectum was one of the better sets of skewers. It was tender, less dry than the others, and the flavor was actually decent – somewhere between chicken skin and tripe. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t that the meal was bad – it was that the opportunity cost of it compared to the alternatives was high because everything else was so good. So, there you have it. That’s how I went to Japan, and ended up eating rectum.

Incredible colors

While I associate Japan with the spring cherry blossoms – I had no idea just how gorgeous the autumn colors can be. While the north was based in a thick layer of snow, when I arrived in Kyoto I was greeted by a crisp but vibrant landscape in the midst of the final throes of autumn. While the autumn colors drew their own surge in tourists and fostered a mini-high season, it was well worth it and the crowds were mostly confined to scenic overlooks – leaving me to wander the temples, and side roots in relative peace.

While I’ll let the photos speak for themselves, the magic of the trip was further enhanced as I ran head-long into autumn colors that turned the entire experience into one cinematic moment after another as I wandered through gardens, temples, and along rivers bathed in a sea of falling and fallen golds, reds, and oranges.

Wonderful hospitality

I mentioned above that I never encountered the dismissive or exclusionary experience others have reported. Instead, I found people friendly, reasonably engaged for a big city, and still very respectful of space.

As luck had it, I also had the chance to start on the right foot. My first night, jetlagged, dazed and confused, an old buddy from my ASU ballroom/latin/swing dance days took me out and introduced me to my first Izakaya. As someone who had studied in the US, then returned to Japan, he shared great insights while simultaneously helping me break that invisible barrier that at times can be there when I don’t know the protocol for how certain restaurants or cultural spaces work. We caught up, had a few beers, swapped stories from the last decade+, and I got the lowdown on the parts of Tokyo to see. I also learned that Tokyo has its own unique approach to pizza, which I’ll have to make a trip back to try.

It cannot be overstated how powerful and meaningful these initial moments can be. Years ago upon my first visit to Southeast Asia, a dear friend from the US but visiting her family in Vietnam took me under her wing. She blasted away my fears, preconceptions, and opened the region to me in a way that would have taken days, if not weeks, to do on my own. It was the same with Hiro and Tokyo. Our chat, our time spent sitting in the Izakaya, fielding some questions, and sharing parts of his city and culture with me – it made me feel welcome, comfortable, and ready to explore. It welcomed me, and emboldened me to continue to explore and discover without fearing a risk of overwhelm.

To be a host, an ambassador, and a friend like that is a powerful gift. It’s also something where you become a part of that person’s memory and relationship with the place and culture. Every time I think of Tokyo, I’ll think of how Hiro welcomed me and introduced me to the city. Every time I think of Vietnam or my first trip to Asia – I think of Thao. How powerful is that? And it is a gift I hope I have shared with others and will continue to be able to share with others when they come and visit either me.

A country regaining momentum

When I arrived in Seoul, South Korea a year ago I was surprised that the hyper-futurism that people talked about did not match what I saw. Yes, it was impressive. Yes, there were big screens and some cool automation. But, compared to other fast-paced capitals in Asia, Europe and especially what I’d seen in Shanghai and parts of Beijing it was underwhelming. In many ways, I expected Tokyo to be the grander flashier, and even more over-the-top version of this.

What I found was something that felt a bit different. In the architecture, infrastructure, automation, electronics, and things inbetween I certainly saw that advanced dimension. As a fan of scifi – you can see the worlds that are built with heavy inspiration from Tokyo. But. I also felt like much of it stalled out some 15-20 years ago and has just persisted.

That’s not at all to say things were not flashy and up-to-date. Rather that it felt like….like things had gone through a wave of wild innovation and investment and growth, and then stalled. That they had rolled along updating slightly, but without any major systematic change at scale. That the economy as a whole had stalled and gone into partial stasis. In many ways it mirrored the depictions in scifi – of techno-advanced societies that had then crumbled slightly. Think Blade Runner or 5th Element or Altered Carbon.

At the same time, I also got the feeling that Tokyo is coming out of that stasis and starting to race forward again. There were lots of commercial towers going up, there was a feel of innovation and change filtering in, and I got a sense from the city that it was re-finding itself. It feels like 3 or 4 years ago that really started to change and now what was planned or started is becoming visible.

One interesting example of that was the 60th anniversary of the high speed Shinkansen trains. As I stood reading the signage on the platform celebrating the 60th anniversary it was a bit shocking. When you think of Japan’s famous high speed trains, I often think of them as a quite new addition to the scene. Something from the late 90s perhaps. But, far from it. As I stood there on the platform, I recalled my Dad’s stories from Japan during his trip in 1969/70. As he took that train, down that same line – it was just 3 years old. A marvel of the modern world. Now they’re looking at ways to roll out improvements that will update the line and the trains.

It was a fun thought. And also fun to think some 50+ years later, I was there speeding across the Japanese countryside in his footsteps.

Final thoughts and gratitude

As always, I’m impressed that any of you make it this far. 12,000+ words and musings condensed into a chaotic melting pot of ideas and stream of thought is no simple undertaking to work through. But, that is a common thread – I’m once again so grateful to you all for the time you invest in engaging with me, for your support, your feedback, your energy, and everything inbetween.

This past year was a fun one, a challenging one, and one full of fantastic wins. What’s to come in the year ahead? Who can say. Hopefully many more fantastic travels – even as I write these final notes, I’m doing last-minute packing for a week in Iceland. More fun podcast and creative knowledge sharing opportunities. More wonderful deep conversations and opportunities to explore the future of technology and how we engage with our society. By this time next year, hopefully a new book that’s out in the wild. And I hope more time for exploring deep relationships and new possibilities. I’ve also been away from dance since September due to a knee injury – the longest break since I started in 2004 – and it’s something I hope to get sorted soon and return to. It has been too long and I feel it.

This past year was also a fantastic one from a professional perspective. I worked on launching one of the company’s largest releases in years and we had a fantastic launch. I built out the intro video introducing our SLT which played on a 16 foot screen to an audience of 600+ colleagues and kicked off our company summit. I continued to navigate the balance between work and life and I celebrated 10 years in my current company – a wild achievement that I am proud of, have learned a lot from, and never thought would be the way my career played out.

Until next year, may the roads open up for you.

Every year I post 100 of my favorite photos from the year’s travels. As part of my photo-editing process, I edit my photos chronologically. This means that the more travel or photo-intensive my trips are, the longer it tends to take me to close out a year.

The post this year features photos from Denmark, China, Italy, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Norway, South Korea, and Turkey.

This post is part of an annual tradition.  For previous years, check out 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022 and of course, don’t miss the color post from 2023.

For my daily photo posts feel free to tune in and follow along via Instagram and Threads @virtualwayfarer.

Questions about how I composed or took a specific photo? Feel free to ask in a comment. You’re also encouraged to check out my complete flickr albums here which include the many other shots from 2022 (and previous years) which didn’t make it in this post. As you can imagine, picking “just” 100 photos for this is actually quite difficult!

As is true of my style more broadly, virtually every photo in this list is a single shot. I don’t do bracketing, blending, replacement or focus stacking. Nothing has been added/removed outside of correcting lens spots. Generally my edits focus on adjusting sharpness, contrast, dodging and burning, and some mild saturation and color enhancement to bring the photos closer to what I saw in the moment.

That’s a wrap for 2023! As always – let me know which are your favorites. For these photos I used a Sony A7R III camera with a mixture of lenses. These included a Sigma 100-400, a Sony 24-70 F4, Tamron 28-75 F2.8 and a Tamron 17-28 F2.8.

When I moved to Copenhagen and asked about the Aurora Borealis and if they were visible, most people shrugged and said no. A few said they occasionally could be viewed from the far northern tip of Jutland some 160 miles north-west. But, Copenhagen proper? That received a patient smile and chuckle. That – I was often told, was something you’d need to make your way to Norway, Sweden, Finland or Iceland for.

In fact, even as I was taking the photos in this blog post, I mentioned to a group of tourists who happened to be out late that they could see the northern lights. As I did the group of local guys sitting nearby overheard, laughed, and said I surely must be lying. Luckily, the proof was already there – a magical mixture of color and beauty ready to be shared on the back of my camera and painted in the nearby sky above.

I’d headed out in the hope of getting an image of the Perseid Meteor shower. It was August 12th and they were set to peak. We also had a rare thing in Denmark – a clear cloudless sky at night. Despite it being Monday evening with work in the morning, I figured it too rare a combo not to give it a go. I traded texts with my photo buddy Juan about the meteor shower, and we discussed the possibility of aurora I had little hope of seeing anything from the city. He was off to the northern part of the island, which with the increased level of solar activity has dark skies, long views, and during a strong solar period can deliver brilliant views. But, for me, it was into the city.

I’m so glad I opted to take the risk and roll the dice. Out of it, I’ve gotten some of the most unique photos of Copenhagen I think I’ve ever seen. Between the latitude, the strength of a solar storm required, the challenges with sea fog along the coast, urban light noise, clouds, and everything inbetween – managing an image of the northern lights in Copenhagen with a foreground is the great white stag of Copenhagen photography.

I set up to photograph one of my favorite spots in Copenhagen – the fountain of the Norse Goddess Gefion. As the myth goes, she was offered as much land as she could plow free from Sweden. So she turned her four sons into giant oxen, and then ploughed a huge swath of land free creating the island of Zealand where Copenhagen sits today. Sure enough, even as I set up I noticed the distinct green glow – ever so gently visible to the naked eye but radiant when viewed through a camera.

I sprang into action, with the aurora you never know how long they’ll last. They quite literally dance through the sky like giant sea serpents. So, I switched my settings, and started making images. It was only as they stayed with me ebbing and flowing for 30 minutes, then an hour, that I had the chance to really dial in on compositions and settings. All while hoping for a meteor or two in the mix – because, hey? Why not – it was what brought me out initially after all!

Eventually I made the decision to risk moving and sprinted to the nearby Ivar Huitfeldt Column with a winged Victory on top. Surrounded by cherry blossom trees, it’s most famous for the photos in spring and early summer. But, on this night, it served as a wonderful point of focus viewable from an elevated vantage point letting me include more of the aurora.

From there, it was a quick sprint down to see if the Little Mermaid might also be possible. Though to my distress, she’s fully lit at night by two giant floodlights. After the previous conversation with the tourists and local kids, I sprinted back and finished the evening with a few more of the fountain. By the time I finished it was close to 1AM with a 45 minute walk home and work at 9 but it was worth it. And even more wild, outside a few passing tourists, and a couple locals hanging out, there wasn’t another photographer to be seen in the full 3 hour period.

It’s been a few days now and I am still grinning ear to ear. What a special evening. One that will now forever be a treasured core part of my Copenhagen experience. With the aurora cycle continuing to be extremely strong through the next few months there’s more potential for northern lights visible in Copenhagen. Keep an eye out and turned to the north-east and a camera turned to the sky =)

I also want to give a shout-out to one of the most talented, humble, and knowledgeable aurora photographers in the world. Adrien who is on IG at Nightlightsfilms now lives in Norway, but spent some time in Denmark and was the first one to tip me off that Northern Lights could be seen from the Copenhagen suburbs and “as far south as Køge” sometimes. Ontop of his work, he also posts and updates about the aurora regularly and does a ton of educational work and misinformation busting. In addition to Juan and Adrien, also give Anders’ work a glance for some more beautiful imagery of the evening.

As always you can find my full albums and photography on flickr. Find the albums here and the northern lights images here. All images in this post are single exposures. Edits are minimal and largely focus on white balance, luminance, contrast, and localized saturation controls, with a bit of noise removal. Images are made on an Sony A7RV.

Every year I post 100 of my favorite photos from the year’s travels. As part of my photo-editing process, I edit my photos chronologically. This means that the more travel or photo-intensive my trips are, the longer it tends to take me to close out a year.

The post this year features photos from Denmark, China, Italy, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Norway, South Korea, and Turkey.

This post is part of an annual tradition.  For previous years, check out 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021 and 2022. You can also see my 100 favorite black and white shots from 2022 (HERE). My top 100 shots in black and white from 2022 will come soon.

For my daily photo posts feel free to tune in and follow along via Instagram @virtualwayfarer.

Questions about how I composed or took a specific photo? Feel free to ask in a comment. You’re also encouraged to check out my complete flickr albums here which include the many other shots from 2022 (and previous years) which didn’t make it in this post. As you can imagine, picking “just” 100 photos for this is actually quite difficult!

As is true of my style more broadly, virtually every photo in this list is a single shot. I don’t do bracketing, blending, replacement or focus stacking. Nothing has been added/removed outside of correcting lens spots. Generally my edits focus on adjusting sharpness, contrast, dodging and burning, and some mild saturation and color enhancement to bring the photos closer to what I saw in the moment.

That’s a wrap for 2023! As always – let me know which are your favorites. For these photos I used a Sony A7R III camera with a mixture of lenses. These included a Sigma 100-400, a Sony 24-70 F4, Tamron 28-75 F2.8 and a Tamron 17-28 F2.8.

In both science fiction and contemporary culture, a significant fear has skyrocketed up the list of primary threats to humanity: the approach of the Singularity. This hypothetical moment marks the emergence of Artificial General Intelligence (AGI), when AI attains sentience. The concern is that such sentient AI might rapidly dominate the world, while enslaving or eradicating humanity. Whether driven by malice or a misguided sense of benevolence, the implications for humanity are often portrayed as grim.

From Skynet in Terminator, to the Borg in Star Trek, and even the Kaylon in Seth MacFarlane’s the Orville this is a dominant concern and narrative theme. And it makes a lot of sense. After all, evolutionarily a superior organism possessed of significant competitive advantages tends to supplant or dominate earlier more primitive species. For most of us, when you look at the power and human-like responses coming out of current AI, it’s also easy to assume we’re almost there.

In this post I explain why I’m not worried about a sentient AI taking over the world and enslaving or wiping out humanity and why you really shouldn’t be either.

This post is limited in scope and focuses on addressing this specific side of the AI discussion. It does not attempt to look at the probability, ethics, or potential positive or adverse potential impacts AI may have as it serves as a highly disruptive technological innovation. This includes topics like how humans exploiting AI might amplify their facilitation of terrible outcomes, potential behavioral and reproductive risks, governmental and economic considerations, and the wealth of issues that stem from any incredibly powerful and highly disruptive new technology.

It is important to address concerns I hear regularly over the threat of AGI enslaving or killing us all because it often distracts us from having the more meaningful and pressing conversations, we need to have about how these technologies are shaping society and impacting humanity moving forward. 

A quick glossary:

• AGI (Artificial General Intelligence): An essentially sentient AI that can learn, understand and act at a human-like or superior level of intelligence.
• AI (Artificial Intelligence): Initially defined as similar to AGI but now commonly defined to encompass any machine or code that simulates human intelligence with a degree of advanced learning, reasoning, and self-correction.
• AI (Augmented Intelligence): If Artificial Intelligence emulates human intelligence and skillsets, Augmented Intelligence are advanced technologies that supplement human / augment human intelligence. Most current day “AI” is actually augmented, not artificial intelligence.
• Air gapped: The security practice of physically isolating a sensitive network or computer from other public networks such as the internet or power grid.
• LLMs (Large Language Models): A type of AI system that is trained on large data sets in order to understand, create, and manipulate written language at an advanced level.
• Operating System: A piece of software that runs and manages hardware, other pieces of software, and is responsible for core computer services.
• Singularity: A point where technology becomes sentient, typically transition to AGI, is uncontrollable and permanently changes human civilization.

THE AGI APOCOLYPSE

Let’s talk about the singularity/AGI doomsday scenario that many technologists and AI influencers are warning us of. If things play out as many fear – an AGI becomes sentient, has relatively unfettered access to all of the world’s technologies, and then uses that to seize control like a virus. It all happens in a flash (minutes or days), and then with near godlike power the AI not only gains control over every aspect of human civilization, but can use that to carry out a variety of goals which depending on the theory range from stripping of us control and autonomy, to removing humans from the equation to protect the earth, to just wiping us out completely for being violent/abusive/competitive creatures.

Not only do I find this to be a nearly impossible outcome (more on that later), but I lose very little sleep over it. In this type of apocalyptic scenario, humanity is largely eviscerated in a short period of time. Why? Because for this scenario to take place, the process would have to be incredibly accelerated and unfold very similar to other extinction level events such as a planet killing meteor. Something significantly more likely to occur than an AGI-induced human apocalypse.

THE FLAWS

For AGI to achieve supremacy, it would have to achieve that dominance in a lightning quick fashion and, importantly, with 100% efficiency. Both of these are actually radically more difficult – if not impossible – than most people assume.

The old proverb, “fight fire with fire” applies well here. AGI supremacy assumes that a single AGI would attain supremacy and then be able to act. The reality is, that one near universal constant is that the best counter to an emergent threat or power is actually another slightly different version of that same power. We quite literally fight fire with fire, bad guys with good guys, militaries with other militaries, Nukes by empowering other nations with Nukes, viruses with modified viruses, and such.

Even if a single AGI achieved breakout capabilities, there are a wide range of ways to modify that code and combat it with a competing AGI or swarm of modified AGIs. This might result from injecting a virus that causes a fork between the existing breakout AGI. It might be a duplication with modification and enhancement. Or it might be a novel AGI that is equally or more powerful launched in short-order. 

Essentially, the derail a super AI, one potential path would quite simply just to cause a fork in it that was advantageous. This is often talked about in sci-fi as the way AI becomes sentient and bypasses safety protocols. But in practice, corruption that is accidental or intentional, in the code is just as likely to be advantageous to humanity. More than that, it also fosters new competing AI, undermining the one-super-AGI-to-rule us all outcome.

INNEFFICIENCY IS OUR ALLY

The creation of deterrent or defensive AGI isn’t improbable in the least. Why? Because a 100% efficient takeover actually isn’t nearly as probable as people make it out to be.

There are a wide range of natural and artificial barriers which significantly slow any potential takeover.

• 1) Technological ecosystems aren’t as uniform as you probably think. There are huge differences that arise from technology ecosystems, national borders, differences in structural preference due to language, cultural approaches, and similar considerations. Even something as seemingly simple as our electrical grid uses a wide variety of different approaches from nation to nation, region to region.  
• 2) The premise that computers are all interconnected isn’t accurate. From North Korea, to China, to Turkey, to the US there are significant differences in just how interconnected various networks actually are. Moreover, there are other powerful computing systems that are currently also air gapped and fully siloed off of the wider open internet. Any one of these could be a launching point for a new AGI, or trigger a code fork.
• 3) AI models aren’t uniform. Similar to how different humans have evolved to have different aptitudes, AI models aren’t uniformly good at everything. You just need to look at the recent OpenAI-driven revolution in LLMs. What seemed decades off, and like an insurmountable breakthrough with a major lead has been anything but. OpenAI’s new models have continued to remain competitive, but there has been a veritable explosion in competing solutions that often leapfrog ChatGPT’s capabilities. But when it comes to e.g. Image generation StableDiffusion and Midjourney are AI’s that are much more powerful. Similarly, while ChatGPT has a range of areas where it performs extremely well, alternate approaches and language models/data sets such as Claude, or Gemini, or Perplexity are much better at performing other tasks. For each of these the underlying logic and operating approach is calibrated for different results which is then amplified by the nuances of the data set they use.

To the best of my knowledge, this creates an interesting challenge for any potential super sentient AI.  So, not only would any emergent super AI need to overcome the threat of numerous other siloes, AIs, computing resources, and a wide range of computing logics it would also have to simultaneously integrate wildly different supplemental and competing AIs. Many of these may have contradictory behaviors, logics or approaches. Simply shutting down or disabling these is not particularly easy, especially so long as that code sits somewhere and can be re-introduced easily.  Meanwhile, integrating and co-opting them into the top-level super intelligence would seem to require certain adjustments to behavior that might have a wide range of adverse impacts. Think of it a bit like a person with a multiple personality disorder where some of those are complimentary, and others are actively combative to the other personalities and their goals. An alternate outcome might be a lords and serfs model, where the super AI just attempts to dominate and control, but not incorporate resulting in a hierarchy of AIs. This type of hierarchy just mirrors standard structures we see in biological organisms and reverts us back to what we already see and have today but with more sophistication.

But, all of this is almost always paired with a very compelling additional fear and concern.  Part of the AGI’s process on its path to sentience and the natural result of it achieving that sentience is to grab control of so much data, that it knows everything and is immune to competing forces. Functionally it becomes omniscient, and in so doing, becomes omnipotent.

DATA ISN’T QUITE THE DIFFERENTIATOR YOU THINK IT IS

One of the biggest points of confusion I see in the discussions around data (in general) is the belief that simply having more data leads to better results. At the same time, when there’s talk about training data for LLMs, there’s often an additional conversation about how important a robust and expanded data set is.

For most of us, we think of the information/data that an AI is trained on and has access to as essentially the substance of that AI’s brain and intelligence. But we should be thinking about it more like your computer’s operating system and its hard drive.

Simply dumping more data into a model is only marginally effective beyond a certain point. In the same way if you had a 100GB hard drive, and you swapped that hard drive out with a 150TB hard-drive (~149,900 times larger). Fill both of those with data. And you’ve exponentially increased the information on your PC. But, that does almost nothing to improve the performance or potential outcomes available through you operating system which has to organized, analyze, and make sense of that data. More than that, an operating system that was efficient and capable working with 100GB, may be much slower, much more inefficient, and more easily confused by that incredible expansion in data to 150TB.

Dumping more data in, doesn’t improve the core operating system. It’s adding more data onto a hard drive, but does nothing to improve the version of operating system. This is also what you’re seeing happen with different AI models currently. Here, the AI researchers are basically upgrading, re-writing, or changing the logics of the operating system, while also feeding it more data. Each new operating system + data set, is iterative but also far more competitive. So, at any given time you have a large number of very similar AI models and data sets in close competition and even major breakout moments like OpenAI’s initial release are replaced almost immediately. That fast pace of innovation is part of what makes AI seem so advanced and scary. But, is actually one of the greatest safeguards as well.

My understanding of quantum computing is limited, but this mirrors a key challenge (as I understand it) faced by researchers. Quantum computing itself potentially unlocks nearly instantaneous processing of all the possible outcomes of a certain prompt. Basically, it takes one question, and then gives you all potential answers in parallel. But what it cannot do is combine those questions, contextualize those questions, and evaluate the value and utility of the answer. In this way it needs two different forms of computation.  In essence, it requires two different operating systems – an operation decision making brain, and a data analysis brain, because otherwise even with all that access to potential data and answers, there’s no real utility accessible.

DOES THAT MEAN I DON’T BELIEVE THERE’S A THREAT?

Not at all. Technology is always as dangerous as it is empowering and its abuse by bad actors remains a deeply scary threat. But, at the end of the day, if AI plays a role in significantly harming humanity, I continue to believe it will come in the form of amplifying the efficiency of existing human bad-actors. Even if we see true AGI take form, we can expect it to mirror the tribalism and individualism of humanity vs. assuming the role and capabilities of some singular god-like omnipotent power.

It’s important we put in place guardrails, and regulation that helps guide the evolution of these technologies. Just as we do with biomedicine, and the use of any disruptive innovative technology.

There’s plenty to be afraid of. From exploding super volcanoes, to planet killing meteors, to home-grown bioengineered plagues and AI-enhanced totalitarian regimes. Somewhere, way way down that list there’s a grumpy AGI with a god complex. But that’s neither the primary risk that faces us, or one that’s arriving in any meaningful way any time soon.

Ultimately, the future will look quite a bit like the present. Just with new toys to help us achieve the oldest of tasks – to feed ourselves, to protect ourselves, and to help us reproduce. AI? It’s just another accelerant and useful aid in that process, like electricity, air travel, medicine, and air conditioning.

Wow, that year went by in a flash. As I now enter the last year of my 30s and speed toward the start of my 13th year in Denmark life is busy, but good. I find myself a little restless but mostly hungry for new ways to nurture my creativity. Balance remains a challenge, but one that comes from a focus on intentionality as I work to protect energy for spaces, activities, and people that bring joy and growth while letting go of old narratives, hobbies, and habits that I’ve outgrown.

In addition to this post, I had the chance to sit down and record a two-part interview earlier this year where I touched on a lot of reflections and shared additional insights. You’ll find them on the Perception Paradox podcast – Part I (Apple | Spotify) and Part II (Apple | Spotify).

So, what’s this post? As some of you have now come to anticipate – every year I publish a birthday reflection post. I hope you’ll enjoy these thoughts and take them for what they are – an attempt to share the world as I see it and how I relate to it. It’s a mixture of observations, musings, reflections, and advice. They’re extremely long and by all rights if I just broke them up into individual posts, I’d have more than 4 posts a year. But, this is the approach I’m sticking with and which actually gets pen-to-paper. Skip around, jump to what looks interesting, or take it from cover to cover. Your call =)

You can view my 38th birthday post here, 37th birthday post here, 36th birthday post here, 35th birthday post here, 34th birthday post here, 33rd birthday post here, 32nd birthday post here, 31st birthday post here, my more detailed 30th birthday post here, my musings on turning 29 here, or 28 here. As well as a long-forgotten blog post written on my 23rd birthday (wow, have I really been blogging that long?) which you can view here.

Topics:

• Reframing Museums: Does Where I Stand Matter?
• Photographers Inspiring Painters Inspiring Photographers
• A Fun Year of Playing with AI
• The Mixed Blessing Of Improving Your Craft
• Approach Your Social Feed Like A Garden
• Finding the Right Public Speaking Advice
• Former Soviet Might in Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan
• Dating, The Four Bs, and Reduced Tolerance for Bullshit
• Why Don’t We Take Sexual Assault As Seriously as Terrorism?
• Private Equity: Re-defining the Purpose of Jobs

Reframing Museums: Does Where I Stand Matter?

I’ve always approached viewing paintings and wall-hung art in a somewhat uniform way. My unconscious assumption was that similar to a cinema screen, the ideal viewing distance was a few steps back and as centered on the work as possible. When folks talk about hanging art in residential or gallery settings – I’ve always thought of this in terms of the background it was against, the frame, and the light it was going to receive. Not so much how the art itself would be viewed.

There are a few exceptions to this, but I’ve always viewed these as very explicit and/or something clearly called out as part of the art. For me, the primary example of this was learning during a childhood visit about pointillism and just how different works like Seurat’s A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte look when you’re up close vs. standing some distance away and/or Europe’s grand painted ceilings with their intentional play with perspective and distortion.

A trip this year to the Thyssen Museum in Madrid and random eavesdropped insight changed this for me. As I stood taking in a lovely work depicting Venice’s canals, two individuals walked up – it quickly became clear it was a tourist and a private guide. As they paused by the work, my ear turned to their conversation and snagged my curiosity. She mentioned she felt the piece was hung wrong. Then had him maneuver to a few different spots. The final of which was a few steps back and to the left side of the work. He reacted immediately. My interest was further piqued.

As they continued on, I revisited the painting. This time paying close attention to how the painting changed as I squatted slightly, stood tall, stepped to the left and right sides, and stepped back. To other visitors, I’m sure I looked a bit like some sort of bird doing a mating dance. But, sure enough – the differences were subtle but significant.

I spent the remainder of the visit taking in the art and moving through the space with fresh eyes.

Which also got me thinking. A camera will always make a photo with the photo fully centered. As a photographer, I often stand directly behind my tripod. But, your typical painter moves all around their canvas and would often have a slight orientational bias depending on if they’re left or right-handed. Why wouldn’t this naturally evolve and shape the ideal perspective for the final result and how/where it’s best viewed from?

And then, of course, there is the craft and nuance of the art itself. The painter’s own intentional shaping of the piece, the artistry of their ability to bring perspective to a 2D surface, and how that depth comes to life.

That same trip included a visit to the Spanish portrait and landscape painter Joaquin Sorolla’s house/museum. It served as the perfect opportunity to further test and explore my fresh approach to taking in painted works. And, sure enough – there were pieces, that took on an entirely new sense of depth, personality, and perspective when I moved myself around the art.

Photographers Inspiring Painters Inspiring Photographers

This year’s visit to the Sorolla Museum in Madrid offered up an additional opportunity for inspiration and reflection. The museum – set in Sorolla’s old mansion, is a gorgeous museum that brings a lovely insight into both the artist and the art. Though I recognized two or three of his works, I had no idea they were his, and knew nothing about him going into the tour.

But, as we walked through the museum taking in many of his open-air beach portraits I was quite taken by his framing. It felt….unusual, particularly for a painter. In fact, the compositions felt much more photographic due to the way fabric, feet, and items flow out of frame and the way the perspective in these works also often comes from above.

Luckily, here, again, the guide brought immediate clarity. Sorolla (1863-1923), it turned out, was married to the daughter of Antonio Garcia Peris (1841-1918) – a photographer. This relationship and Sorolla’s adaptation of a more “photographic” approach to framing and perspective led to a completely different look and feel in his work. As a photographer, this disruption of the normal flow of inspiration caught my attention and spiked my interest. After all – as landscape photographers, we often look to painted classics for inspiration. But, as practitioners of the “younger” medium, it feels far less common. True, many painters will paint from a reference photo – but this is, in my experience at least, more out of convenience than deep inspiration that formatively changes and influences the final output.

All of which has served to help me add one more turn of the wheel to things, and further incorporate the combined insights of both into my own work. By seeing these photographic techniques applied in a painted context, the power of framing, light, and perspective was really driven home. It also inspired me to revisit the way I frame my natural landscapes and consider drawing on dynamic portrait techniques.

What do I mean by that? In essence, the assumption with a standard portrait is that you should have a plain background, be oriented fairly straight on, have lots of space around the individual, and a clean frame. But, this approach tends to create sterile and boring portraits that don’t tell much of a story and make you feel distant from the focus of the photo – they can very quickly become mugshot-ish. The solution to this is to get much closer and stop worrying about having everything “in frame”. In practice, a lot of really compelling portraits of humans and animals alike get tight, and play with what’s out of frame, as much as what’s in it.

My photography took a major step forward when I started to realize this and apply it to my portrait work. But, seeing Sorolla’s work really got me thinking about it all over again and with much more intentionality. More than that, it got the gears moving on how to apply these same insights to my landscapes.

Where does the conventional wisdom of having clean edges and breathing room for your primary work, and where does it actually create beautiful but sterile or boring landscape photos? How can I delve more into the space between grand vista landscape photography and super close tight intimate landscapes while unlocking more of that sense of motion, space, and moment.

In the example above, I’ve taken a photo of a Norwegian Boathouse as I photographed and then edited the final image. In revisiting the photo, I’ve quickly sketched totally different crops that would apply some of these insights. As you can see in the current image, there’s a ton of breathing room around the edges to make it clean. The focus with the boat shed is clearly in the image, and I’ve focused more on the line of the water, and the line of the shrubs to create a sense of balance in the image. But, I could also explore very different crops that would tell completely different stories.

The challenge now? To put it into practice when I get out and photograph. To experiment, to re-frame how I approach my compositions, and to experiment with new ways to approach my editing process. I suppose these two Museum experiences also mean I’ll need to update my approach of just free-form walking through art museums without a tour, guide, or agenda as in both cases I walked away with meaningful insights I’d have totally missed if I was following my usual solo-approach.

A Fun Year of Playing with AI

While I have deep reservations about the way AI model training has steamrolled and exploited creators, the tools themselves remain a fascinating new tapestry for experimentation. Now that the novelty has started to wear off, it’s a fun period to play and chase a mixture of highly utilitarian and highly creative ways to use the technology.

I’m definitely already quite tired of the generic AI look and feel. It’s quite easy to recognize ChatGPT-written text for social posts or generic content. There’s a sameness to it – where without intentional modification and a critical eye, the output takes on a….what should we even call it? ChatGPT dialect and accent? And then there’s the artwork. The more I play with it, the more I struggle to get it to break free of that slightly glossy, slightly blurry, hints of an over-saturated cartoon look and feel.

AI Search

I’m loving Perplexity.AI for search and quick data checking. In some ways, it reminds me of search before SEO and the ensuing enshittification of search results made finding meaningful responses almost impossible.

Research and Synthesis

I’m increasingly enjoying playing with ChatGPT and various GPTs for research and prototyping. This year I used it to search for and experiment with fleshing out a hypothesis I have that explains conspiracy thinking and behavior through the lens of the same risk/reward/justification pathways that are engaged by gambling. While due to the risk of hallucinations, I needed to exercise a lot of care – I was able to use GPTs like ScholarAI to help digest and narrow in on interesting citations as well as to explore some basic questions very effectively across a wide range of papers.

I also recently used it to generate a series of cultural traits and then map those into mindmaps. You can see the end result in my recent post “Cultural Traits Explored Through the AI Lens”. In total, the generation of the 20+ mindmaps took under 30 minutes. The visuals themselves are fully generated through a mapping GPT extension and then it was simply a matter of outlining my basic criteria and refining it.

I’ve also absolutely loved using ChatGPT as a dictionary/thesaurus/proverb assistant. The ability to prompt it to confirm effective grammatical structure or word choice is brilliant. A prime example might be something like Affect vs. Effect. A quick prompt I might ask then often looks something like “Please define the difference in usage between Affect and Effect and provide 2 examples in bulleted form. Then please analyze the following sentence and confirm which is the appropriate usage. “The dog’s bad breath had a profound affect on my appetite, causing me to pass her the remaining food on my plate.”

It’s a great tool, especially when I get various questions from international friends and colleagues around usage and want to confirm my intuition. After 12 years of living abroad, it’s also an excellent tool for dusting a bit of rust off my English.

Visual Art

The area I’m having the most fun in is definitely playing with creative ways to generate visual art. While I’m utterly disinterested in the use of AI to manipulate photography – I’m loving layering prompts with my travel knowledge and historical curiosity to create new generations.

Earlier this year I generated a series of pieces that focused on my continuing passion and curiosity surrounding etchings. For each, I leveraged prompts using artists I deeply admire such as Giovanni Battista Piranesi and Luigi Rossini, and then layered on fusions of natural landscape formations and archeological sites to generate a series of novel creations. You can see the full post here.

More recently I experimented with time periods and painterly styles, fusing those with locations and events. Here there’s a blend of styles from the 1500s to 1800s paired with depictions of Sicily and Venice.

The Mixed Blessing Of Improving Your Craft

Having a craft is as rewarding as it is exhausting. With both my photography and my writing I find there’s an interesting challenge that’s at least partially tied to Imposter Syndrome, but retains its own unique twist.

With crafts like writing and photography, there’s always an infinite opportunity to improve. Not only that, but each new work has its own unique potential to be incredible and stand the test of time, or to fumble and miss the mark.

I find the interesting quandary with creating – is each new major step forward is seen through the eyes of your knowledge and ability and emotional connection to that work at that point in time. With photography this is especially challenging, as not only is the technology rapidly evolving, but the way I see, experience, and recall an image and composition is also progressing. It’s almost like watching an image come into focus during an optometrist visit. The image seems quite in focus to begin with…if perhaps a bit blurry. But then, as you refine the lenses closer and closer to the ideal calibration – it gets sharper and sharper until you suddenly realize that your initial view was anything but perfect.

This is the joy of the craft, and far from a bad thing. But, it is a deeply frustrating thing.

When I look back and re-read something I’ve written, or look at images that I thought, at the time, were world-class images – I often find myself scratching my head. Recognizing the pleasant emotion attached to the work, but also feeling a bit surprised and disappointed – sometimes on the edge of embarrassment. For many artists, there’s a temptation to internalize this criticality or to delete and prune those older works. And while I’ll occasionally do a light cleanup, I focus more on learning, on celebrating my own journey, and appreciating that those pieces may still resonate with other people and are often experienced in very different ways.

It’s also a powerful reminder when you re-frame of your growth and journey and improvement. All of this is one of the reasons you’ll still find writing on this blog from 15 years ago, and why I have Flickr photo albums that include nearly 28,000 images going back to 2004 on my flcikr.

Because an artist’s criticality is never fully coherent. I find there’s another simultaneous voice that inhabits the same space. And that’s the voice that looks back at stand-out works that have withstood the test of time. With these, the challenge is almost the opposite. I look at my current body of work and I grow frustrated. Then I re-read old writing or look at stand-out images from past years and that frustration and imposter syndrome grows. The voice starts up again – “ahh but look, you were so good. What happened? You must have just been lucky. Or perhaps your skill has deteriorated because you’ve neglected it or lost the passion that drove you.” Which is, of course, nonsense and a silly version of the honeymoon effect.

Those stand-out or award-winning examples were the very best of that year’s work. They often also reflect stand-out experiences, either in the form of a profoundly unique trip, or a moment of growth and reflection or inspiration. They’re the works that are cherry-picked, pulled free of context, and then held up and judged side-by-side with others that may reflect experimentation, still need further refinement, or which are already exceptional in their own right but which just don’t quite break through the current haze of perfectionist insecurity.

Now, I constantly remind myself – that these are part of the journey. That they are a blessing if I choose to welcome and relish them and that they’re also the mixed blessing of pursuing a craft. They’re part of the journey, and with each passing year they take on new meaning, new context, and help remind me of important moments, emotions, and steps along the way.

Approach Your Social Feed Like A Garden

If you want to radically improve your social literacy and safeguard yourself from falling victim to some of social media’s most problematic pitfalls there’s a simple, but highly effective change in approach you can follow.

Re-frame and think about every feed-based social platform you engage with as a mini garden. Right now, you probably open it up, picked a few things you like, and then you engage with what it shows you in a constant stream of content. In earlier stages of social media, that feed was shaped predominantly by who you chose to follow. But, as that intentional step was replaced by suggestions and a dynamic feed who you follow is just a single data point. How’s this map to a garden?

Think of your social feed on a platform as a garden bed. You have a clear idea of what you want – some carrots, some tomatoes, some beets, some peas, and maybe some spices. But if you don’t maintain that bed, groom it, water it correctly, and pull weeds in fairly short order you’ll be growing lots of weeds, very few of the plants you actually wanted, and likely those weeds will overpower and kill most of the plants you actually want the garden for. Similarly, if you – let’s say – let that tomato plant grow wild and give it total free reign, too much of a good thing is likely to also create issues.

On a social feed, the algorithm is looking at your profile, looking at the whole/what you follow, and then watching what you engage with, how long you engage with it, and how that impacts your behavior. The good news is, like a garden, you can be very intentional and work to prune, water, and weed that garden to keep it healthy. The bad news is, it’s a constant process, and a bit like very persistent weeds, the algo will sometimes very aggressively push certain content based on certain signals.

So, what does good gardening actually look like?

• Every link you click, video you view for longer than 1 second, search you do, comment or like, and profile you click into registers as an engagement. Keep this in mind while you consume content. Use it to positively shape good behavior, and be careful with potential bad behavior.
• When people send you content or links, be mindful that bringing that content into your social garden has an impact. It’s like transplanting in a new plant. It may be great, it may be harmless, or it could come with snails and need weeds.
• Don’t be afraid to block or hide accounts. Each platform has a different set of tools. And unfortunately, sometimes it takes a while to force the algo to respect those choices. The way algos usually work also means that they’ll often wait a few days and then show you some of that content again – just in case.
• Block and hide accounts you know are full of bad information or toxic/unhealthy advice proactively. Historically, going and hiding content or blocking a user felt like a very aggressive act. But that’s because they were friends already in your network. I love history, archeology, and the rapidly evolving nature of the field – but I know Graham Hancock is a dipshit that spouts constant nonsense and misinformation and that what he presents can’t be trusted. Blocking him proactively helps keep my feed focused on real LIDAR discoveries and educational pieces, not nonsense and fabrications.
• Do a mental audit of what sort of content your algo is feeding you. I LOVE cat, dog, and panda videos. I HATE legless slithering reptiles. I’m very intentional in getting the algo to respect this and it’s effective. For political and social content or news, I also use tools like the AdFontesMedia bias and accuracy chart (here) for framing. In general, if you find yourself spending much time with content from under 32 – your garden has sick plants. And if your garden has lots from under 24 – it is more weeds than a garden.
• Keep in mind that weeds propagate. So, when you’re engaging with content from a specific content creator, producer, or narrative – you’re not only watering that specific video/producer. You’re essentially taking a handful of related seed and throwing it around the garden.
• Watch for aggregators or re-post accounts, and then be very intentional in if/how/when you engage with them. These types of accounts are purely focused on engagement, often steal content, and have a high confirmation bias.
• At times, it’s also important to hide/block accounts posting content you may agree with, but which isn’t credible or is chronically extremely biased. This applies more to news and commentary, but can also fit self-help and related genres. It’s probably less of an issue with cat videos.

Of course, what you don’t want to do is just create a dysfunctional echo-chamber the only has stories and content that re-affirms a very narrow view. But, the reality is, that’s what the algo will push you into subconsciously if you don’t approach it with intention. By taking this approach and being intentional, you can get the most value out of social platforms while using them in a more healthy, more media-literate, way that’s better for your mental health and keeps you more in the fact-based side of social.

This applies to all major social platforms; Facebook, TikTok, Instagram, Threads, X, BlueSky, etc.

Finding the Right Public Speaking Advice

By now you’ve probably seen the videos and articles about some people having an inner voice, some people having an occasional inner voice, and others having a fairly constant one. For those who haven’t stumbled onto this yet, it’s a fascinating insight. Simply put, some of us essentially intuit and “feel” actions and emotions and thoughts, while others have an added layer of abstraction which includes a running conversation similar to the voice-over you’d find in films.

While this, on its own, is quite interesting – a recent conversation gave me an exciting new insight into how this was causing a disconnect in the advice I was getting around facing my fears, anxieties, and physiological reactions to public speaking.

During a recent chat with a friend, we were discussing a talk she had to give, but was extremely anxious about. I was sharing some of the insights I’ve learned and used to help address some of my own issues stemming from general social anxiety and the issues the undiagnosed sugar intolerance I’ve talked about in previous posts caused. But, what became clear to me when she described a lot of the fears, challenges, and frustration loops she falls into, was that she has a very strong internal monologue. And that’s when it clicked.

It’s probably no surprise to many of you that I also have a strong internal monologue. And, looking back across previous posts and in Practical Curiosity, I actually have talked about aspects tangential to that monologue and how it shapes our behavior in a variety of ways. As she and I talked, the epiphany hit me like a rock.

A huge amount of the advice, suggestions, and reassurance that people have given me around public speaking and social apprehension over the years is enormously well-intentioned but largely useless. It can actually be quite frustrating because it’s usually very clear that they’re not understanding a large part of the source of that apprehension. It’s a bit like two cars driving side by side, talking about the weather. Only it’s raining, one is a convertible with the top stuck down, and the other is a sedan that doesn’t recognize that the convertible is different. You both started in the same place, you’re ending in the same place, you may be a great driver. But, one of you is soaking wet, freezing, and trying to solve a problem entirely outside the wider conversation of how to drive from point A to point B.

And that’s where I suspect the internal monologue comes in.

When I’m giving a speech, I’m not just presenting. I’m simultaneously having an entire internal conversation with myself in real time as I do it. It’s like being an actor, and then in your earpiece you have your stage director shouting feedback. “Don’t forget to breathe, Look up, smile, make eye contact. You’re not making eye contact enough. Your voice sounds like it’s wavering like you’re going to cry. Don’t fidget. Your hand is shaking, move it. Stand up straight. Oh, that person on the left looks bored – they might think what you’re saying is stupid or wrong. Why are you pausing? They’re going to think you forget what you’re saying and then they’re going to think you weren’t prepared. Oh, don’t say something wrong. What if that’s too controversial? Will I get fired? Why is my pulse racing, I can’t breathe – oh shit, what was I going to say next?” but, you’re not just the actor. You’re also the stage director simultaneously. But, it’s even worse than that, because aspects of that conversation start the moment you find out you’re going to have to give that talk and it’s a running conversation from that point forward. “What will I wear, will it be ok? Who will be there? What’s the room? What’s the layout? How many people? Can I do it? Do I know the information – I think I do, I know I do, but do I really?” and much more.

And here’s the thing. I know I’m a decent public speaker. I know I know my content. I even know now that I’m going to have a series of physiological reactions, and I know my internal monologue will be running. The challenge is that even with all of that knowledge, it doesn’t change the presence of that monologue and it doesn’t help quiet the what-ifs, that that internal monologue is focused on. Because that monologue isn’t just a commentary on the moment or a voice of like “open the door” and the body responds. It’s a raging debate using “if this, then that” considerations that rapidly can wander down tangents.

Quite frankly. It’s exhausting. And while speaking to that inner monologue, acknowledging fears, recentering on what is actually true and practical, etc. is all useful. There’s so much more to it, than purely memorizing a few lines. Showing up. Delivering the lines and then flowing on to the next task.

My working theory is that for many people who find these types of speaking or social experiences less overwhelming, their inner monologue is non-existent or quite minimal. In many ways it’s a huge asset, though it also means they’re more likely to stumble into unexpected fumbles, missteps, or misstatements – there’s no watchman on deck to warn of the iceberg ahead. But, it also means that when they give well-intentioned advice that advice is often great for the mechanics of the speech, but completely disconnected from a primary source of the anxiety. It’s in those moments I find myself thinking, “I know all this, I know all this is true, I agree with you – but it doesn’t actually make a difference or help with the core challenge I’m struggling with.”

So, moving forward it’s one to explore further. But, I increasingly believe that the starting point for getting / or giving advice around public speaking or related activities should actually be a very simple framing question. Do you have an internal monologue, and if so – how active is it? And for the 50% of us or so that have a box of howling monkeys screaming in our heads – you have my sympathy

Former Soviet Might in Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan

Born in 1985 – my early memories kick in around first grade and coincide with the final death rattle of the Soviet Union. I distinctly recall that the early boyish doodles we’d draw of fighter planes were carefully decorated with “USA” and “USSR” and some vague sense that major global events were unfolding. At that point, the Soviet Union had already been in decline for some time, but over the following decade, things only accelerated. The wall came down, the veil was pierced, and the world discovered that the USSR was nowhere near as impressive as the rest of the world and thought and feared. The key takeaway for me – and I suspect most of my generation, particularly in Europe and the US – was of a decrepit, dysfunctional corpse of a nation.

In many ways it always seemed hard to reconcile how the Russia we were seeing could have ever been the grand empire that went head to head with the US, challenged the US on technological advancement, science, and innovation at every step of the way, and was famous for undertaking grand projects with everything from the world’s largest planes to massive infrastructure and like-kind projects.

As I got older, I also grew increasingly surprised to hear from friends or to read in articles from former Soviet countries and possessions that many members of the older generations spoke highly of the Soviet Union/Eastern Block and looked somewhat fondly back on it. How could that be? The corruption, the profound human suffering, the general oppression, and the constant dysfunction. After all – my image of Russia is of a country that, outside of a few major metropolitan areas, in many ways stopped progressing in the late 60s and has been in decline ever since.

I got my first preview of the answer to that in Georgia several years ago. Driving through the countryside, if you looked closely, you’d see grand building after grand building sitting abandoned or in extreme disrepair. Many of these were large schools, civic buildings, or factories/warehouses. It was clear, these had been thriving infrastructure during the Soviet era but now sat derelict. With an average net wage of 430 Euro/month, Georgia was just starting to find its feet as it detached from Russian influence and worked hard to purge corruption and revitalize its economy. The view and experience was vastly different from what I’d become accustomed to in Central and Eastern Europe in countries like Lithuania, the Czech Republic and Poland – in part because that pivot and ability to detach perhaps happened much earlier and due to their proximity and eventual incorporation into the West.

It wasn’t until this year’s visit to Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan though that it really started to click for me. It started outside Almaty my brother and I headed up by gondola to the ski resort just outside of the city. There we passed over what looked like a rather large, but completely empty dam. We assumed it was some derelict project that had failed, or been drained over the years but investigated a bit further. Instead? It turned out not to be the case at all. Instead, it was a novel mudflow control dam created in the 1970s to protect and save Almaty. In short, the Soviet Union’s solution to the risk of mud flows devastating the city was to not only build barriers, but to build a massive dam, that included outtakes, ring roads, and management towers with no intention of flooding it or using it as a standard reservoir, purely to protect the city.

We were impressed.

Over the next week and a half in Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan, we wandered, explored, and took in countries and people that were so very different than what we expected. But, as we did, and in Kyrgyzstan in particular as we drove extensively in the northeast you could see the former grandeur of the Soviet Union.

On the one hand, all of the dysfunction and decay was there. Old soviet style building blocks with cement liberally used. Cracked and ruined roads. 50-year-old bus stops reduced to crumbling ruins still barely functional.

But, beneath all that – there was something very different. Here, even in remote areas, there was the constant presence of infrastructure. The bus stops serve as a prime example, as do the city signs that welcome you into each town. Here, large ornate bus stop after large ornate bus stop decorate the countryside. And, even half a century later, they are still there – still offering from the shelter – and still highlighting the creativity and investment of the time. These bus stops illustrate how the Soviet Union had gone to great expense and lengths to build roads and infrastructure to tie the country and remote regions together.

Similarly, the entry to most mid and large towns is marked by not just a simple street sign, but a dramatic piece of signage. These too have their own unique look and feel with a sense of grandeur to them. And these, too, often now boast chipped paint and an artistic style that ties them together and clearly marks each as part of a grand unifying Soviet strategy.

The same with grand boulevards – some worn down, others still boasting grand old trees – that seem out of place surrounded by the buildings that stand watch over them. In many towns and cities in the region parks with large war monuments are visible. Marked by a tank, or piece of artillery, or similar vehicle raised on a pedestal.

What we saw beneath that layer of cracked paint and crumbling cement was a hint of what must have been an absolutely incredible and exciting period of building, growth, advancement, and wild infrastructure and service expansion. I suppose it would have been a bit like how we see the growth and building projects that Dubai/the UAE and China have undertaken in recent years. Similar in the sense of innovation, the sheer level of infrastructure being created, and the catapult forward in facilities and urban services.

So, it makes sense that for some of these older individuals – they remember that period from their youth. They remember that sense of excitement, of building, and the awe of the new infrastructure being put in with a country that would move mountains. And that then, they’d look at the gradual decline these past 40+ years, the erosion of that momentum, and they’d harbor sorrow for what could have been.

All of which isn’t to say the building of those projects at the time was great for those involved. From forced resettlement to stories like the hundreds of thousands killed building projects like the road of bones / Kolyma Highway – these projects have their own terrible histories.

But, it was powerful to see the Soviet Union through the lens of what it was at its peak, and how it might have been experienced at the time. Not, as I’ve grown up thinking about it.

And what of Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan today?

Both are countries in exciting transition. You see it, you feel it. They find themselves in a profoundly difficult spot. Sandwiched between two hungry giants with Russia above, China below, and a turbulent group of unruly and chaotic neighbors to the south they’re up against a stacked deck. They’re deeply hungry for their own autonomy. The young people in Almaty and Bishkek are eagerly leaning into and prioritizing education, and you can see and feel that their shift and mentality is to lean forward and toward a global west.

The schools are all well painted, well maintained, and surrounded by hip coffee shops, cafes, and stand in stark contrast to the former Soviet look, feel, and energy. Almaty in particular, but equally in Bishkek and the surrounding towns you get the feeling of long-dormant countries suddenly coming awake. A bit like a steam engine, struggling mightily to get the first few revolutions completed – but clearly on track to build momentum. In many ways, they reminded me of Georgia and mirror what Vilnius or Prague likely looked and felt like in the late 90s. Granted, Almaty is also one of the long-standing commercial hubs in the region – but even at that – the are clearly investing in parks and public spaces, trash cans and city benches are freshly painted, and you feel safe walking the city.

For these reasons it was a fascinating trip and wonderful opportunity to challenge my own narratives, to get fresh insights and perspective into a slice of history and a region that I grew up knowing almost nothing about, and to discover two areas that are somewhat silently but rapidly finding their feet and entering a potentially very exciting period. One that the US and European sphere of influence sorely overlooks and misunderstands in no small part due to outdated movie depictions and disparate media universes.

Dating, The Four Bs, and Reduced Tolerance for Bullshit

Though my dating this past year has been rather quiet. I’m perpetually fascinated by sex, relationships, politics, and religion. These days – things are in transition, and the result is fascinating. A small but vocal subset of men are throwing petulant temper tantrums over not being able to continue acting like the dregs of society. A larger group are deeply entrenched in simultaneously being upset over the loss of power, and utterly unwilling to acknowledge or navigate in a more egalitarian fashion instead defaulting to absurdities. While another subset are proving themselves exasperating to date (a category I can’t fully claim not to be partially in) through a disinterest in commitment driven in part by dating apps, FOMO, lack of relational bandwidth, competing priorities, and misaligned timeframes.

At the same time women are reacting in their own fascinating ways and the result is a knock-down drag out brawl. American women are trending significantly more liberal. As The Hill put it, “While women have been becoming more liberal for years, the change in dating culture coincides with a major uptick in young women identifying as left-leaning amid political developments such as Trump’s election, the rise of the #MeToo movement and the overturning of Roe v. Wade. Men’s politics, meanwhile, have undergone no similar shift.” Not only this, but because this shift is tied to core values around equality, equity, and respect – compromise for empowered women is not something that can be forced or extorted in the same way it was before.

To make things even more interesting, medical science has evolved to enable IVF, provide added control over reproductive cycles, and women have either for sociological or biological reasons been consistently more willing to embrace bi-sexual relationships. Layer in higher education levels, the maturation of financial security and independence, and close-knit social circles and support networks and women have functionally said – fuck it. We’ll do it on our own terms, in our own, way, at our own pace.

And it’s not just in the US. The 4B movement out of South Korea has popped up as a stark example of just how tired of the nonsense women have gotten. While I don’t claim to understand the nuance, the 4B movement clearly captures a wider trend which I think we see across much of the world.

What’s the 4B movement? Wikipedia describes it clearly as, “The 4B movement is meant to serve as a direct opposition to South Korea’s patriarchal state and combat its pro-natalist policies, which view women’s bodies and reproductive abilities as tools for the state’s future. Feminists who engage in the 4B movement are known to actively resist the various ways in which gendered expectations are enforced in a conservative society, specifically relating to child-rearing, relationships, and employment.”

And what are the 4 Bs (or NOs)? No sex with men, No child-rearing, No dating men, and No marriage with men. This comes in a country facing the evaporation of their birth rate. The most recent reproduction rate for South Korea was 0.72. Consider that in contrast to the rate of 2.1 required for maintaining population levels.

It’s a disaster and the response from young men, men in power, and older generations has only made it worse.

And I get it. The feminist ask is simple; give me equal opportunity, safety, autonomy, respect and let me decide my own course. As a man, that’s the baseline I’m used to and take for granted.

But, of course, for the Andrew Tate’s of the world, the men who find it OK to have secret second families, and folks unwilling to compete on a fair playing field – it’s a huge threat. And one they’re seething mad and threatened by. So, they act out. They try and turn feminism into a dirty word. They bombard women with abuse, and they create a hostile dating environment.

So, more and more women have simply opted out. They’ve found wonderful women to date and marry, or chosen to go the path on their own. Many have opted either eagerly or begrudgingly to skip the family and focus on pets, friends, and their career.

What comes next? It will be fun to see. Personally, I’m hopeful. In general, I see it as a continuation of the long march of progress and while it’s true that history – especially social history – tends to be more of a pendulum than I’d like. I do think we’ll continue to see this play out. A large swath of men in the middle will shrug, adapt a little, and move forward pivoting to meet women more towards the middle. A vocal subset will do what they always do and try and use regulation, threats of violence, and cultural norms to force things back the opposite direction.

Regardless – it’s a fascinating time to be single and certainly a bit scary. Though, not because I’m under some great threat as a man. Rather, because any period of transition like this takes a while to normalize, and we’ll see major societal impacts as our birth rate continues to fall and as more friction heats up between the genders.

Why Don’t We Take Sexual Assault As Seriously as Terrorism?

A few weeks ago I saw a clip from the UK’s MET Police Commissioner Sir Mark Rowley. In it, he quotes a number of stats – in one year in London, the number of men who have an allegation of rape, domestic violence, child abuse, etc. is 34,000. The number of women who report sexual assault over a given year in the UK is around 800,000 + another 270,000 men (source). Meanwhile, a recent UN report found that around 89,000 women and girls were killed globally last year alone in gender-related attacks and of those about 48,800 women and girls worldwide were killed by their intimate partners or other family members. The report also notes that the #s in 2022 in the US trended up, even while declining in other parts of the Americas.

Meanwhile, some of the most recent figures I could find for the US report that there are about 460,000 cases of rape and sexual assault reported each year in the US. That seems severely underreported given the UK’s reported figure, and the size difference 67M vs. 333M between the UK and US.

And, why wouldn’t it be underreported in the US – after all, we have a former President and current Presidential candidate with 26 different allegations of sexual assault against him who is still running and two Supreme Court justices with credible sexual harassment/assault accusations in their history. Other reporting suggests that just 1 in 5 cases of Rape gets reported. Recent research also reported that in 14 states where total abortion bans have been put in place approximately 65,000 people became pregnant through rape in just those states between July 2022 and January 2024.

No matter how you slice it, to me there’s a far deeper issue than just #MeToo. Clearly, you have large numbers of individuals (predominantly but not exclusively) women who are suffering prolific levels of sexual assault/harassment/murder every year.

Meanwhile since 2000 (a 24 year period) we’ve had around 3,160 deaths from terrorism in the US, while Europe has had roughly 11,300 over the same period. In total between the EU and the US that’s fewer than 15,000 terrorist-related deaths in total in 20+ years.

And yet, we’ve dedicated trillions of dollars, invoked entire new government agencies, added layers upon layers of new laws and levels of enforcement and literally gone to war to respond to the threat of Terrorism. We’ve even re-designed our airports, changed our cities including installing barriers and additional measures, added cameras, and much more.

At the same time, we’ve wrung our hands, and been utterly unwilling to make a dramatic shift and to bring that same level of policy and enforcement to bear on a far more dangerous, far more prolific threat to our society. And there, I suspect it’s in part because we’ve framed it wrong. On top of a deeply sexist approach that is only periodically apologetic for much of this abuse, we talk about crimes of passion or dismiss vile conduct as an unavoidable biologically fueled inconvenience. It’s such an astronomically disconnected pile of bullshit it’s staggering. You’d never apply the same logic and narratives to terrorism, theft, or crime in other contexts.

So, moving forward, I’m inclined to call it what it is and support approaching it in the same way. It is terrorism. Pure and simple. It is about power, it is about violence, and it is about inflicting malicious harm. Talking about it as a form or terrorism in no way diminishes the existing terrorist threat.

Private Equity: Re-defining the Purpose of Jobs

There’s an interesting generational difference in how people see the role of a job, and I don’t think it’s something widely recognized or that most pick up on – I know I certainly didn’t.

Pause and ask yourself – what’s the role of a job in wealth creation? And, by extension, how does that map to your eventual savings for retirement?

You probably settled on some approximation of one of two narratives.

The first – you work a job or jobs, that wage enables you to buy your house, and puts money away in savings via a retirement pension which you’ll eventually use to retire. You may then take some of the surplus money and use that for investments to supplement and enhance your standard of living and unlock additional socio-economic mobility. In summary; your job covers your needs at all stages of life through retirement and more isn’t needed.

The second – you work a job or jobs to cover your expenses, while you get the seed capital, to invest in the stock market or other investments, which are the essential tool to help you make enough additional money to have a retirement pension and/or make investments such as in a house. You’ll use the money you make on investments to maintain or enable your current standard of living with the longshot hope of some additional socio-economic mobility. In summary; your job lets you barely get by and meet core needs. But meeting debt obligations, saving for real estate, and retirement are all dependent on additional income generation and the speculative stock market is the channel for that.

To put the two even more simply; In the first, you could be successful, support a family, and retire purely off of a salaried role. In the second, it is a given that you’ll need a combination of salaried role + stock market infusion to get by.

For the older generations, a job delivered enough capital to support and secure or improve their standard of living without the need for supplementation. This largely also meant keeping up with inflation. If you wanted to buy your house, you worked your job and enough of that wage was left over to cover the family, pay into retirement, and invest in purchasing your home. The job and the salary it generated was sufficient to enable both.

Then the systemic changes in the 70s and 80s came along – driven in part by private equity and venture capital. The 1980s saw a massive re-distribution of wealth, and a new approach to how businesses operate, how profits are shared, and how stock prices were valued. Topics like a healthy P/E ratio stopped being key considerations and the role of dividends and executive compensation all got turned upside down.

In effect, an entire new layer was inserted into the existing structure and that new layer extracted and re-directed an enormous amount of wealth. Since then, it has reshaped how the stock market functions, the behavior of public and private companies alike, wealth concentrations, and business lifecycles. It has also simultaneously re-directed large amounts of that wealth into more concentrated pockets. Over time these financial firms have made new investments and spread into additional aspects of society, reshaping them as they go. Today, BlackRock alone claims some $10 trillion in assets under management. For the past 20 years, speculative investment has also driven a surge in companies able to scale to multi-billion dollar valuations despite little to no profitability.

Meanwhile, the investment climate itself has evolved significantly from before the 1980s. Steady profitability is only just starting to return as a priority, while reliable dividends are rarely talked about for the average investor and have now been banished more to the realm of older generations or high-net-worth individuals with large stock portfolios.

All of this has functionally reallocated massive amounts of money out of the reach of regular hourly and salaried employees and functionally diluted the benefit and impact of that salary. At the same time, they’re facing significant expansions in debt – often facing debt comparable to a down payment (or the full price) of a new home right out of the gate due to how the education system and degree requirements have been re-engineered. A relatively small subset of highly skilled or highly compensated technical workers manage to bypass these challenges and leapfrog their way forward. But, the vast majority get left behind.

This then manifests in a breach between the way we talk culturally about the role of your job, what it should enable, and how it plays a pivotal role – especially in your first 10-15 years of income generation. This stands out in stark contrast with the actual role of that job for the average individual under 45.

I think this divide goes a long way to explaining a lot of friction between the generations around their relationships with savings, their employers, and investing. It also helps to explain the huge divide in how employment, debt, and ownership of assets are viewed between those 60+ and those under 40. Ultimately we’re talking about two vastly different systems and rulesets.

My suspicion is that as more and more people become aware of this divide, and the pressure that the value extraction in the middle is creating – we’ll see a pivot in people’s sentiment toward the stock market, and large investment funds. At what point do people become uncomfortable with largescale losses across major pension funds, wildly unbalanced CEO pay that’s historically unprecedented, and a level of profit-taking that undercuts the ability to invest in basics like education, healthcare, and infrastructure. Unfortunately, it seems that the guiderails came off these otherwise extremely positive vehicles for innovation, growth, and competition and the end result has been a bit like a fish without self-control that eats itself to death.

Final Thoughts

Just like that another year has come and gone. As always, thank you all for joining me on this adventure. I’m so grateful for the people that inspire me, that support me, that challenge me, and that nourish me with the investment of time, interest and curiosity.

I really have no idea what the year ahead will bring. I invested in an upgraded camera in January and cannot wait to run it through its paces, and to see what it unlocks. I’m still working on my Top 100 color / black and white photos for 2023 posts and cannot wait to share some of the highlights with you.

Hopefully 39 will see me finally move from the research and search phase to buying a property here in Copenhagen. That alone would unlock new challenges in decorating, maintenance, upgrades, and home ownership.

I expect it will bring more travels, hopefully new countries, and exciting new opportunities to grow. It’s also a year where I expect and hope to invest more time in interpersonal, social, and relationships – but, let’s see what work and related challenges have in store for me.

As always, if there’s some part of this post that really resonated with you or you found really engaged your thinking – reach out, and let me know.

I’ve always been very interested in language, culture, how we communicate and the different influences our native and adopted cultures have on us.

Several years ago I was introduced to the communication pattern charts from “When Cultures Collide” by Richard Lewis. I love how these provide an easy to understand and relate to visual way of comparing and contrasting different cultural tendencies. While they’re in no way exhaustive, I think they serve a role when used properly as a baseline for having conversations – similar to how I approach and use personality tests. At times, these can manifest or re-affirm unfounded stereotypes but in other cases they’re a wonderful tool for further discussion, reflection, and deeper inquiry.

This got me thinking – what would a Large Language Model-driven AI come up with if I asked it to give me varying communication preferences and societal value across cultures. In theory, the LLM should be able to surface connections that draw both on its pattern recognition as well as existing bodies of work. However, it is also likely to paint a biased picture due to over representation of English language training material and under-representation of Native language material.

With all of this in mind, I started generating a few basic prompts as a fun casual experiment.

This is the output of that 30 minutes of playing around and exploring. As I find the results quite interesting, I decided to share these results even though they’re the result of a super casual experiment.

As I read through the different charts, I then had an additional thought – how do these vary across generations? So, I had ChatGPT further render three additional versions for the US, South Korea and Denmark where I had it elaborated on the prompt but for that specific country and age bracket.

Country Level Charts

China

Colombia

Denmark

Egypt

England

Germany

Ghana

India

Italy

Kenya

Kyrgyzstan

Malaysia

Morocco

Norway

Oman

Poland

Saudi Arabia

Scotland

South Korea

Spain

Sweden

Turkey

United States

Vietnam

Zambia

United States Rendered By Age Brackets

South Korea Rendered By Age Brackets

Denmark Rendered By Age Brackets

I hope you found these as fun and interesting as I did. If you’ve got questions about my approach or want to discuss observations further, you’re welcome to ping me on Threads.

I’ve been captivated by the AI inspired art that has exploded in popularity in 2023. While I don’t find the usage of such art or enhancements attractive for my travel and landscape photography I had an idea. Why not combine a mixture of current interests and passions to see if I could create something very different from the majority of AI art I’ve seen.

As I’ve written about in previous posts, I’m currently fascinated by Etchings going so far as to buy my first two etchings last year. One of which was a random Danish naval scene, the other of which was a Luigi Rossini piece from 1822.

At the same time I remain deeply influenced by the Lord of the Rings, High Fantasy, and Human architectural history. All of that pairs with my passion for travel and landscape photography and constant pursuit and interest in exploring new mountains, rivers, waterfalls, and all in between.

That led me to generate a series of prompts and refine them until I achieved the following. I hope you’ll enjoy!

Those with a keen eye will see some of the source inspiration and locations I draw on in crafting the prompts. Though all are purely AI generated and I’ve aimed to craft the prompts to create something novel. The etching styles mostly draw upon inspiration from Giovanni Battista Piranesi, Luigi Rossini and 1800s naturalists.

I’ve also been playing with some variations that focus a bit more on the mystical and the high fantasy dimensions with more focus on color.

It’s certainly a fun medium and a great challenge to draw on creative prompts and how to refine them. There’s also something that appeals to me as a writer. I suppose we always talk as writers about how our words bring life to ideas. And now with the AI dimension, there’s this strange bridge where we can use those words to imagine, craft, and refine like paintbrush strokes. Giving life to ideas and imaginings but in a way that still evolve and fluctuate around the details based on how the AI is behaving.

What do you think? Have one or two you like? Which are your favorites?

Every year I post 100 of my favorite photos from the year’s travels. As part of my photo-editing process, I edit my photos chronologically. This means that the more travel or photo-intensive my trips are, the longer it tends to take me to close out a year.

2022 was a lovely year of travels and included visits to the American Southwest, Austria, Italy, Norway, Vietnam, Sweden and Denmark. It also included an incredible honor and exciting award as I was recognized as one of 9 Honorable Mentions in the 2022 National Geographic ‘Pictures of the Year’ photo contest. This was an incredible honor and featured across the internet from Good Morning America to PEOPLE and CNBC. As someone who has been deeply inspired by National Geographic from an early age, you can imagine just how meaningful this was!

This post is part of an annual tradition.  For previous years, check out 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021 and of course, don’t miss the color post from 2022.

For my daily photo posts feel free to tune in and follow along via Instagram @virtualwayfarer.

Questions about how I composed or took a specific photo? Feel free to ask in a comment. You’re also encouraged to check out my complete flickr albums here which include the many other shots from 2022 (and previous years) which didn’t make it in this post. As you can imagine, picking “just” 100 photos for this is actually quite difficult!

As is true of my style more broadly, virtually every photo in this list is a single shot. I don’t do bracketing, blending, replacement or focus stacking. Nothing has been added/removed outside of correcting lens spots. Generally my edits focus on adjusting sharpness, contrast, dodging and burning, and some mild saturation and color enhancement to bring the photos closer to what I saw in the moment.

Thanks for joining me on this exploration of my favorite color photos from 2022. For these photos I used a Sony A7R III camera with a mixture of lenses. These included a Sigma 100-400, a Sony 24-70 F4, and a Tamron 17-28M.

Every year I post 100 of my favorite photos from the year’s travels. As part of my photo-editing process, I edit my photos chronologically. This means that the more travel or photo-intensive my trips are, the longer it tends to take me to close out a year.

2022 was a lovely year of travels and included visits to the American Southwest, Austria, Italy, Norway, Vietnam, Sweden and Denmark. It also included an incredible honor and exciting award as I was recognized as one of 9 Honorable Mentions in the 2022 National Geographic ‘Pictures of the Year’ photo contest. This was an incredible honor and featured across the internet from Good Morning America to PEOPLE and CNBC. As someone who has been deeply inspired by National Geographic from an early age, you can imagine just how meaningful this was!

This post is part of an annual tradition.  For previous years, check out 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020 and 2021. You can also see my 100 favorite black and white shots from 2021 (HERE). My top 100 shots in black and white from 2022 will come soon.

For my daily photo posts feel free to tune in and follow along via Instagram @virtualwayfarer.

Questions about how I composed or took a specific photo? Feel free to ask in a comment. You’re also encouraged to check out my complete flickr albums here which include the many other shots from 2022 (and previous years) which didn’t make it in this post. As you can imagine, picking “just” 100 photos for this is actually quite difficult!

As is true of my style more broadly, virtually every photo in this list is a single shot. I don’t do bracketing, blending, replacement or focus stacking. Nothing has been added/removed outside of correcting lens spots. Generally my edits focus on adjusting sharpness, contrast, dodging and burning, and some mild saturation and color enhancement to bring the photos closer to what I saw in the moment.

Thanks for joining me on this exploration of my favorite color photos from 2022. For these photos I used a Sony A7R III camera with a mixture of lenses. These included a Sigma 100-400, a Sony 24-70 F4, and a Tamron 17-28M.

Another year in the books! This one certainly raced past. All in all it was a great year and I’ve got a lot to be grateful for. The world properly re-opened. Work has been good. I’ve had a series of exciting successes. Some difficult family health issues that arose ended up being resolved positively. I continue to love Copenhagen and I’ve enjoyed some fantastic travels.

So, what’s this post? As some of you have now come to anticipate – every year I publish a birthday reflection post. I hope you’ll enjoy these thoughts and take them for what they are – an attempt to share the world as I see it and how I relate to it. It’s a mixture of observations, musings, reflections, and advice. They’re extremely long and by all rights if I just broke them up into individual posts, I’d have more than 4 posts a year. But, this is the approach I’m sticking with and which actually gets pen-to-paper. Skip around, jump to what looks interesting, or take it from cover to cover. Your call =)

You can view my 37th birthday post here, 36th birthday post here, 35th birthday post here, 34th birthday post here, 33rd birthday post here, 32nd birthday post here, 31st birthday post here, my more detailed 30th birthday post here, my musings on turning 29 here, or 28 here. As well as a long-forgotten blog post written on my 23rd birthday (wow, have I really been blogging that long?) which you can view here.

A National Geographic Honorable Mention

Growing up I was deeply inspired by National Geographic like so many others. They gave me glimpses into the stunning diversity and beauty of the world. Its people, its flavors, its natural landscapes. Just the thought of that wide-eyed childish delight and curiosity still invokes goosebumps to this day. At some level, the pursuit of that sense of constant wonder and awe is what drives my passion for travel and helps me intentionally shape how I think about it and approach it. That “National Geographic” semi-photojournalistic approach has also deeply inspired my approach to photography.

When I edit my work I’m very intentional about not adding or removing anything that changes the scene. Many non-photographers would be surprised to learn that there’s a raging debate within photographic circles on what is an acceptable edit, how to edit, and how much you should disclose. Is it OK to remove a piece of trash or an errant bush? Is it OK to swap the sky out from the same location a few hours later? Or a different location altogether? Is it OK to add a bird, or rays of light? What about coloration?

With my work, you’ll find that it’s less dramatic, pops less, and at times may lack some of the intensity that you’ll find on Instagram. But, that’s also because I’ve made the decision to focus on a photo-journalistic, National Geographic-inspired approach. I never remove anything other than lens spots. I never add anything. I rarely focus stack and I never composite. Instead, I focus on enhancing the light that was there in the original moment, bringing out the contrast and making it as photo-realistic to the original scene as I can. It’s something that I simultaneously take a lot of pride in, and find to be a source of deep frustration. In the Instagram era, it’s so easy to hold our photos up side by side with those that are heavily enhanced, composited, retouched, or polished to perfection and feel inadequate. Particularly when it’s anything but clear just what changes have been made.

For National Geographic’s 2022 Picture of the Year photo contest, they set out a series of rigorous requirements. Including the ability to provide a RAW, unedited version of the photo for verification. This lets them check to confirm no substantive changes have been made, and that the photo is…well…a real photo and not a composited fiction.

It’s because of this context – both the historical inspirational dimension, and the focus on equality – that I was incredibly honored to have my photo selected as one of 9 “Honorable Mentions” in this year’s National Geographic Pictures of the Year awards. The photo, which is of a golden autumnal tree viewed through silver tree trunks against a background of green, is one I made during David and my Austrian road trip in October.

This was, quite honestly, a high watermark for my photography career and an incredible honor. It was also incredible to see the our final photos featured across a wide range of media, including CNBC, Good Morning America, People Magazine and many more.

Thanks to everyone who has commented and reached out about the photo. And at a deeper level, thanks to everyone who has been so supportive of my photo journey and photography more broadly over the years. As I’ve talked about, I find deep pleasure in it, but also battle heavily with imposter syndrome around it. So it’s always a game of mental tug of war and your comments, and sharing how the photos inspire or impact you is deeply impactful for me!

A New Found Fascination with Etchings

I’ve long adored old maps, particularly the type with blank sections and sea monsters artfully sketched in to fill gaps. But, after an exhibit about Giovanni Battista Piranesi at the Danish State Museum for Art, a newfound interest in Etchings has blossomed.

What are etchings?

Etchings were a highly manual precursor to modern prints and they rose to popularity throughout the seventeenth, eighteenth, and early nineteenth century. Apparently, the technique was first perfected in the fourteenth/fifteenth century as a way to decorate armor (MET).

Essentially you coat a piece of copper in wax, then delicately carve away the wax to create your piece of art. Once you’ve removed those lines of wax, you take the final piece, dip it in acid, and the acid etches lines in where the wax has been removed. From there, you take your copper plate, clean it, coat it in ink, rub the ink off, and then run the plate with a piece of paper on top, through a press under a significant amount of pressure. This forces the paper down into the lines filled with ink, and transfers it onto the paper. You can see a walk-through in this article from the MET Museum.

What do I find fascinating about them?

In addition to the process which was used to create these works of art, and the visual style that is present in many of the masterpieces, I’m captivated by their accessibility and the magic of the world they present.

Many of these etchings present sometimes realistic, sometimes fanciful depictions of Europe and the Middle East during the age of exploration. More than that, they appeal to my love of realism as a visual style, paired with views of archeological wonders and daily life which had already been renovated or destroyed by the time the age of photography came along.

While oil paintings from the 1600s and 1700s are difficult to access, expensive, and are often damaged or deteriorated – these etchings have held up incredibly well. They’re an interesting transitional artifact. Something that was valued and treasured as a piece of considerable value, art, and rarity across multiple centuries. But then, as technology – namely photography and printing – evolved, became less of interest, less rare, and fell by the wayside.

It’s a fascinating opportunity to pick up stunning work, with a blend of deep history and artistry, that is hundreds of years old. And, while works like Piranesi’s currently sell for hundreds of dollars – throughout Europe other etchings are sold off for less than the price of a postcard.

There’s something that gives me goosebumps when getting lost in the details of some of these etchings. I also love that on an authentic etching you can see a sort of framing-like effect where the press for the primary image was applied and the paper was squashed thin and smooth.

So, now I’m out on the hunt. Checking stores, watching FB marketplace, and wondering when and where I’ll find an etching or two that speaks to me enough to find its way to my wall.

Pivot with Confidence

Growing up, traveling on a tight budget helped us to do things that were far outside the norm. It meant sneaking a camping stove into hotels with us to cook simple dinners, more ham sandwiches than I care to remember, and splitting a single Whopper Meal soda and fries supplemented with 3 $1 whoppers between the four of us. As a young kid, it was at times a bit embarrassing. As an adult, I appreciate just how much freedom and opportunity that bought us and the power of it.

At the same time, I also grew up with a very strong set of values around commitment. If I say I’ll be somewhere, or have booked something – it’s quite uncomfortable for me to skip/cancel. More than that, it often doesn’t even register as a possibility. It’s a trait I’m proud of, and which generally serves me quite well.

Cue travel and the ‘sunk cost fallacy’. Over time, I’ve become increasingly aware that while those two traits are generally very positive and beneficial – they make me particularly susceptible to the sunk cost fallacy. Or, to put it differently, the belief that because a certain amount of money or time is invested, you have to see that through rather than investing more money or time to make a change. In a travel context, this means that because I’ve spent money to get to a destination, or potentially booked a hotel for multiple nights, or have an outbound flight in X days – that I should suck it up, and stay in that destination/at that hotel/in that area/take that flight even if I dislike the area, am unhappy, or have other concerns. Layer on top that there would be an added cost (eg re-booking another hotel or an additional flight) and you’ve got a prime case of the sunk cost fallacy consuming valuable time and energy and costing me potential opportunities for deeper and more positive enjoyment.

This past year I decided to be more aware of this tendency, to overpower it, and instead prioritize time, enjoyment, and safety. This led to two instances where I deployed the new approach and both affirmed the decision.

Vietnam

The first was in Vietnam during my Easter trip. The country had just re-opened from their pandemic lockdown. I had roughly two weeks, and was traveling relatively spur of the moment. I adore Vietnam. The people are incredible, the nature is stunning, the food and culture are beyond compare. But, as I looked at places to visit after I spent a few days in Hanoi and Tam Coc, I heard Da Nang was decent, and Hoi An was fantastic. I booked a cheap flight from Hanoi to Da Nang and booked a two night stay just off the beach for $15 a night.

The flight went smoothly, the taxi out to the hotel was easy, and the hotel room itself was nice. Even the beach was decent. But, the city? I hated it. It felt like everything I dislike about a fusion of Dubai and Las Vegas. After checking in, I took an hour and a half to walk the beach and local strip and to find some food. By the time I got back to the hotel I could feel I was done with the city. But, I still had more than a day and a half booked. Ordinarily, I’d force myself to sit in the hotel, to try and make the best of it, and to wait out the clock. Luckily, when I chatted that evening with friends who had been to the area they uniformly said – go to Hoi An. It’s different, it’s better, you’ll like it more.

Before long I’d booked accommodation for the following evening, checked the cost of a Gab the 45 minutes down the coast (Uber), and decided I’d abandon the second evening in Da Nang. The whole thing felt uncomfortable. It felt like I was doing something wrong. Particularly as I went to check out of the hotel – even though I was eating the cost of that 2nd night – thoughts of the potential insult and message I might be sending to the hotel owners raced through my mind. Still, all went smoothly, the cab ride down to Hoi An was pleasant. And then, true to promise, I had an incredible time in Hoi An. I went from unhappy in a shitty version of Vegas, to sitting in a lovely quiet accommodation 100m off a deserted beach, in a small one-lane beachside town with incredible food, and a quick 15-minute scooter ride to one of Vietnam’s most iconic and beautiful old towns.

In total? The pivot cost me about $30, saved me a day and a half, and led to a much, much happier experience. If I hadn’t made the pivot and waited out my reservation in Da Nang, it was a 50/50 chance that I’d have opted to just jump via air back to Hanoi or another city/region instead of rolling the dice further and heading down to Hoi An.

Lesson learned.

Turkey, Quakes, Tragedy and a Pivot to Italy

Fast forward almost a year to February in Istanbul. For close to a decade I’ve been eager to get out to the Turkish city of Van and surrounding area, as well as the ruins of Gaziantep in the south. Each time I’ve looked at it, various issues have arisen. Earthquakes, crippling cold spells, the conflict in Syria, safety concerns, and – as fate would have it, an earthquake once again.

From past trips I knew that flights inside Turkey tend to be quite cheap and can be booked last minute – not unlike Asia and parts of Europe. So for this trip I decided I’d head to Turkey, then jump out to either Van or Gaziantep and consider renting a car / exploring the area and doing a bit of winter photography. However, having been in Turkey during a particularly rough cold spell a few years earlier where it was -24C, I wanted to ask around a bit and check conditions before making my final choice.

My initial plan was to land in Istanbul, overnight, then book onward to one of the cities, explore the area, then eventually close the trip out with 2 or 3 days at the end in Istanbul before flying back to Copenhagen. As luck had it, the trip in from the Airport was deeply frustrating and led to my now chronic negative and frustrating interactions with a dishonest taxi driver. I also didn’t realize through outdated knowledge and poor research that the old IST airport had been closed and moved, and the SAW airport was now connected via metro and not just an inconvenient bus.

This all led me to re-organize the trip, and to decide to spend more time in Istanbul at the front end vs flying straight to the south, with the expectation that I’d fly back into SAW from the south, and then stay in the immediate area around the airport before catching my flight home. The prospect of the 1.5 hour trip to get into the town, frustration, and cost – was all just unnecessary.

Little did I know, that this was a profoundly lucky decision and that my mistake saved me from potentially getting caught in a horrific natural and human disaster killing tens of thousands of people.

With rather miserable weather I chuckled and spent Sunday wandering the city. The winds were howling and gusting with flurries of snow. So bad in fact, that flights the following two days started to get canceled due to the winter storm. This just re-affirmed my decision to wait to book as I eyed Wednesday of that week for my trip to the south or east. On Monday morning I woke to news of unfolding disaster and tragedy. The February 6th series of quakes had struck and decimated the region around Gaziantep (these ultimately killed more than 50,000 people).

I read with horror and watched the clips of the area. Acutely aware that if not for luck and a few coin-flip decisions, I might have been there in the heart of the disaster. Following the news, I carried on and re-visited some of my favorite parts of Istanbul. I took the ferry across to the Asian side in the driving snow. Got a $15 SIM card sorted. And then as I sat in a small restaurant having a late lunch, and assuring friends that Istanbul was safe and untouched I read about a second massive quake in the south. It was bad. The clips made it clear that the toll would be horrific and conditions for survivors now homeless in the freezng cold, were dire.

All I could do was scroll through the news, donate, and assure friends Istanbul was untouched. I also sat and asked myself what I could do? I lacked the skills or ability to contribute meaningfully beyond donating to the Red Cross. And the last thing they needed was a foreigner getting in the way. Van and the areas to the far east had been impacted but to a lesser degree – Turkey is a giant country. Should I continue my trip and head out there doing what I could to help support the local economy? Should I stay in Istanbul – an incredible city but one I’d already explored previously fairly exhaustively?

The footage of collapsed stone buildings and pancaked accommodation also weighed heavily on me. My hotel was in the ancient district of Sulthanamet, an old building and sat at the base of a 1,500 year old stone retaining wall. The hotel was just around the corner from the Hagia Sophia Mosque which, as a church in 600 AD had its dome collapse during an earthquake. Istanbul itself sits at the famed meeting between the European and Asian plates – different from the plates responsible for the quake in the south, but still connected. It’s a city that has gone a long time without a quake, but when one strikes – it will strike a city of 20 million people loaded with historic buildings.

I also knew that a huge influx of aid and volunteers would flow into Turkey, overwhelming airfare, transit, and everything related. The reality was, I didn’t need to be there. Even if I mostly felt safe in Istanbul, it was stressing family and friends out, the weather was miserable, and conditions were only set to deteriorate. So, I started to research. I looked at trips to the north along the border with Bulgaria and what train or bus options were there, and then I started looking at flights. Flights home? Flights to the UAE, Flights to Italy and beyond…

By the time I took the ferry back across from the Asian side to the European side, walked a bit and reached my hotel, I’d settled on a plan. I wasn’t going to just call it quits and move up my flight back to Copenhagen, and I wasn’t going to sit in Istanbul and spend a week hiding from the snow with a sense of impending dread. Instead, for $80 I could change my departure flight and move it from Istanbul to Copenhagen the following weekend and book from Istanbul to Milan for 8AM the following morning instead. Then, from Milan I’d rent a car, drive the Dolomites for 5 days and then return from Milan with a cheap Ryan Air ticket from Milan to Copenhagen. I checked car rentals, confirmed prices, managed to re-book my Milan flight, then booked the Ryan air flight which cost about another 90 Euro.

No sooner had I booked the Ryan Air flight though, than an e-mail from Turkish Air arrived that cryptically implied my flight was canceled. Shit. The better part of two hours and a few troubleshooting calls later, I confirmed the flight was canceled and that they’d re-book me to Venice instead, which appeared to be going. At this point, I was committed to getting out of Istanbul ASAP. Ryan Air being Ryan Air, wouldn’t touch my reservation or cancel it, despite the proximity to the booking. Which now left me with an updated flight for the following morning from IST to Venice, and a flight for the end of the week from Milan to Copenhagen.

I got a bite to eat, and then spent another hour and a half trying to figure out why I couldn’t check in and if the Venice flight that I had to leave for the airport for at 4:30AM was actually going to go. Sure enough, around 1AM I got confirmation it was delayed but would go and I should still arrive at the regular time. All fair! After all, the northern part of the country was still shrugging off a heavy snow storm with 200+ flight cancelations and gearing up to tackle the humanitarian crisis in the south.

Cue a 4:30 AM fight with another dishonest taxi driver that includes me having to threaten to call the police and at 5:30 arrival at the airport safe and sound. I got checked in, confirmed my flight, and then with ticket in hand, set to securing the two remaining pieces of my travel itinerary. A car booking in Venice and a flight from Venice back to Copenhagen. I found a $64 car rental (which came to $123 by the time I added insurance and a shady “washing” fee) for 5 days. I then used my SAS Eurobonus points (15,000 points and 22 Euro) to book a ticket from Venice to Copenhagen. This required that I abandon my shitty Ryan Air flight from Milan to Copenhagen.

What followed was an incredible 5 days of sun, peaceful recharging in the mountains, incredible road trip exploration, amazing photographs, and pure joyful contentment. It was also made that much richer and overflowing with gratitude precisely because it was framed against the backdrop of the Turkish tragedy.

So, why put this in the Sunk Cost Fallacy section? For about $200 I was able to pivot away from terrible weather, a natural disaster, a ton of anxiety-inducing uncertainty, and a week of lost vacation and turn it into a positive trip. While $200 is still a considerable amount of money, it’s well within my means to “Eat” and it bought me significantly more happiness and utility. But, it was, at some level, still quite a process for me to be OK with walking away from the $15 SIM card i’d bought for the week, the Ryan Air flight from Milan I couldn’t use, the change fee to update my flight, etc.

My takeaway? Be smart, but be willing to act and focus on the utility and the outcome you’re optimizing for. Be flexible, and embrace the path most likely to deliver positive outcomes.

The Power of Goodwill

Goodwill and Social Capital are central themes I use to understand the world. They have shaped my research over the years, and serve as some of the best tools out there to explain seismic shifts in sentiment, reputation and leeway granted to individuals and organizations.

To rehash what’s Goodwill? It essentially boils down to your social credibility and the perceptive lens your actions are viewed through. What’s Social Capital? Essentially how much of that social credibility you have banked or associated with you and how you can activate that capital for certain outcomes.

If I have a high amount of social capital and goodwill, am at the local restaurant, and forget my wallet – the restaurant owner is likely to let me pay the following day or will trust me to leave, get the money, and come back without any collateral or concern. If I have neutral or negative social capital or goodwill – that’s not only not an option, but my lack of a wallet to pay, is likely to be seen as an attempt to scam the restaurant.

As an added dimension, the loss of goodwill – let’s say you had it, you had trust, and then you exploited that trust or changed your behavior – tends to have a significantly stronger reaction than if you just started and stayed at a neutral level. Why? Because it leaves those who trusted you feeling betrayed. In that way, the loss of goodwill also results in a dramatic loss of social capital.

In recent years Facebook and Google were able to grow exponentially and granted spectacular freedom to operate in large part because they were generating an enormous amount of goodwill and had banked deep reserves of social capital. The likes of Cambridge Analytica for Facebook, and Google’s pivot away from Do No Evil to…well…we stalk you on the toilet, and consistently fail every moral test that comes our way – took a long time to burn through that goodwill and social capital.

When that was exhausted, things that were previously tolerated and given the benefit of the doubt suddenly became red lines. Regulation and anti-trust slam home, new laws are proposed, users continue to use services but with distrust and regret via a feeling of locked in vs. excitement. And when this happens it is sudden and it is particularly shocking for the groups who don’t realize that the rules have changed and the expectations for them have also changed. This in turn leads to major missteps, like we’ve seen from Zuckerberg and Facebook, and it takes years to right the ship and adjust to the new rule-set. You’ll still have two groups of loyalists – though they’ll be significantly reduced in size; individuals who think they can get something out of the relationship and seek to exploit it, and true believers, who still harbor that goodwill.

Musk’s meteoric implosion over the past year is another prime example of this in action. Over the course of 10 months we saw the rapid dismantling of unfounded or misleading mythology around him evaporate as goodwill evaporated and the loss of his social capital led to people taking a more critical look at his actions, his approach, and how his narratives matched to reality.

As an individual he was able to build his companies and ensure the success of each new venture by capitalizing on and exploiting the enormous amount of goodwill and social capital he had accrued. That, in turn, served as a sort of fly-wheel to further amplify and affirm that goodwill and build more capital. For years, this allowed him to receive the benefit of the doubt – it seemed like he was flawed but trending toward societally improving behaviors and good. Until, of course, he wasn’t.

Suddenly deadlines being missed by years were not just accepted as innovation hitting a hitch, they were recognized as intentionally misleading lies and marketing stunts. Gross HR violations and ethical lapses transitioned from assumed oversights coming from an incredibly hard working but well intentioned individual into being recognized as grossly predatory, illegal, and disingenuous exploitative behavior. An individual perceived as a great inventor creating incredible innovations transitioned into a great grifter with virtually no inventions to his name, with an incredible skill for process improvement, packaging, and promotion while claiming credit.

For Musk, his lack of understanding and appreciation for just how dependent he has been on goodwill also led to him lashing out and accelerating the further erosion of that goodwill. In these cases, groups or individuals that experienced long runs of goodwill with deep social capital, feel like any reduction in the benefits and trust they received as a result, is unjust persecution rather than the natural result of their own breach of trust. They lash out. They double down. They claim injustice. But, it’s none of that. It’s just a new degree of accountability and an erosion in goodwill and social capital.

This is in no way to say that we shouldn’t embrace goodwill and that we should distrust organizations and individuals who accrue significant social capital. It’s just to observe that these whiplash moments where social capital evaporates and goodwill reverses don’t come out of nowhere, and follow an interesting pattern. Seeing the world, especially tech, innovation, and social luminaries through this lens goes a long way to help explain sudden changes, major threats, and why these orgs or individuals seemingly make such devastatingly ill-advised comments and actions as the environment changes.

We all live and operate in a world that is shaped by Goodwill. From our relationships to our professional status. It’s something we can all incorporate as well in both how we move through the world and how we interact and engage with others.

The Allure of Conspiracy is a False Sense of Expertise

I’m fascinated, frustrated, exasperated, alarmed and saddened by conspiracy theories. A year or two ago I discovered the Conspiracy Theory Handbook by Stephan Lewandowsky and John Cook which is, to this day, the single best take on analyzing and responding to conspiracy theories. Unfortunately, conspiracy theories are everywhere and outside of academic and scientific circles, it seems many of these conspiracy theories have gone so mainstream that they’re essentially the status quo.

And I get it. With popular media voices like Joe Rogan amplifying and capitalizing on every conspiracy theory he can get his hands on to drive views, and a series of algorithms that naturally introduce and funnel people to engaging media that sounds and looks credible – this stuff IS persuasive. It certainly doesn’t help that for years the History Channel elevated pseudoscience and misleading nonsense. A trend that’s only been accelerated and amplified by Netflix and others. I’ve also noticed that my interest in historical content, maps, and old photos on Facebook in fairly short order swaps compelling recommendations for conspiracy nonsense and absolute drivel – truly recommendation engines at their worst.

But, the challenge I always come back to is why? Why do people spend hours upon hours consuming this content. All of which is often content that is riddled with contradictory and sloppy logic. Content that with even a 10-minute search can be debunked or dismantled. And content that muddies the water between real critical challenging of the status quo and a deluge of bullshit.

For a long time, I thought it was essentially about incomplete information or knowledge. And, to some extent, I think that’s still one dimension. The broader your interests, scientific and historical literacy and point of reference, the easier it is to identify and dismantle basic flaws in the arguments, logic, and misrepresentations of history/science/research that go with it. But, that doesn’t explain the deep appeal, and why these conspiracy theories are so sticky.

I’ve come to believe it’s emotional. In a world where things are so complex, so interdependent, so rapidly changing it becomes incredibly compelling to be presented with a story that is empowering. Not only empowering but which conveys a false sense of expertise. In essence, it’s the same mental mechanism as gambling. It doesn’t matter if you know the game is stacked against you. It doesn’t matter if you’re likely to lose. It also doesn’t matter if you lose consistently. If you can find a few select minor wins, that tease the possibility of taking the pot, many people will play and play and play.

After all, if you are an early adopter of a conspiracy theory, you’re betting that your expertise, wit, and privileged access to knowledge gives you greater expertise and access to truth and accuracy than supposed institutional experts. Layer on top of that that science, medicine, and archeology are constantly working to test existing hypothesis/findings, validate them, and then update those models many of which are incredibly complex or still contain significant open-ended questions and … boom. You have a gambler’s delight. That false allure of mastery and expertise, of making an end-run around the experts to slam dunk your way into the halls of Darwin, Copernicus and Galileo.

Of course, the problem is that, that is not the case. The likes of Darwin and Galileo did the work. They worked tirelessly to test and validate their hypothesis, to document them, and to mark exactly how they upended the previously held status quo. Every leading conspiracy theory I’ve come across so far has largely misrepresented history, misrepresented the data, drawn clearly erroneous misrepresentations of the science, and/or been extremely intentional in cherry-picking to support their argument. Unfortunately, the sheer incompetence, subtle perversion and fragmentation of these misrepresentations makes it very easy to tell persuasive narratives.

It’s such an alien approach to the pursuit of knowledge for me, that it baffles me. But, perhaps a recent personality test helps illustrate why. The FirstMind test, similar to what I wrote about in previous years, ranked my top five traits (out of 34) as Researching, Futurist, Learning, Communicating, Contextual. Those traits capture a singular focus on being accurate vs. being perceived as being right. A strong willingness to do research, and an intuitive focus on blending the future and the past through a contextual framework. It gives me significantly more resiliency around topics where we have a lack of certainty or a lot of ambiguity. And, it means that when I’m critically listening or reading conspiracy theories I can’t help but validate them as I go, which rapidly causes them to fall to threads.

What I would encourage everyone to do, is to be more critical in a consistent and coherently structured way. Take that time spent on false research, or directed research in an echo chamber of misrepresentation or omission, and delve deeper. Pull the primary source material, not bad interpretations. Heck. Just follow most of the steps in the Handbook. Otherwise, just as gamblers almost always eventually lose all their money, the chronic conspiracy theorists eventually lose their common sense and credibility even if they gain some small sliver of social capital and credit within equally befuddled circles.

Relationships and the Initiator’s Dilemma

Years ago I noticed that in general people will typically attempt outreach three times before they give up. So, let’s say I move to a new city, make some acquaintances who I really like, and am eager to see. This can be platonic or it can be romantic. But, ultimately if the other group are the dominant initiators they’ll typically extend three invites before they give up.

This can be as simple as, “Hey, let’s meet for a coffee” or “I’ve got a group of friends getting together next weekend, do you want to join?”. While social media and always-on culture has further constrained this in many contexts, I think it still largely holds true. What I realized at the time was that if by that third invitation, you’re even remotely able to join – if you value that potential relationship, it’s essential you do so as it doesn’t matter how good or valid your reason is…if you miss it, human behavior means that person is highly likely to give up on and abandon future invitations.

This can be a big problem in highly structured settings like Denmark where it’s not uncommon that people have their social calendars locked in weeks if not months in advance. It’s also an area of social development that requires that we all collectively be more intentional in our role in the relationship. Even if you have someone who is very content to be the initiator, they’ll only invest so much time and energy before they give up, and you fall out of their focus. From there, it’s purely on you to re-engage or activate meetups or social engagement. Fair enough, right? After all – by the third missed invite, you’ve effectively signaled disinterest or lack of reliability.

More recently, I’ve seen a manifestation of this pop up in both 1:1 conversations and a lot of the social conversation around dating. In particular, this seems to be especially true for women and focuses on a sense of confusion when a romantic interest or partner suddenly seems to disengage. This leaves a lot of women complaining that men who seemed very interested over a series of dates ultimately suddenly get distant and then just stop engaging. It’s a common point of confusion and a fairly widespread source of angst and frustration. It also often gets misread as (in this case men) not having interest and being fleeting in their focus. But, I’d argue that while that’s sometimes the case, far more often something else is at play.

Quite simply? Men stop initiating and driving conversations and activities.

Modern dating has evolved significantly. Roles are becoming more nuanced, opportunity to hold different spaces in the process is evolving and maturing, and the tools have become far more varied. But, you still see, in many cases, a strong imbalance between initiator and responsive parties. One need only look to apps like Bumble that require women reach out first, and the pushback they’ve received. Now, to be fair, I’m focused on a heterosexual context due to my own focus and experience, and can’t speak to how it applies to other groups – but I imagine it’s still much the same between whomever assumes the initiator role and the responsive role.

So, what’s up? In essence men are expected to reach out and initiate with something charming and differentiated. This is only amplified in places like bars or online dating apps. Men are then expected to drive the conversation and keep it interesting. This then naturally feeds into a fairly common cycle where the man continues to drive the conversation proposing potential dates, meeting times, checking in, and various messages – culturally even a good morning text is usually something that you’ll see men expected to initiate.

But, this is exhausting. It’s also frustrating when you have many women who are slow to respond or have a tendency to skip or forget to respond to individual messages. This makes it particularly difficult to navigate if a lack of response or delayed response is an indication of lack of interest, of a competing interest, or simply a busy day or hap-hazard communication.

So, what happens? At a certain point, a lot of men will just stop initiating. This starts in the form of a back and forth approach to messaging. I say something. You say something. I say something. You say something. People will test that chain occasionally to re-start it, as a double – I say something, I say something. But, they won’t do it consistently and they’ll do it incrementally less over time.

Beyond that, over time, men will hold back on initiating new conversational threads. So, where the dynamic was previously that he’s suggested dates, suggested times to meet, and assumed that general role, men will silently just slowly taper that back, and wait to see if women step in and take a more balanced approach. Why? Because there’s a feeling of exhaustion as you constantly chase and initiate with some level of uncertainty if the other people genuinely wants to join and participate. What’s needed is a mutual sign of eagerness and commitment, that goes beyond just agreeing to show up and being present.

What a lot of women end up perceiving as ghosting is literally little more than a guy pausing and waiting for a woman to initiate or reach out. If days or a week or more go by and there’s no outreach? She’s sent a strong signal and he moves on. By the time she does reach out – if she does – the social relationship has transitioned from an active state to an inactive state.

So, what’s the fix? Be intentional in how you engage, and be mindful that while its rarely 50/50 – after all, we all communicate differently and it IS part of the fun. It’s important to make sure it’s not 100/0 and completely lopsided.

A (Fascinating?) World of Lies: Dating, Filters, and Fibs

Dating right now is comically weird. In the grand historical context, I don’t think dating ever is ever not-weird? But, the new ways it is weird and how technology continues to play with those dynamics is fascinating. So, here’s what I’m finding interesting at the moment.

I generally can’t figure out how I feel about the proliferation of beauty filters in dating apps. Maybe it’s my inner photographer, but damn. My gut impulse is to find their use absurd. I understand the desire to look attractive, and I get that there’s a huge amount of insecurity around getting a good photo. But, it is shocking to see the sheer number of dating profiles that are exclusively or predominantly using photos with extremely heavy filters. Most are so bad they’re obvious. But the quality and nuance is rapidly evolving to the degree that many are rapidly becoming very difficult to identify or differentiate.

We’re only a year out from the famous Japanese case where a 50-year old Japanese man was outed as posing as a sexy female motorcycle influencer in her 20s-30s due to the use of heavy filtering.

And yet, at the same time, a lot of these filters when used selectively can be argued to be comparable to makeup. You’ll see a lot of TikTokers start a video with an offhanded mention, “Just using the filter today, since I’m too lazy to do my makeup.” Which poses an interesting dilemma – at what level is arguing against the use of certain filters for images, different from arguing against the use of makeup?

While my personal preference is more toward minimal or light makeup – I absolutely enjoy, appreciate, and am drawn to photos in which women have elegant makeup on and while I don’t expect it, I also don’t think twice about it. I suppose one dimension is where it adjusts or modifies an individual’s face, eye color, or the like.

But ultimately this brings me to the broader fascination. At some point the whole goal of a dating app is to meet someone in person, right? So if your profile is fundamentally divergent from your actual appearance and identity, what’s the actual plan and thought process? Even worse. What message does it send and precedent if your very initial point of interaction is deceptive?

This brings me to the flip side of dating profiles and recent discussions around my own profile with female friends. What the hell is wrong with men?

Among groups of singles, it’s an almost inescapable ritual to discuss dating profiles, experiences and the like over the course of a beer. What’s working, what’s not working, good stories, bad stories, and everything inbetween. These discussions normally touch on what makes a good photo, if a bio is needed, and if a bio is provided what makes for good bio text. How to strike the balance between interesting, accurate, candid, mysterious, and everything inbetween.

So, I was a bit surprised when a friend flagged a totally unexpected dimension potentially hindering matches: The believability of my profile. We discussed it a bit more and I then checked with a few other female friends. And what came out of those conversations was surprising. Basically, with so many men lying on their profiles and overstating things – my profile, where I highlight unusual experiences such as my run-in with a polar bear and the outcome of my hobbies such as writing a book, and the like – is easily misread as likely lies.

It was a fascinating insight and wakeup call. I’ve known and been annoyed for years by people’s habit of lying both in bars and on dating apps. The classic with men pretending they’re tall, rich, pilots or lawyers, or British, (or single for the matter) are common place. It’s exhausting. It’s annoying. It’s also in my mind predatory and pointless. But you won’t find a bar in a major city without guys peacocking for women as part of the bar banter. Dating apps are no different. And if anything worse. From men faking career success, status, and wealth to hiding second families and wives – it’s perhaps one of the greatest and least talked about ethical pandemics plaguing society. And yet, it never occurred to me just how that might reflect and shape the context my own profile presented in.

After all – how do you build a future on shaky foundations? So, I’ve always been intentional in having recent photos, ones that showcase my passions, my evaporating hairline, and ever so slightly lopsided smile. I can’t think of a time I’ve ever misled in my profile and instead I showcase my hobbies and passions as topics to drive conversation. They’re designed to impress, but not to exaggerate or mislead. But, these conversations with friends made me realize just how odd and unusual my profile is. Not only that but how it starkly contrasts the way I’ve structured my life, my apartment, and my career compared to many conventional paths. In short, I’ve broken the if-then logic that is otherwise an essential tool in navigating dating profiles. And in so doing, there’s only one logical assumption?

It must be fake. And here, to think, for years I thought the biggest barrier to overcome was the algorithm or the lack of a chiseled six-pack.

To make it worse, this year I also received a message from Malaysia on Instagram attempting to confirm my identity. At first, I assumed it had to be a scam. At the end of the day though? It was anything but. It turns out someone, with great care, had scraped my photos and my profile, and was attempting to be me on a UK dating-app in SEA. Why? To what goal? It seems they weren’t after money, weren’t after sex. So what? They’re lonely? How tragic and rancid all at once. And the apps don’t care. It’s impossible to counter, impossible to fend off, and impossible to track down.

At this point, I’m not sure how all this information becomes more than a curiosity. How do we navigate a landscape where via filter and fib even the most basic details are misleading. And what does it say about our threshold for dishonesty and lack of accountability that these deceptions and exaggerations are not viewed as exceptions but are rather accepted as the norm. How many couples started with a lie, laughed their way through it and are now tied to each other? How is that something that so many people are comfortable reconciling? How is anything but zero tolerance acceptable? It fascinates me.

These Are Anything But Good Men

“Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves. Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles? Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit.” ~ Matthew 7:15-17

Problematic or downright terrible advice is prolific at the moment. But, while most bad advice is relatively clear cut, the current incarnation is far more deceptive and far more convoluted. It’s not that it’s anything new, but rather, that it’s deceptive in its packaging. For years I’ve been in a critical minority about popular personalities like Jordan Peterson, Joe Rogan, Jay Shetty and their cohort. Each is distinctly different in the approach they take, and the problematic nature of their messaging and advice, but the outcome is generally the same. You think you’re being inspired, you think you’re able to navigate it effectively and cherry pick the good while recognizing the bad, but ultimately the reality is that “a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit” and unfortunately that fruit is your world view and mindset.

What all three of these, and others like them, have in common is they’re disingenuous at a deep level while actively presenting themselves as the exact opposite. Peterson is the alleged stern-dad focused on accountability with hints of racist grandpa that “says the truth”, Rogan is the alleged unbiased curious chaser of truth and rebel rejecting establishment lies, and Shetty is the alleged embodiment of monk-ish earnestness and authenticity.

One promises to fill a gap in your life and provide earnest hard truths.

The other promises to inform and educate you as your guide, that’s not a guide in the pursuit of knowledge.

The last promises profound insights, humility, growth, and a Dali llama like mindset powered by gratitude.

What makes these three and their peers so difficult and toxic is a lot of what they present is genuinely good or at the very least, interesting, advice. Peterson when he’s drawing on his background as an addiction counselor surfaces good advice for taking accountability of ones action and stepping up. Rogan, an utter lack of authenticity, personal awareness, or criticality aside, will expose you to fascinating topics and some credible information and experts. Meanwhile Shetty, largely because of his propensity for gross plagiarism and re-packaging, will surface and share a lot of fantastic quotes and even more quotes that on the surface sound like great advice but which are fake, contradictory, or misleading.

Unfortunately, each serves up the good with a whole lot of deceptive bad, in a misleading delicious tasting, feel-good, shit sandwich.

Why is this a problem? After all, as smart and capable individuals, we can easily take a critical approach, cherry pick their good advice, and ignore the rest. Right? It’s the common retort. And, if that good advice is powerful and useful – then surely you’re better off than not consuming their content at all.

Which, on the surface has a strong dimension of truth to it. A critical academic can read even some of the most problematic material – take Hitler’s Mein Kampf and find a wealth of interesting insights, input, and takeaways without suddenly becoming an ardent proponent of “the Jewish Peril”. But, what history tells us, is that when we’re a receptive audience, consuming content from an authority that incrementally builds trust through agreement, our ability to differentiate and digest that content through a critical lens erodes.

From a Sales and Marketing / Psychological perspective, if I can engage you in a conversation, mirror your mannerisms in a subtle fashion, use your name, and get you to agree with me, to feel I’m earnest, and feel like I’m on your side, you’ll be exponentially more receptive to whatever I proceed to ask from you or suggest.

And this is where the likes of Peterson are deeply problematic. They suffer from a 15% problem and an incoherence problem. A good 85% of what Peterson states and will suggest is reasonable, it’s historically and behaviorally accurate, and it’s actually decent advice. But, that 15%? That 15% is where the poison fruit resides. He not only misrepresents philosophical and historical realities, but often reverses them or twists them to make the opposite point. He embraces false criticality to justify the very things he alleges to be a strong proponent of (eg; being vehemently opposed to accountability, while being a strong proponent of accountability). He also uses vague abstraction to make seemingly profound or coherent arguments which, when dismantled and challenged or actually analyzed critically contradict or don’t hold up. This was most visible in the first debate between Sam Harris and Jordan Peterson where Harris’ criticality and refusal to let the debate continue until Peterson clearly defined his position led to the conversation imploding and being unable to progress.

The combination of these three dimensions – moving you into a receptive state, then misrepresenting a small but significant part of the discussion, and then providing feel-good but non-substantive arguments essentially undo all the good that comes from the very valid 85%. Unfortunately, the outcome is that individuals take less accountability for their actions, they have a warped perspective of themselves and the world around them, and feel empowered based on a series of falsehoods which seem to provide historical, scientific, and evidence-based credence to that path/ideology and advice.

Do I think the underlying pursuit of knowledge is bad? Not at all. There is clearly an enormous need for people seeking good advice, insight, and opportunities to reflect, digest, and grow. But, I think there’s a profound level of risk and harm done by choosing the wrong ones and I’m very interested in how we differentiate (or fail to). As well as the set of tools that make it easier to detect or identify good vs. bad advice.

Projection as a Guide for Predicting Behavior

There is a certain subset of behaviors prevalent among a cross-section of the population that can provide a powerful insight and be deeply illuminative in both professional and personal interactions. This manifests in a mixture of outrage and conviction.

What is it? It’s using people’s projected accusations and objections as a guide to their inner beliefs, and actions. A clear and easy example of this is far-right politicians in the US. Trump has always been easy to understand IF you look at what he’s attacking and the narratives associated. While sometimes these manifest as attempts to poison the well in advance of some piece of news, eg “I am not a thief, you’re the thief – just as I told the world last week!”. Far more often, you can identify areas of deceit of dodgyness proactively. Once you’ve identified one of these individuals – when they come out and state, “I know this to be true!” I’ll fill in “… because I’m doing it”. This works as highly effective roadmap for predicting their behavior.

In general, these behaviors are the most clear cut when you have individuals with a more self-oriented worldview. For this reason hardcore narcissists which can otherwise seem somewhat hard to predict, become extremely transparent. However, even people with relatively mild levels of narcissisms often will default to this type of behavior and protection of self when they’re operating from a sense of fear or loss of empowerment.

The megachurch pastor or cult leader preaching moral virtual, thrifty spending, the benefits of suffering as moral virtue, and the like – is almost guaranteed to be an immoral individual, spending on lavish indulgences like private airplanes, and an individual projecting morality while being morally bankrupt.

Of course, it stretches far beyond politics and religion. I use it as a filter to digest people’s positions, and as an alert for avoiding certain types of people. It’s one of the tools I used to flag the toxicity and disingenuous nature of Jordan Pederson’s work – when viewed through this lens, of course he’d be intolerant, be incapable of taking accountability for his own actions, and have deep addictive tendencies. When I encounter someone who is deeply homophobic – I know in many cases they’re clearly indicating a deep rejection of their own inner truths. While when I encounter a racist or a xenophobe talking about how “those people” steal jobs, and are inferior – that I’m talking with someone who has deep professional insecurity, is prone to larceny, and feels like they can’t compete. It’s also the same with the modern wave of tragically insecure incel men projecting claims of “Alpha” and various “Gender Superiority” narratives.

The trick, and where there’s a level of nuance required, is when it comes to differentiating truly passionate or invested individuals from the freeriders attempting to co-opt a given narrative, role or structure. If you take the “drain the swamp” narrative about an ardent anti-corruption push – you’ll have two types of individuals. Those with a genuine desire to instill change, who observe issues posed by corruption, and who are dedicated to doing the work to make those changes. And then you’ll see individuals who are deeply corrupt, interested in co-opting the process and narrative of cleaning a system, only to install their own corrupt group of loyalists.

So I ask myself, does this fit their wider pattern of behavior? Can they explain their position and defend it in a more broad context – eg does this truly map to a wider and supported world view, or does it seem more like a broadly expressed opinion based on a more narrow or unfounded base. And are they attempting to co-opt a wider movement, or are they organically engaged and enmeshed in that view? And then lastly, I layer an empathy test.

In this way, I’ll keep an eye out and have identified certain archetypical behaviors and types of individuals that I am immediately more critical of. Then, I’ll evaluate their behavior, signaling, and the causes or narratives they’ve attached themselves to. And then from there, I’ll look for examples of these types of behaviors. Once I’ve spotted a couple, I re-shape my behavior (and if necessary outright avoidance) of these individuals. If it’s less driven by narcissisms and more by deep-seated fears and insecurity, then I also use it as a lens to accept what seems to be a truer manifestation of themselves. This also lets me show up and accept/engage with aspects of them in a different way.

Further Algorithmic Degradation of the Media Landscape

2022 was an incredibly bad year for social media. A lot of the gains have been reversed around quality, filtering, and transparency. Meanwhile the introduction of play-to-play ranking and boosts is reminiscent of the mistakes that imploded Facebook Pages/Groups and severely undercut IG’s quality and competitiveness. While paid boosting in the form of stand-alone boosts for individual creators or preferred ranking bought via “verification” are deeply damaging, there’s also an interesting pattern unfolding that shapes social networks.

A campfire that burns too hot will run out of air, suffocating and burning through its fuel before more can be added. Social media platforms fall victim to the same basic trend and the algorithms are to blame.

Instagram and Facebook, once major sources of engagement, likes, and creativity, are withering on the vine, with most content creators feeling betrayed by the platform but with few reasonable alternatives to go to. Twitter, all of its other recent problems not-withstanding, is being force-switched into a view-tracking algo-driven preferential feed that’s completely abandoned the platform’s primary USP. Snap? Snapped. Meanwhile, TikTok continues to enjoy its meteoric but rapidly slowing ascent with its firehose of traffic, its catchy engagement-hyper-optimized format, and its uncanny ability to identify and serve up compelling content.

But, Tiktok’s Midas touch is starting to turn to lead. Which got me thinking. What ruins social platforms, and why do they inevitably begin to alienate their lifeblood – original content creators.

Ultimately? I think it comes down to two conflicting needs and, once again, the algorithm is inherently to blame. These are reach and revenue – but probably not in the way you’re assuming.
As a consumer of media, we generally want novelty, relevance, and a little recognition. When you open your IG/TikTok/FB/T newsfeed, you don’t want to see the same cat video you’ve seen 30 times all over again. As a cat lover, you probably also don’t want to see a long series of recommendations from the pro-dog, anti-cat posse. But, you also want some sense of familiarity – which is really just an extension of relevance. And perhaps a dusting of the possibility of recognition. After all, isn’t that part of the reason Twitch and other streamers tip?

As a creator of media, you want reach, recognition, and rewards. There’s a ton of work that goes into creating good content for social media. It doesn’t matter if it’s as seemingly casual as laying in bed giving cleaning tips or as complex as posting a photo that cost $1000 in travel expenses, 15 hours in editing time, and 30 hours in wait time to compose. At the end of the day, as a creator, you want your content to reach as many people as possible, you want recognition that they’ve engaged with it and that it had a meaningful impact, and you want rewards in the form of either building an audience, social capital, or monetary opportunities in the form of goods, experiences, or sales that support your cause.

Nothing groundbreaking here.

Social platforms, especially those that are new and rapidly scaling or which are established but remain heavily decentralized, are able to offer a combination of both. You can almost think of it like the proliferation of mom-and-pop shops, each one selling its own unique twist and subset of experiences or products. This is when social platforms are at their most vibrant. You get compelling connections, engagement, the ability to scale and reach new and familiar audiences – and, in some cases, enough breakout success to make a little money.

10,000? 20,000? Maybe even 50,000 views on a piece of content? That’s incredible reach for the typical content creator and exciting. But…of course, it’s also not quite enough to really make a full-time career or start making hundreds of thousands of dollars.

So, with time and consolidation, success (both created organically on the platform or imported from other platforms such as celebrity) leverages the algorithm to reinforce consolidation. In short? Google, Search, and the internet come to town and make it more convenient to shop at first Walmart, then Amazon.

Or in the case of TikTok, 100 users getting 20,000 views for a single video evolves into a single user getting 1,970,000 views and 100 users getting 300 views apiece.

At this point, engagement-optimizing algorithms will continue to amplify this trend and consolidation. In short, all that traffic previously propping up all those local mom-and-pop shops gets diverted. The highway that used to stop in your small town gets re-directed around the city. And everyone ends up being funneled online or to the Walmart two towns over.

What happens?

Boom. The beating heart of your platform dies. The consumer who wants novelty, relevance, and recognition gets less…and less…and less. The content all starts to be the same from person to person, concentrated in fewer and fewer mega accounts or celebrities. The relevance tapers off because you stop getting exposed to new and varied things. And recognition becomes impossible as you simultaneously blend into the millions of invisible viewers and tens of thousands of commenters and as you lose access to surfacing new content that the rest of your network isn’t already also seeing by default.

Welcome to stagnation.

For the content creator – the initial allure that made it worthwhile to post and exciting dries up. Your reach vanishes, and you feel buried; forced to do something shocking, to try and cheat the system, or hope for some breakout that earns you the favor of the algo gods. Even the people who follow you don’t see your content, as the algo buries it in favor of suggestions or content it deems more relevant. So, without reach, recognition quickly fades to dust. For the typical creator – the rewards also fade away. The indie photographer, cool pottery maker, or small business that didn’t need 500 million reviews to benefit are disconnected from their community. And for the rare breakout – the benefits are significant but also usually fickle.

And…before long, some new platform comes along and the reset button gets pressed. The legacy platforms try and pivot; they try and turn back up incentives or force traffic – just as Instagram has done in the past year. But they’re chasing the wrong fix and are only amplifying the problem.

So, what’s the fix?

In an ideal world, a return to chronological or curated feeds. But since that’s not likely to happen any time soon – I believe what you have to fix is the algorithm. Importantly, you have to fix how the algorithm accelerates and decelerates the content it chooses to show. Beyond that, your algorithm needs to optimize for the middle and penalize for the extremes. A robust and healthy ecosystem requires that you actively discourage traditional breakout viral accounts while nurturing novelty. That’s no easy task. As you need to leave enough room to incentivize high-quality content creators and to leave room for the creation of cultural phenomena. But in a way that still prioritizes novelty, innovation, and discovery.

It’s no different than the offline world. If the disparity between your top earners and your bottom earners is extreme, with no middle class, your society struggles. If your society has room for both but a large middle class, your society thrives and innovates.

At the end of the day, your algorithm is the kingmaker. And what we see time and time again is ot so much that fewer people are growing bored with a platform but more a case of them choosing to overthrow unfair rulers and relocate to places where there’s more opportunity.

This is the real danger of Twitter’s pivot to heavily biased algorithmic recommendations; it’s where Instagram desperately needs to reverse course, why most people have given up on their FB news feed, and charts a path to the single greatest threat to Tiktok in the near and long-term. One thing’s for sure. Forcing users to pay a premium for visibility delivers short term income, exploits creators, and all but guarantees the eventual death of a platform. The only question is how long it takes for a sufficiently sturdy alternative to come along.

Looking Forward to 38

So, what’s ahead in 38? It’s hard to know. I’m expecting some fairly big steps and am very hopeful.

Life right now is good. It’s relatively balanced. I have a good job. I have great colleagues. I’m well compensated and make enough but also have enough freedom to do what I want and to be in an empowered space. If all goes according to plan, I’ll buy my first property in the coming months and have a space which is truly my own. Certainly a big step, and an exciting commitment.

Beyond that? I’m not quite sure where I focus. Perhaps revisiting MistDefender, or finally diving into and finishing my second book. More photography for sure – and perhaps I’ll focus on light and color theory with a painting class to help improve the craft. Or, perhaps something totally different – not sure what it might be just yet. Regardless, spring and summer tend to be periods for creative growth for me, and as winter fades I can feel my energy and drive return and itching for a new project to learn and grow through.

37 brought a resumption of free travel, and just days ago some of the last remaining holdouts re-opened their borders. I’ve booked two new countries for next week and cannot wait to travel with my brother and explore Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan. Both for the chance to experience new places and the joy of the road, but also for the fantastic growth that comes from being introduced to new regions and cultures. I also got much more comfortable renting and driving – finally having tackled the streets of Italy not once, but twice.

Last year also brought my longest exclusive relationship in more than a decade. While it didn’t work out for a variety of reasons, it left me feeling inspired, eager to continue to search for the right partner, and I’m also aware of new ways I can push and grow myself. Let’s see what 38 brings =)

As always, THANK YOU to everyone who is part of this weird and wild journey in some way-shape-or form, even if it’s just a comment here or an e-mailed note.

You challenge me, you inform me, you inspire me, you encourage me and you help me grow. You share so much joy with me, and I am profoundly grateful and humbled that you choose to spend part of your precious time with me.

Every year I post 100 of my favorite photos from the year’s travels. As part of my photo-editing process, I edit my photos chronologically. This means that the more travel or photo-intensive my trips are, the longer it tends to take me to close out a year. This is why this post comes in November, though it features photos from 2021. I hope you’ll enjoy the mixture of landscapes and destinations. 2021 was all about a mixture of local photos in the first half of the year, and then good travel photos in the later months as I was finally able to go back out into the world and resume my explorations. This year also marked an interesting milestone as I passed 25,000 (lifetime) photos uploaded on my flickr.

This post is part of an annual tradition.  For previous years, check out 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020 and of course, don’t miss the color post from 2021.

For my daily photo posts feel free to tune in and follow along via Instagram @virtualwayfarer.

Questions about how I composed or took a specific photo? Feel free to ask in a comment. You’re also encouraged to check out my complete flickr albums here which include the many other shots from 2021 (and previous years) which didn’t make it in this post.

Thanks for joining me on this exploration of my favorite color photos from 2021. For these photos I used a Sony A7R III camera with a mixture of lenses. These included a Sony 70-300G, a Sigma 100-400, a Sony 24-70 F4, and a Tamron 17-28M.

Every year I post 100 of my favorite photos from the year’s travels. As part of my photo-editing process, I edit my photos chronologically. This means that the more travel or photo-intensive my trips are, the longer it tends to take me to close out a year. This is why this post comes in September, though it features photos from 2021. I hope you’ll enjoy the mixture of landscapes and destinations. 2021 was all about a mixture of local photos in the first half of the year, and then good travel photos in the later months as I was finally able to go back out into the world and resume my explorations. This year also marked an interesting milestone as I passed 25,000 (lifetime) photos uploaded on my flickr.

This post is part of an annual tradition.  For previous years, check out 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, and 2020. You can also see my 100 favorite black and white shots from 2019 (HERE). My top 100 shots in black and white from 2020 will come soon.

For my daily photo posts feel free to tune in and follow along via Instagram @virtualwayfarer.

Questions about how I composed or took a specific photo? Feel free to ask in a comment. You’re also encouraged to check out my complete flickr albums here which include the many other shots from 2021 (and previous years) which didn’t make it in this post.

Thanks for joining me on this exploration of my favorite color photos from 2020. For these photos I used a Sony A7R III camera with a mixture of lenses. These included a Sony 70-300G, a Sigma 100-400, a Sony 24-70 F4, and a Tamron 17-28M.

Hello 37! How rapidly you have arrived. For those unfamiliar, every year I publish a birthday reflection post. I hope you’ll enjoy these thoughts and take them for what they are – an attempt to share the world as I see it and how I relate to it. It’s a mixture of observations, musings, reflections, and advice.

You can view my 36th birthday post here, 35th birthday post here, 34th birthday post here, 33rd birthday post here, 32nd birthday post here, 31st birthday post here, my more detailed 30th birthday post here, my musings on turning 29 here, or 28 here. As well as a long-forgotten blog post written on my 23rd birthday (wow, have I really been blogging that long?) which you can view here.

These posts are long and they have a lot of widely different topics in them. Feel free to jump between sub-headings.

Arousal Types

Two years ago, I kicked off my birthday post with an in-depth look at different personality types and how they’re useful for introspection. Last year I led with an exploration of Introverts and Extroverts. So, this year it seems only fitting that one of the most pivotal realizations and areas for exploration and growth was around arousal types.

It’s likely no surprise that I love deep conversations with friends and that among my favorites are sex, relationships, and anthropology. So, when a friend reached out and told me there were two episodes of GOOP on Netflix I had to watch, and a quick quiz I had to take, I found myself very torn. On the one hand, I find Gwyneth Paltrow and the majority of what she does through Goop to be active snakeoil salesmanship. I think she’s predatory, encourages extremely poor psychological and physiological health outcomes, and has made a fortune profiteering on people. On the flip-side, I trusted this friend as a source of good insights and am always one to chase quality knowledge, even when it comes from problematic sources. Long-story-short I watched the two episodes, and then took the quiz with a good bit of griping, and eye-rolling along the way. I’m glad I did.

The distilled premise was that a primary point of contention in many relationships and sexual interactions is a mismatch of arousal type. More than that, it’s a lack of the language and awareness to understand our own individual arousal type and that of our partner and to navigate how these two sync. The episodes and quiz draw on a few relational psychologists/sexologists, and make some mixed statements which are a blend of credible and less-credible pop-psych. You can probably still sense my residual skepticism about the broader accuracy of the whole thing. BUT, what they’ve come up with is extremely useful. They categorize these types into 5 primary categories; Energetic, Kinky, Sexual, Shapeshifter, and Sensual.

The quiz, which you can take for free here, is a ridiculously simple 10 or so questions that have lots of prompts where you’re not happy with the answer you eventually settle on. They then send you your results, which come in the form of an e-mail that’s written in pure self-help fluffy nonsense with all sorts of stupid gimmicks as much to avoid spam filters as anything. But, buried in the layers of BS was one of the most spot-on and enlightening sets of quiz results I’ve gotten – and it has been an absolute game-changer in how I reflect on past romantic partners as well as approach relationships going forward.

I cannot recommend highly enough that you, and any potential partners, take it and use it to spark a conversation and to reflect.

Sensual Insights

When my results landed in my inbox, what made them epiphany-level wasn’t any singular stand-alone trait or call out. It was more on par with the experience of looking at a bunch of puzzle pieces in isolation, then stepping back and being shown the puzzle box cover and realizing that they’re all dimensions of the same overall picture. More than that, it made it much easier to contrast against the other archetypes – and realize that there were 4 (or more) other puzzles floating around out there, with puzzle pieces all intermingled. My results:

Now, compare those to the modern messages we get around arousal, especially for men. Modern movies and culture depict the epitome of the modern man oozing testosterone and turned on instantly, ready to tear clothing off at the drop of a hat and have sex in the elevator, back seat of the car, or some other public place. In other pop culture examples a lot of people look at van life right now and think – oh doesn’t that look charming? I look at van life and think – wow, that must be so cramped, dirty, smelly, and unsettled. Each bullet in the above list resonated with me. Both in areas of preference, and where I feel at ease, as well as areas where I have run into a lot of challenges with past partners.

Reading through the list, I was instantly able to connect how each of these aspects of my own preferences fit together in a complementary fashion. I was also immediately able to flip that, and then recognize that some of the best sex, and connection I’ve had has been when I was paired with other Sensuals. While some of the most confusing and misaligned were when I blindly paired up with another type where the social chemistry was good, the intellectual chemistry was compelling, but our arousal dynamic was off. Looking back, I can now recognize times where even a partner I found incredibly attractive failed to successfully arouse me because they had significantly different arousal profiles, sensitivities and time horizons. I assumed in those instances it was stress, nerves, tiredness or other factors. But, I can now recognize it to have been a deeper alignment issue which is both liberating, and exciting in that it both provides a path to understanding, but also for more successfully navigating mismatches in the future (or avoiding them).

It’s also not an exclusive thing where we are best suited to only chasing our own type. In many ways, quite the opposite. But, I do think that once we’ve understood our own type, and our preferences, we can much more healthily engage across types. In my own retrospection, I’ve realized that while I have the strongest and easiest chemistry with other Sensual types I’m also regularly attracted to, but struggle with, the chemistry with Sexual types. I also have heavy curiosity from a conversation, and social chemistry perspective with Kink types – and learn through those conversations – but manifest very little actual arousal or interest due to our polar opposites. Meanwhile, shapeshifters are an organic fit, and Energetic are often the group I’m least likely to engage with across the board. In many ways I see Sensual, Energetic, and Sexual as three different manifestations of types of personality energy. The Energetic are purely aroused by the emotional and related impulse. The Sexual by the physical and related urgent act. The Sensual by the intellectual/contextual dimensions.

So, my key takeaways here? First – it’s a powerful tool to reflect on your preferences, tastes, pacing, and to more deeply understand and internalize these. Second – it’s a great tool for discussing how these map to other individuals and how you need to structure your dates/relationship to get the most out of it. Third – it’s ideal for helping avoid misunderstandings. Fourth – It adds an entire layer to attraction and arousal that fills in in a way that pure social chemistry or physical attraction doesn’t fully capture. I think these are also behavioral traits that map to other aspects of our lives as well. As a food-loving, travel chasing, photographer, with a strong visual-spatial memory and visual aesthetic that’s more logically and situationally driven – my alignment with Sensual and the traits attached is anything but a surprise. So, even without the quiz, I think we’re naturally drawn to similar individuals through how those arousal states manifest in non-sexual parts of our lives.

Moving forward, it’s something I’ve already integrated into my conversations as part of dating. And is something I’d consider including as an early conversation point, or even on a profile.

Aspire To Look Back With Pride

There are so many different narratives shaping our current social, political, and media discourse. Terms like “Culture War” and “Woke Culture” and the like pervade most aspects of our lives. From work to dating, to simply existing in modern culture. In navigating these, I’ve always been fascinated by the friction between what is comfortable and familiar vs. what is new and a departure from the established.

The process of navigating each new wave of changes – technological, cultural, or otherwise – is daunting. It’s exhausting. And, as a college-educated, heterosexual, middle-class, white male – a lot of these changes ask me to give up power, sacrifice opportunity, or to make changes which are sometimes clear cut and other times seemingly contradictory. I see a lot of friends and my peers struggle with this. Both those who – like me – sit within a traditionally entitled position. But, also, just as commonly those coming from a minority background when they’re, in turn, asked to make changes of their own. While there are plenty of issues that are, to be frank, quite confusing. I’ve had a few revelations in the past years for who I want to be and where I want to take inspiration from. These give me a mental model for navigating topics and issues and – I hope – charting the right course.

87. That’s the age my paternal grandfather passed at. As I was three at the time, I obviously don’t have a deep insight into who he was beyond family histories, the book my Dad wrote about his life, and stories from loved ones. But, there’s a lot I do know about him – and in that capacity he helps me as a lens for charting my own course. He was born in 1900. Three years later the Wright brothers took their first flight. By the time women received the right to vote in the US, he was 20 years old, had served as part of the Army Air Corps, survived the first World War and the Spanish Flu.

By the time he was 50, he’d made it through a second world war and the early waves of segregation were crumbling. Brown v. the Board of Education which desegregated schools came into effect when he was 54, same-sex sexual activity was decriminalized in 1962 and he was 67 when interracial marriage in the United States was finally fully legalized. In 1969 – that man who was born 3 years before the Wright brothers took flight, saw America land on the moon.

By the time he passed, the first cellphones were in commercial circulation and the world looked dramatically different. While I don’t know how he felt about each of these moments in history, I know he adapted, he aspired to be a humanist, and he attempted to evolve and improve himself as key pillars in his world changed.

At 83, I see my Grandfather’s journey mirrored in my Dad’s own journey. Born on the cusp of WWII, Dad has continuously navigated a rapidly changing world. And through it, he’s embraced those changes – even when he didn’t fully understand them or it was inconvenient. Not out of – I don’t think – a sense of responsibility or inevitability. But, out of a sense of deep humanism and empathy. I like to think that Grandad could look back and reflect without major regret at how he interacted with people, and judged people throughout the course of his life. I know Dad can.

So, I ask myself – in 2070 when I’m 85 – and I reflect on the world I live in. How it has evolved. And where we are as a culture. How do I want to look back at my life, how I acted, how I treated people, and the decisions I made on the pivotal changes that have and will continue to take place between now and then. While this applies equally to technology and humanity – the weight of being wrong about Women’s Suffrage is vastly different than being wrong about the potential of the Wright Brother’s flying machines.

For me, that answer is simple – even if it isn’t always easy. Headlines, posturing, grandstanding and the like aside. I ask myself – is this an instance where there is a probability that very real harm or disadvantage is taking place and harming a group. Not inconveniencing. But harming. And, if there’s a reasonable probability that that is the case, then my decision is made. Beyond this, I recognize that I’ll be blind to some of these cases, that I won’t understand them, or that they may seem trivial to me. So, I make myself go one step further.

If I’m being told by a reasonable proportion of the impacted group that injustice or harm is taking place. Then, I’ll also push myself to listen. To deeply consider. And then to err on the side of believing them vs. dismissing them.

The final dimension I use is a greater harm test. I ask myself – will this change unjustly and unfairly cause significant harm to another population. And here, again, I very intentionally use the term harm, not inconvenience. Because positive change – things like Suffrage or Interracial marriage – will often inconvenience the status quo as disruption takes place. And by extension, I accept that as that white, middle-class, college-educated, heterosexual male – I’ll likely be inconvenienced quite a few times and quite often over the coming decades. But, if I stay true to this approach – I’ll be able to look back and know that I did my best to stand on the more human, ethical, and empathic side of history.

That’s something that I view as deeply important for my own personal development and character as an individual as well as something that is important to me when I have my own children. Children who, I hope, will look at me and be able to say – yes, my father was born in 1985. Into a world that still had a lot of growing to do. But, he embraced those changes and worked to listen, to be at the forefront of that change, and most importantly – evolved to meet the moment.

Sugar Is The Enemy

Would you be surprised to hear that one of the two biggest epiphanies over the last year came from Ricecream? A fairly consistent theme in past birthday posts, and in Practical Curiosity was a heavily interwoven mixture of fear, discomfort, and anxiety wrapped up around certain types of activities. I’ve known for about 15 years now that I’m lactose intolerant. There may be a small bit of allergy in there as well (the two and how they manifest are different), but I’m definitely lactose intolerant. What I didn’t know, and what I wish I had figured out a good 10-15 years ago as well, is that I’m also apparently sugar intolerant (surprised that’s a thing? I was too. Unfortunately there’s really not a ton of information out there about it compared to the other intolerances).

What does intolerance look like? It’s an inability to easily break down the problematic substance which in turn leads to bloating and agitation. In small amounts, minimal distress and a bit of an uptick in urgency. In medium amounts a bit of bloating and stomach distress / general agitation and an increased urgency to use the facilities. In high amounts extremely painful bloating and explosive stomach distress combined with nausea, heavy sweats and potential vomiting. It’s also not a purge-and-be-done situation. As I feel it usually takes around 24 hours after a medium or heavy run-in to get back to normal. Vivid – right? But, this is also what makes it quite difficult to figure out and diagnose. Particularly since type of sugar or dairy product, amount of water it’s consumed with, etc. all may also dilute the immediate impact.

Some of you may recall that I avoided Asia for a long time, in part out of an aversion to what I was concerned would be challenging or suspect restroom facilities and a lot of transportation that included a “lock-in” element like long bus trips. I thought this was largely tied to anxiety over my lactose intolerance and anxiety over that sense of lock-in relative to exotic foods/street food-induced tummy rumbles and the like.

I eventually narrowed in on it as an issue, when I was enjoying summer ice cream. I started to notice that while a little bit was fine, a full ice cream or more would immediately lead to upset. Knowing I was lactose intolerant, I have focused on alternatives over the years. Soy-cream, Rice-cream, Oat-cream, etc. – but as I rotated through these I noticed each, at any volume, hit my stomach in a similar fashion. So, it wasn’t lactose, it wasn’t soy, it had to be another common denominator. A conversation with a friend by chance included mention of Allium intolerance – Garlic, Onions, etc. – and as I looked that up, I spotted a footnote about sugar intolerance. Sure enough – it clicked.

The Absolutely Worst Possible Solution

As I explored and unpacked my potential sugar intolerance, a lot clicked in that had far far wider implications. I’ve always had a decent amount of social anxiety – the first week of school left me feeling physically ill every year, and that moment when you go around a circle and have to introduce yourself? Heart-pounding, sweaty-palm-inducing, brain overloading terror. Still, I’ve pushed myself to master it and gone on to claw out a relative social comfort that includes a number of 700+ person presentations, and normally includes a few small 30-40 person talks each year. But, in the past few years, I’ve increasingly experienced a spike in my anxiety around these presentations and the severity of my physiological reaction, even as I believe in myself and my ability and understand the exact progression of reactions. It’s been frustrating. Especially as even a 2-3 minute talk can cause me days of distress where my body kicks into fight or flight. I’ve now come to realize that one of the biggest aggravators of this degradation in my ability to navigate presentation anxiety has also been my attempt to solve it.

Over the past year, I’ve come to narrow in on a key dimension that shapes when and where the primitive parts of my brain go into overdrive. It’s moments where there’s some degree of lock-in enforced heavily by social or environmental limits. What this means: A solo self-drive road trip or train where I’m in control over my stops or can get up/move around – there’s a restroom, etc.? Minimal discomfort. Recording an hour-long video that may be seen by 1 Million people? Minimal discomfort. Doing a live 3-minute video, seen by dozens or hundreds? Heavy discomfort. Unfortunately, this also applies to many early dates as well, particularly cocktail dates or dinner dates.

So, let’s unpack why.

In essence, I figured out that in these lock-in type of situations my nerves would act up. My solution? Start to try and condition my body for those moments well in advance. That meant being very careful about what I ate, reducing water intake, taking a pinch of salt before a talk, for dates or before bus rides, I’d cut out alcohol etc. It also meant that I was simultaneously concerned about dehydration, dry-mouth, lack of electrolytes, and in the case of travel – exposure to questionable street food. My universal solution? A coke or pepsi. This, I figured, would soothe my stomach, take care of any dry throat for a talk, but was also aggressive (acidic) enough to help attack any food-born bacteria as well.

I’d effectively cut back on everything else, which in turn, meant I was hitting myself with a super-charged dose of sugar. And, given I’ve been drinking Soda for years and in small amounts, it didn’t upset my stomach – it outwardly appeared to be safe. In reality – just picture, I’m on a date and instead of 4 glasses of wine, I do two glasses of wine and two cokes. Or, I’m slated to go up and give a talk or join a panel, and I’ve just downed half a bottle of soda on an empty, slightly dehydrated stomach. The same for that 4-hour bus ride with no stops and no restroom.

I’ve essentially spent the last few years aggressively conditioning my subconscious to associate distress with these situations. Which, I mentioned previously, was made even more frustrating because I could – with quite consistent certainty – predict a lot of the reactions and manifestations of my aggravated and amplified fight or flight response. I just couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t master it AND why it was getting worse.

So, What Next?

The good news is, I’ve figured it out now. I now know that sugar, like Lactose (another sugar btw) is a major trigger and I understand and know the symptoms when they hit. At some levels, that gives me much more confidence and is a huge liberator when it comes to certain activities. But, unfortunately, I’ve also spent so long conditioning my subconscious to associate these reactions with these types of situations that I still have heavy anxiety-based reactions and some physiological responses to these types of situations even though the sugar-as an agitant is removed. So, my goal for the next couple of years? Slowly re-condition that behavior out.

What I also find very interesting is the way that it manifests in situations where I feel a lack of sense of control/ability to exit or pause without heavy social cost. This also poses an interesting dimension to attack as far as rejecting and overcoming that social performative peer pressure/anxiety and certainly taps into that underlying social anxiety from middle school and high school. It’s definitely an interesting if frustrating blend. But this discovery and a look at the ramifications and how they’ve manifested is – I hope – something useful for some of you. Both in exploring any challenges you may be facing, or in also supporting/better understanding close friends and family who may be somewhere along the way on their own journey.

Eastern Wisdom

With the horrific war of aggression waging in Ukraine right now, I’m once again reminded of a powerful piece of life advice from the road. In the lead-up to my first visit to Vietnam I harbored a fair amount of uncertainty and concern – how would they receive an American? How much residual resentment was there? Was it a safety concern? Something more? Later, when I visited China for the first time, I was once again unsure.

Time and time again in my travels across Asia some variation of a piece of basic advice has been provided. That boils down to, “None of us can control aspects of what our Governments do, or have done – but as people we can and should be judged on what we choose to do as individuals and in the aspects of our lives we can control.”

This basic observation and approach, which I’ve found common and to hold true throughout Asia – was quite different than what I first encountered in Europe or for others visiting the US. But, I also found that it spoke to the core of one of the aspirations in how I travel and live my life.

Ultimately, while there was a terrible historical occurrence that took place between the US and Vietnam – not only was that now largely considered distant history. But, it was a history that, so long as I respected it and focused on bringing humility and earnestness to the table – was not something that translated into ill will or animosity. Quite the opposite, the people I met were earnest, friendly, welcoming and mirrored my smile and open arms. The same again when it came to China. In truth, though I’ve yet to visit Iran, I’m sure much of the same would also hold true there from the many Persian friends I’ve made over the years. This isn’t to say that I’m automatically apologetic about differences in opinion, views, or the things I can control and hold as deeply seated views. But, it does mean that I’m judged on those and the human dynamic as its own dimension, not as a pure extension of the government, the president, or some like-kind institution.

So, how does that map to this year? It’s a powerful tool for me, as I believe deeply in the profoundly unjust nature and execution of the Russian attack. I strongly support military aid in opposition to Russia’s attack for Ukraine, alongside humanitarian aid, and deep sanctions on Russia which have a knock-on effect which do apply pressure (and pain) to the Russian population. BUT, and this is the important BUT – I also strive to keep that guidance in mind when thinking about the few Russians and numerous Belarussians I know. It’s an important lens that lets me see them, and lets me have a profound and heart-aching respect for their acts of opposition, their attempt to enact change, and the fortitude of their own character to push back oppositionally against the deeply unethical behavior of their government even as that co-mingles with aspects of their National Identity.

This, I find, is a powerful gateway to compassion, to comradery, and a path to peace – as well as a core kindness that – as an American – I’ve often been on both sides of.

MistDefender Update – Success and Failure

As most of you likely know – I brainstormed, envisioned, prototyped, built, ordered, and launched MistDefender – a new type of lens cloth for photography – last year. Now, a year in – how’s it going?

It depends on which launch metric I use.

At the outset, I had two goals. The first, was the traditional goal – to launch a new product as a side-hustle that would take the lens cloth market by storm and sell out resulting in a lovely pay-day both covering the full cost of manufacturing and translating into a decent payout. This, of course, came with the possibility of further scaling up the orders, managing the logistics, re-orders and then trying to either scale MistDefender or sell it.

The second was to look at the overall cost for the full project, inventory, marketing, and everything in between. Then to take that cost, and evaluate it in the context of approximately what a semester at a major University would cost (let’s say the $12,000 or so you’d pay for a semester as an Undergrad at my alma matter ASU) and to look at it as a sunk cost for educational purposes. In total, including all expenses for production, several thousand units, trademark etc. MistDefender has run me less than $10K USD out of pocket.

So, how does it look? It’s a significant failure by the first-metric. Which is disappointing, but not unexpected. At the same time, it’s a fantastic success by the second-metric. And while over time the first-metric may evolve, change, and pivot into more of a success. I’ve currently only sold about 5% of my inventory.

What I’m Very Proud Of

• I did it. I envisioned it. I prototyped it. I got it manufactured. I designed the packaging. I launched it. I sold it to strangers. They loved it.
• I applied for my Trademark on my own, without using a lawyer, self-educated myself on the process, and was successful in securing the Trademark.
• I had an origional idea that has re-invented one of the least innovated aspects of every photographer’s kit and I took that to market as the only product of its kind.

What I’ve Learned

• How to request quotes, prototype a product, and work with vendors in the US, and China.
• An enormous amount about how eCommerce works, particularly for imported products.
• A ton about intellectual property law, market law, how to set up and run a business, and everything inbetween.
• A ton about product-driven marketing for consumer-based products.
• A lot about product photography.
• So much more from all aspects of the end-to-end process of the creation and go-to-market.
• My Amazon exclusive approach was smart, but ultimately a hindrance.
• The single biggest barrier to adoption is that it requires hands-on exposure to the product to get people to understand how it’s useful and different from traditional lens cloths.
• A still photo on Amazon results pages do not allow for the previous point.
• I likely needed someone else to help with the execution and promotion of the product as I was too close to it.
• My initial strategy for influencer pickup via the YouTube and IG travel photograph/landscape photography community failed.
• The price point/timing/and value offering presented by FB and IG advertising collapsed about 6 months before I launched.
• My reliance on Amazon US as my exclusive distribution platform also further limited/hinder FB/IG’s potential value as promotional channels due to landing page complexities.
• The Pandemic led my launch window to fall in a period where the MistDefender was least inuitive and relevant for photographer’s buying habits.
• A ~1mm miscalculation in my packing’s height, creates a problem for any in-store sales I might otherwise consider.

A Wonderful Bonus

• I have an absolutely brilliant network of friends and family that is so endlessly supportive words don’t do it justice. I knew this going in. But, the way my parents supported, and helped throughout the process. Particularly my mom who brainstormed/assisted with the prototyping of the product, and did – with close family friends who volunteered to help – a ton of heavy lifting packing the products – I feel a deep sense of warmth and appreciation for them every time I think about MistDefender.

So, what’s next for MistDefender? Hopefully continued success. I haven’t been full-in enough or had the bandwidth to commit to innovating, promoting it, getting out there, owning the journey and getting it in front of people. I’ve been a soft-evangelist for it. All of which is fair enough. I’m balancing a full-time job, have been navigating the pandemic, learning about the local real estate market, and navigating the logistics of expat life. But, there’s still time and there’s still enormous potential.

Understanding Bow Waves For Life Success

You may or may not have spent time observing and reflecting on different types of boats (and ships). But, if you have, you’ve noticed that there are very different types of bows that are designed and used for very different types of ships. See the example of different bow types:

Note the range. The traditional barge – a bit like the strange cement barge/houseboat/floating disaster in the photo above which I snapped in Xiapu, China – is made for slow movement. They typically have a slightly rounded, or flat/straight bow and they bulldoze through the water with brute force. Others are designed to rapidly pick up speed, and then effortlessly glide through/over/on top of the water.

How does this map to success? I’m not sure the original source of the example – if it’s something overheard in a podcast, or some sort of quirky synthesis in my own mind. But, over the past couple years I’ve come to see people’s movement through work and life through the lens of types of boats.

In both life and the workplace – we are all moving along at speed. We bring with us, certain preferences, certain strengths, and certain liabilities. But, these in and of themselves are not particularly limiting. What is, however, is how we manifest them and the bow wave we let them create. Most of us are focused on our boat and the sea around us. But, we fail to consider the collision between those two forces and the corresponding resistance and bow wave we’re pushing ahead of us. Most people float with a bit of a conventional bow. It’s decent when slow. It’s decent when fast. It pushes some resistance but works well at a wide range of speeds and overall doesn’t have enough drag to really trigger issues unless the sea gets quite stormy.

But, then there are the people with that straight across, barge-like bow and you can bet – they think they’re diving a standard conventional bow. But, instead, that flat bow is pushing an enormous wave ahead of them. Worse, the faster they try and go, the more that bow wave pushes back and risks swamping the ship. Add in a little bit of chop, or too much brute force, and what happens? You turn your boat into a torpedo, swamped by the sea, taking on water and forced to either sink or come to a near-complete stop and start over.

These people (or behaviors and aspects of our lives) are typically completely oblivious to the type of bow wave they’re pushing – and in turn get taken completely by surprise when they get swamped. Swamped may mean the implosion of their relationships and friendships, it may mean drama at work, getting passed over for a promotion, being flagged as “difficult”, getting fired, or finding themselves feeling underappreciated for what they feel to be a disproportionate amount of work.

At the same time, you also have people who have optimized their bow for smooth and efficient movement at speed. They do a little more work to start, then get up to speed. Everything about their approach reduces friction, reduces their bow wave, and allows them to glide over the sea. These individuals will look like they have good luck, don’t look like they’re working as hard at each individual step, or are perhaps being disproportionately favored or have an “easy” go of it. But, the reality is a matter of efficiency and optimization, not brute force. They’re avoiding the pitfalls that create and build up a heavy bow wave in the form of things like failed deliveries, lack of reliability, lack of personal accountability, lack of gossip or political miscalculations mid missteps.

Far too often in life, I see people with both hands on the boat’s wheel, white-knuckled, arms tense, sweat dripping down their face staring down the length of their boat plowing forward and burying themselves in the ocean. All the while working incredibly hard…to make their own lives more difficult. They’re oblivious to the fact that they have, essentially sunk themselves. This also leads to an essential question we have to ask whenever we run into headwinds, especially if those seem to pop up with any degree of regularity. Have I or am I creating a heavy bow wave here? And if so, which of my actions are responsible and how do I take ownership and change those?

And before you tell me that the reason different bows exist, is that they serve different purposes. That’s true enough and where this metaphor fails. But, we’re more focused on that bow wave, and how to reduce it than the purpose of the boat itself.

Ultimately we all have a bow wave in each area of our lives. Become aware of yours. Explore them. Experiment. And move through life and the world in a significantly different way.

Resuming Motion – Thailand and Oman

In 2019 there were a series of back-to-back trips that felt like a significant breakthrough moment for me on the travel front. While many struggle to believe me when I say that I’m actually a somewhat fearful traveler at heart (or at the very least quite risk-averse) – something I push myself to overcome – there are still many experiences or types of trips that intimidate me. In late 2019 in quick succession I visited remote parts of the country of Georgia as a self-drive trip, then in December ended up in China, Thailand, and Oman on an extended trip during which I self-drove in Oman, worked with a local guide for a few days driving/exploring in China, while traveling the duration of the trip solo.

These were big trips for me because I felt like I was breaking free of the comfort of more established destinations and infrastructure. I was out, I was traveling off the familiar and “safe” path, and I was doing a lot of it solo. Keep in mind, that despite the 50+ countries under my belt, etc. – I still find something like renting a car in Italy to be an intimidating prospect.

Of course, as I was finishing that trip – the virus was raging through a nearby Chinese province. All of which slammed the door shut on the momentum I had built and future plans for follow-up trips to the Stans, western China, and elsewhere. Over the last two years, I’ve still been lucky to travel carefully and responsibly – mostly here within the Nordics.

So, come this past November/December, it was clear that we had reached a pivotal stage in the virus’ life-cycle. I had my shots. And I was trying to decide what to do for my annual big December trip. I could feel the wanderlust nudging me towards another adventure and trying to resume the momentum of 2019 – something that my trips to Norway and Svalbard had certainly helped continue, but in a much more low-key way. As I often do, I pulled up the explore feature on Google Flights thinking … where to next?

As I clicked around, exploring prices for various destinations while looking at entry and quarantine regulations and considering various degrees of risk, price, population density, virus levels, regional behavior and the like. It hit me. The key to re-building that momentum was to re-visit where I left off and felt there was still more I hadn’t seen.

So, then I rolled up my sleeves and started seeing how I could minimize the cost of a ticket and – sure enough – with some creative booking, I was able to find a rewards ticket to Bangkok from Copenhagen for $36 and a flight from Bangkok to Oman, and Oman back to Copenhagen for about $570 bucks. A cheap Omani car rental, and an eVisa later, and I was set to revisit Thailand which I pushed myself to explore a bit deeper. Then returned for an extended set of 8 or so days exploring Oman. Ultimately I ended up re-covering a lot of previously explored territory, as my aspirations for getting into the Empty Quarter ran into logistical blockers. But, throughout – I found myself once again wandering in settings that were unfamiliar, among cultures that were wonderfully warm, welcoming, safe, but also quite different.

It felt good. So, so very good. Even when a few dicey moments – like the time I got my tiny rental car stuck in the sand down a remote side road and had to wait 30 minutes for a passing local and his wife to not only pull me out but help me get back to sand I could drive on.

Did the trip work? Absolutely. Even though my next trip is a return to a familiar Vietnam – which just re-opened its borders a few weeks ago – I can feel the urge to explore. To wander. To push that comfort zone. To try and break free of the cities and the existing established tourist infrastructure. And in the coming year to step around the anxiety and fear or pre-conditioned inaccurate narratives we have about destinations and to explore. To meet incredible locals. To wander back roads with nothing more than a digital map on my phone and eagerness to see what’s on the other side of the horizon. Perhaps this year I’ll finally be able to explore places that fascinate but intimidate me such as Pakistan, India, a remote stretch of southern Chile, parts of the Stans or western China (lockdown and war permitting).

I’m excited. I’m energized. My mouth is watering in anticipation of the food. My fingers twitching eager at the prospect of the photos I’ll take. These trips are so much more than just relaxation, although that and a deep de-stress is undoubtedly part of it. They’re an opportunity for me to demolish inaccurate perceptions, to question cultural narratives, to check and remove subconscious bias, to internalize and build my own self-confidence, autonomy and resilience, and to tease my brain with new flavors, tastes, smells, and experiences.

Photography and My Art

I continue to adore photography. Both as a muse that gets me out, and helps me see the world and that motivates me to seek out remote areas of the earth, climb mountains, sit in the rain, revel in frozen sunrises and the like. But also, as a calming outlet to reflect, to edit, to immerse myself in for thousands of hours of editing time each year while tweaking clarity, contrast, saturation, and the like as I get lost in a meditative process of re-living the moment when the photo was made.

Each genre of photography brings with it massively different creative challenges, logistics, and considerations. Just as Salsa, Waltz, and Breakdancing may be dances – what goes into each shapes the dynamics of the dance, the interaction, the moment and requires radically different skills. In the same way though, as each dance also helps enhance mastery of the next – each genre of photography feeds the next.

What this means for me, is that photography is an endless sea of creative possibilities and avenues to explore. Just as I feel I’ve reached some minimal level of competence in travel or landscape, I’m reminded that there’s so much I can learn as I explore portrait or architecture. And that, in turn, enhances my ability to compose, to edit, to master light, and in turn evolves my travel and landscape photography. Similarly, even when I’ve developed a sense of familiarity with how to navigate, explore, and make compelling photos of the sea, when I face a sand sea – a great desert – I’m once again reminded that I’ve just gotten started. Perhaps it would be maddening for some, but for me, it means it’s a hobby and passion where I can invest time, energy, and learn. It’s a passion where I can feel like I’m making progress and achieving quality outcomes, but without ever truly mastering it. That’s something that excites me, that energizes me, and that when paired with photography as a tool to discover experiences and meet people is a profound gift.

This past year photography has also opened the door to some lovely new friendships. I had the pleasure and honor of presenting my work to a photography club and then was honored by an invitation to return and give a two-hour walk-through of how I edit and compose. Out of it, I made new friends and met a wonderful photographer who knew I was interested in improving my printing knowledge. He invited me to his studio, showed me his process, shared resources with me, and offered a wealth of knowledge driven purely by our shared passion for the craft.

More recently, I found myself listening to some photography podcasts including F-Stop Collaborate and Listen by Matt Payne (podcasts on photography? A visual medium? Funny I know!). As I sat in the car somewhere in Oman listening, a Danish photographer made an appearance. A veteran photojournalist, he talked about his passion for keeping his landscape and nature photography as a hobby. About his approach to photography, to editing, composition and the like. Enjoying the discussion, and hearing him mention he was based just outside of Copenhagen I dropped him a note. Just a quick note to say hi – heard your episode, enjoyed it, and it’s always nice to connect with other local photographers. To my surprise, he pinged back almost immediately and suggested we grab a coffee. That coffee has turned into a friendship and a recent photography road trip into Sweden.

In this way, I also love that photography is a tool that helps me connect with passionate, interesting, creative individuals from a wide range of backgrounds and in a context where age is irevellant. Get a group of photographers together exploring and other social self-selectors like age, gender, or profession all melt-away. What you’re left with is people, curiosity, and in the case of nature and landscape photographers – a deep love for exploring the world.

Photo Competitions

Two years ago I set a goal for myself to submit to more photo competitions and to print more. It’s been a fantastic exercise. Both in considering my work more critically and being forced to choose between pieces in a different way – and also in the process of further distancing myself from sensitivity to critique. 2021 was another solid year, with a number of excellent mentions and placements and while none of these were a first-place prize. They came close, which is something – given the incredible caliber of work out there, and the incredible volumes submitted, that I’m delighted by.

Photo Awards and Mentions in 2021:
– Monochrome Photography Awards 2021: International Black & White Photography Contest: Honorable Mention, Nature Category (Amateur)
– International Photography Awards 2021 (IPA) – Non-Professional – Special-Night Photography – Honorable Mention
– International Photography Awards 2021 (IPA) – One Shot – Our Times : Lockdown Life
– Monovisions Photography Awards 2021: Honorable Mentions – Travel (2x), Landscape, Fine Art
– Independent Photographer: Color Award 2021 Finalist

But, what about in the year to come? I’ve largely stopped submitting. I’ve now enjoyed the process of submitting, and seeing that my work places well. But, I’ve also learned a lot about the limitations, about the eye of the judges, and the overall process. With so many having loose rules, or poorly enforced approaches to the degree of editing that goes into the photos, the story conveyed as well as the deeply subjective nature of the judge’s choices – it’s something where I’m now less inclined to engage. There are still some I’ll actively submit to, but the majority that I’ve previously participated in have served their purpose and are no longer worth dedicating time and money to which I can otherwise be investing in prints, gear, or other avenues.

Welcome 37 – What Will You Bring?

Hello 37! Oh, what will you bring? As the pandemic slowly burns down to simmering embers, the specter of a third world war via the invasion of Ukraine and threatening of the west is flaring. It’s hard not to be profoundly frustrated and disheartened. But, in truth, I find myself optimistic. Not about the toll in death, destruction, and human suffering that these past few years have wrought. Or about the deeply held emotional lacerations, many of us still wear from the 2008 crash and what followed. At times as I think about what comes next, and how to shape and direct my path. It’s daunting. What are the odds of peace, health, and prosperity without significant disruption? How do I position myself to account and protect from the risk of these future curveballs. Can one even manage it?

And here, my travel experiences help. They center me. They remind me – to believe in myself, to surround myself by the people that inspire me, and to focus on charting a rich life I love. To deal with each crisis as it arises, not to freeze in the moment, and to navigate it. To remember we are profoundly adaptable and we innovate. Do that, look to the future, and look to history and I see that humanity perseveres. Evolves. And often winds its way toward a brighter future.

Of course, I also know that’s easy for me to say as I sit in a cozy apartment, in Denmark, with a vacation to Vietnam planned for a few weeks time while others sit in frozen trenches in destroyed cities facing down horrors. And so I work to strike balance. To do what I can for those suffering – not just in Ukraine but across the world where conflicts rage, starvation or disease runs rampant, and worlds are upended. And, then at the same time to appreciate and embrace my good fortune. To soak up every moment of it. To revel and marvel in the blessings that I’m able to enjoy today, and to hope I can continue to make decisions and chart a path that extends those blessings into the years to come.

At the outbreak of the virus, the world speculated that it was the end of travel. The end of tourism as we knew it. The end of a global world. At that point I overly optimistically – but somewhat accurately – predicted that the short-term future was difficult, but the long-term future was bright and rolled my eyes at the doomsdave predictions of a permanent peradigm shift. For the year to come – I feel the realization of that breakthrough and return to a sense of normalcy. It feels like we are on the edge and emerging from that dark abyss. And so, I’ll continue to look forward, to be optimistic, to embrace the moments that come. I’m looking at buying an apartment. Embracing my craft, moving my career forward, and eager to see what wonderful insights, discoveries, and opportunities come in the year ahead.

Thank you all for contributing to this past year, your support, your love, and for joining me in wandering through the reflections in this post. I look forward to what will come in the year to come.

Every year I post 100 of my favorite photos from the year’s travels.  It goes without saying that 2020 wasn’t exactly conducive to travel on the scale of previous years. I’ve actively taken a conservative approach to movement, and focused on best practices. This has meant that most of my time spent photographing in 2020 focused on Denmark. However, during July Governmental guidance created a “Green” corridor for approved travel and freedom of movement within Denmark, Norway and Svalbard. It was during this window that I visited Svalbard and the far north of Norway as part of a road trip from Tromso to Nordkapp.

This post is part of an annual tradition.  For previous years, check out 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019 and of course, don’t miss the color post from 2020.

For my daily photo posts feel free to tune in and follow along via Instagram @virtualwayfarer.

Questions about how I composed or took a specific photo? Feel free to ask in a comment. You’re also encouraged to check out my complete flickr albums here which include the many other shots from 2018 (and previous years) which didn’t make it in this post.

This year I’ve also launched MistDefender, which I prototyped and tested over the course of my trips in 2019 and 2020. It’s a first-of-its-kind update to the photographer’s lens cloth and I’d love if you check it out HERE.

Thanks for joining me on this exploration of my favorite black and white photos from 2020. For these photos I used a Sony A7R III camera with a mixture of lenses. These included a Sony 70-300G, a Sigma 100-400, a Sony 24-70 F4, and a Tamron 17-28M.

Whelp. That was a year. As I re-read last year’s birthday blog post, I get goosebumps. Published on March 31st, a few days after my birthday, the company where I work had just announced a three months 20% salary reduction/one day a week furlough. COVID cases were skyrocketing. I had just jumped on an early flight back from London a few days earlier, cutting a business trip short, and was still pondering if I’d been exposed to COVID during my December visit to the Anhui, Fujian, and Hunan provinces. 

I closed out the post by saying, “So… who knows where this year will take us. Some things will change dramatically. But, in general, history assures me that much will also remain the same. I can only hope that this crisis builds the foundations of a new renaissance in investment in people, social programs, health, welfare, and education. Let’s see where next year finds me. It’s guaranteed to be one heck of an eventful year.” And that seems a fitting way to start this post. 

But first, for those unfamiliar, every year I publish a birthday reflection post. I hope you’ll enjoy these thoughts and take them for what they are – an attempt to share the world as I see it and how I relate to it. You can view my 35th, birthday post here, 34th birthday post here, 33rd birthday post here, 32nd birthday post here, 31st birthday post here, my more detailed 30th birthday post here, my musings on turning 29 here, or 28 here. As well as a long-forgotten blog post written on my 23rd birthday (wow, have I really been blogging that long?) which you can view here. These posts are long and they have a lot of widely different topics in them. Feel free to jump between sub-headings.

Introverts vs. Extroverts

If you asked two dozen folks who know me, most would say I’m an extrovert. In truth, I recharge and function as an introvert. This all just goes to say that social situations drain me of energy, while downtime and recharging lost in projects or operating very much at my own pace recharges me. One of the most interesting aspects of the pandemic and corresponding lockdowns has been a societal reversal from an extrovert-centric environment to an introvert-centric environment. While both groups have suffered significantly during the pandemic, especially as it has dragged on, the crisis has been disproportionately challenging for extroverts. 

It took me a while to understand just how difficult it was for extroverts. At some level, it felt like watching one of those dreadful war scenes where the horses are charging forward and the underground trap suddenly trips them, catapulting line after line of horse and rider forcibly face-first into the ground. It was a strange contrast. After all, on my end, I largely felt the anxiety of the growing pandemic and frustration over the loss of chunks of my routine and social calendar—especially bi-weekly dancing. But, suddenly, not having to push to socialize and being able to relax and take things at my own pace felt almost…nice. The exhaustion and weight of the pandemic and the emotional burden meant that my productivity and overall energy remained flat or declined a bit. But it was more the sensation of having a few grains of sand added to my shoes every day. Nothing like the catastrophic faceplant and semi-panicked behavior I saw from extroverts.

I don’t think there’s any way to actively explore it, but I have a strong suspicion that a large group of COVID deniers are likely just extroverts in such a state of unbalance and dysfunction that they’ll latch on to any life raft to re-socialize. At some level, there’s likely an avenue for future research there, especially when it leads to such adverse societal and health outcomes for both the extroverts and the introverts.

All of this led me to explore my own long-running relationship with the delicate balance between energy, health, and focus. As an introvert, who enjoys many social activities, and who has always pushed himself to engage socially—I’ve spent years mapping how it impacts me and the direct cause and effect. The rush of a major social event or series of social activities and then the corresponding crash, exhaustion, and melancholy mood as I feel depleted brings on a need to recharge in the days that follow. Similarly, building a mixture of in-person and digital conversations that allow me to be social, but at my own pace, with my own timing reflects the focus, intensity, and depth I have energy for in that moment. Other practices, such as my four-day rule which I introduced in last year’s birthday post —are also directly tailored to supporting this balance.

Through personal observation and experience this has led me to the belief that in general we have a highly extrovert-centric society. Which, of course, makes a lot of sense. We are social creatures. We are communally oriented and over time, we have placed an ever-increasing amount of value on pro-social behavior. That pro-social behavior often takes the form of extrovert-leaning activities. Where this becomes interesting in the pandemic sense, is that introverts exist in constant friction with that extroverted societal environment. The way introverts recharge, their timing, their pacing, and the way introverts need to socialize, is constantly misunderstood, attacked, and generally problematic for a more seamless integration with society. Importantly, this means introverts are constantly working to develop coping mechanisms and behaviors that foster a deep level of social resiliency. 

Extroverts? Not so much. For extroverts the solution to a lack of social stimulation or limiting social environment is to double down on the existing social framework. Throw a party, join a sports club, go to a bar, join an activities club, call a bunch of friends and talk on the phone. In this way the solution for an extrovert who has landed in a more introvert-oriented situation is to just pivot away from it and redouble efforts to connect. 

Until they couldn’t. The pandemic did something that is historically exceedingly uncommon. It pivoted the societal paradigm from an extrovert-centric environment and value-system, to a more introvert-oriented value system. In so doing, every coping mechanism and social tool extroverts had at their disposal suddenly became problematic and they found themselves starting from scratch and grossly unprepared for coping with their new environment. Horse and rider mid-gallup suddenly found themselves slammed into an immovable barrier.

Not only has that been challenging for individuals, but also societally it has been deeply problematic as all of their traditionally pro-social behavior actually begins to have the opposite outcome. It has become anti-social behavior that puts the individual and greater group at risk. The result has been large spikes in anxiety, strong feelings of social isolation, and unfortunately a huge uptick in anti-social behavior as many of these individuals have attached to any available lifeline, regardless of whether it was real or the danger it posed. Cue up, the mass adoption of conspiracy theories, anti-vaccine and lockdown protests, and various other deeply damaging activities which have lengthened the pandemic, increased the death rate, and caused significant social issues. Are these purely the domain of extroverts? Not at all. But, where I initially chalked up much of the anti-social behavior purely to narcissism, low levels of empathy, a dab of extremely poor scientific literacy, and excessive egocentric behavior—I’ve come to view it as something a bit different. What we’re actually seeing now are people emotionally drowning and lashing out blindly in a slow-motion state of panic.

Constructively, this poses two big challenges for society moving forward. The first, is how to build and foster some degree of enhanced resiliency in extroverts so they’re better emotionally equipped to weather situations and events that are less extrovert-oriented. While we hopefully won’t face new waves of lockdowns in the coming decades, developing more resilience and better balance should play a powerful and healthy role in enhancing extroverts’ relational success, resistance to conspiracy-based social movements, and similar pressures. The second, is an enhanced level of empathy and awareness for just how challenging the day-to-day status quo in society can be for introverts and the unhealthy pressures that impact them. It’s my hope that if this becomes talked about more broadly, more people will better understand and create more space for introverts to function more seamlessly in social, work, and related environments once we “return to normal”.

The Exploitation of Anonymity in Expat Groups

I think I’ve always been fascinated by culture and people. From the first family trips to Mexico before I could walk, to our year spent backpacking Europe as a family when 11, and later on my summer study abroad trip to the British Isles – it has been an endlessly interesting topic. At times it’s the pursuit of a better understanding of my own culture; other times it’s the fascinating depth of discovering a new culture or cultural sub-category. It shaped my Bachelors and Masters projects and is a dimension of my book, Practical Curiosity.

In my Masters thesis I explored the concept of anonymity and its evolving nature as it shapes hostel and backpacker culture. There, I looked at two competing points of friction. The one – the ever-decreasing anonymity for individuals who wanted to experiment, find themselves, or explore aspects of themselves independent of the network, judgment, and supervision of their home network (think of this as someone from extremely fundamentalist parents, an LGBTQ individual, etc). The second – the way Facebook and social platforms had destroyed a large portion of that anonymity and the related opportunity for self discovery through constant connectivity and monitoring/social bleed (think of this as your grandma being on facebook, your parents, and your boss). This can be challenging, but at the same time, those same networks have made maintaining contacts when we move, who we met on the road, and protecting and continuing memories, has also become much easier.

Little did I know that one side-effect of the pandemic and its massive disruption to every aspect of our lives would include one of the most significant and bizarre betrayals I’ve ever experienced. In July I’ll cross the 10-year mark in Denmark as an expat. As part of that journey, I’ve been lucky to create and join a series of fantastic social groups full of incredible people from around the world. Similar to my approach back in Arizona, the central tenant when facilitating and creating these groups has been a focus on people who are passionate, who are easy-going, don’t fight, are largely drug-free, are motivated and navigate life with accepting open arms. While the groups often include people with robust academic credentials or professional achievements, it’s also equally welcoming to those who decided to skip the degree, or are focused less flashy careers or alternate career paths. The key is they are kind, they are genuine, they are present, and they are supportive of each other.

Similar to the dance community – which can share some characteristics – there’s an unspoken aspect of expat circles that create a space for people to come together and connect based on shared experience, not a long list of pre-qualifications. You share the aspects of your daily life, work and relationships you want to, and the group is curious, but not invasive.

In general this serves as the social lubricant for a healthy and robust expat (or dance) community. It’s one of the things I love about the two. For someone like me who loves different people, different perspectives, and different stories – it’s a beautiful constantly evolving blend of wonderful company.

I’ve now come to realize on reflection, that it’s also, unfortunately, chum in the water for social predators and those with psychopathic tendencies. All of the dimensions I’ve outlined above end up creating an attractive environment for individuals with anti-social behavioral issues. The open and less judgmental nature of international social circles allows skilled individuals to relocate to a new place, shape a profile, and then operate with less scrutiny or back story. If, or when, these individuals are found out, shut out or cut off, the constant changing dynamics of expat groups make it harder to see an immediate correlation. And, if things ultimately go fully south for the individual, they can pick up and relocate to a new city, or country and start over with relative impunity and minimal inconvenience. 

For years there has been a subset of the travel and expat community I’ve actively avoided in part because these individuals tend to be drawn to certain types of events and groups. But, despite that, I’ve now had two people in my ten years in Denmark who managed to penetrate deeply into close social circles, eventually wreaking havoc. Each had a very different behavior profile, and in both cases they had a very polished and honed social skill – the Swiss army knife of sorts – that they used to great effect.

So, what happened most recently? Five years ago we welcomed an individual into the group who had recently relocated to Copenhagen. The story went that she was coming to study for a PhD, had a journalism background, and was introduced to a friend via an extended network. That type of introduction where a friend of a friend sees someone in their network relocating and then aspires to be helpful and makes an introduction.

She was gregarious, often very low-key, extremely well read, and while oddly prickly at times – largely came across as a nurturing motherly figure with a constant eagerness to play the role of confidant. Over the past five years she completed her PhD, went on to teach at several of the local Universities, and then pivoted to a private sector innovation-based regional hub. At least, that was the story.

About two years in, she and I came to heads in a series of exchanges where I noticed she was consistently exclusionary. To others, I’m sure it looked like I was being a bit unfair. After all, cliques are natural and it can be exhausting to maintain a larger circle. But, I was bothered by what I saw as an unwelcoming and exclusionary trend that she’d been nudging things toward. It was an early red flag I overlooked. Eventually we reconciled and later went on to travel together when she asked to join me on one of my 8 day trips. We shared deep and technical conversations, and outside of some ongoing quirkiness in a few of her stories and our conversations about our relationships, our trip went off as planned.

Fast forward to the pandemic, and suddenly I end up being pulled into a conversation that left me shocked and scratching my head. A mutual friend discretely brought it to my attention that while the woman’s name and identity were real, the entire narrative she’d created around the past five years was fabricated. What came next was a series of increasingly rigorous steps to try and disprove the implication. Through an intense feeling of discomfort and as though I was somehow betraying her trust and friendship, I started with Google searches, then university directory searches, then cross-referenced linkedin and other platforms. With each new step, I realized that more and more of the information that should have been there was missing.

With a sinking knot in my stomach, I carefully reached out to a couple others in the group. I was deeply aware that to raise the question risked poisoning not only my relationship but their own. It strayed into unfair territory for the woman if, it all ended up being a malicious lie or misunderstanding. They were shocked but further confirmed what I was running into.

Turns out it was all a lie. There had never been a PhD, not so much as an offer. She’d never graduated or taught. The workplace where she said she worked had never heard of her. Instead, it eventually came out, she worked as a cleaner at a hotel in the countryside. Every aspect of her persona was laced with lies. Down to the photos she claimed she was taking and posting on her instagram of small things like food and the beach.

Worse, I started to learn that under the guise of being the maternal caring listener, she was also being viciously emotionally manipulative behind the scenes, spreading a wealth of lies about folks in the group, and in almost every sense possible a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Eventually, the evidence was such that I had to challenge her, knowing full well it was the right thing to do and regardless of the outcome would kill the friendship. If it was all some misunderstanding – she’d inevitably feel so betrayed it would be unlikely there’d be reconciliation. If it was all the lie it looked to be – that’s a level of dangerous toxicity I won’t tolerate near me.

So, I sent the message. An overview of some of what I knew, a very to-the-facts message, that stressed it was time to come clean or provide a very, very, compelling explanation.

She doubled down. Acted shocked. And offered to set up a coffee with her supposed boss upon her return from a “remote working vacation” 3 months later. She also gave me the name of her “PhD supervisor” and a questionable number to call. The PhD supervisor’s name mirrored that of a Nazi war criminal – which if it was passive-aggressive or coincidence, is impossible to say as no actual academic was active. The coffee with a boss from another country was odd. It was at that point I asked for the simplest bit of evidence to put the whole thing to bed; an e-mail from her work account. An e-mail I knew didn’t exist, as I’d already tried the company’s various standard formulations. As expected, the e-mail never came and that was the end of it. We’ve since made sure she stopped mis-representing the Copenhagen story on her LinkedIn – but within days a new identity popped up in another country.

The true tragedy of the whole thing, is that if she’d come to the table as her true professional self, and the warm-hearted, gregarious, listener that she conveyed herself to be, we’d have welcomed her completely. Luckily, it seems the extent of her interest was social. Just as her polished skill was social deflection and integration, it was also where her efforts ended. No bigger story. No eventful conclusion. Just a shrug, and a pivot to her next long-con.

Normally, I’d avoid dedicating so much space in an annual post to such a negative story. But, it also served as a powerful reminder, and one of my most powerful learning experiences of this past year.

One – Confidence: We’ve heard a lot about gaslighting the past few years. That is to say, “a form of psychological manipulation in which a person or a group covertly sows seeds of doubt in a targeted individual or group, making them question their own memory, perception, or judgment.” But rarely do you see it play out in such a clear-cut way. The truly insidious thing about her approach was that at every step of the way, she hid behind and exploited important aspects of the social contract: trust, respect, privacy, and earnestness. To the point that even at the very end, caught dead to rights, her reaction was to double down and try to bluff her way out of it by exploiting my sense of loyalty.

Even with all of that evidence on hand. Even having been focused purely on the verifiable aspects of things. Even having given her chances beyond what I should have. I still felt guilty and wondered if I wasn’t somehow the bad guy doing the wrong thing…betraying our friendship.

Two – Types of Lies: In the three instances over the years I’ve had a psychopath or near-psychopath slip into extended groups some things are the same, some things are different. They bring some level of charisma and exploit a soft spot. The men have been flashy, gregarious, and outwardly successful both professionally or academically and in meeting women. They’ve built a sort of archetypical male identity, but have also been extremely available. Ultimately, it was their aggressive and disrespectful way of interacting with women, which was the red flag. In the woman’s case, she took on a motherly confidant type of role … that of empathic listener, but honed into a powerful tool. She’d use that illusion of care and curiosity to deflect questions or stories about herself and then draw on other stories she’d been told and shape those into her own myth.

In both cases, part of what makes us vulnerable to these false identities is our own self-interest. The men offer company, validation, and seemingly social or professional opportunities. They seem like an always available drinking/business business partner or wingman that shores up some insecurity or embodies a trait we’re aspiring towards. It’s only later you learn that their approach to getting it is corrupted. In the woman’s case she offered a confidant, someone that plays on our own vanity and desire to tell our story. A clever and carefully crafted ability to casually deflect and mirror in a way that keeps them from having to tell overly complex lies while seemingly conveying a sense that they’ve been sharing at an equally vulnerable and deep level. Even now, more than a year and a half after that 8 day trip, I’m processing through a very real insight into the narcissistic tendencies she was able to exploit. How, after 8 days of long conversations and discussion, could I have walked away without having done enough listening to have seen through her deceptions. True, much of it was about abstract topics like technology. But, still, there’s a deep insight there for me that perhaps my ability to speak and my ability to listen have slipped out of sync over the past few years.   

Three – Toxicity: One thing I’ve observed in all three cases is that these types of damaged profiles typically have a social shelf life of 10-14 months. They’ll often last longer in larger social groups, but only by exploiting the group dynamic. For a mixture of reasons, people will catch on to, or be immune to their bullshit. That, or they’ll be on the receiving end of the manipulative side of things and drop off feeling a mixture of emotions – part betrayal, part unheard, and part gaslit – assuming it’s just them.

By being gregarious, by being constantly available, and by assuming a visible role – the manipulator ingratiates themselves across the group. With limited exposure and information, and their tendency for message control, it creates a situation where those who see through the individual or have an epiphany don’t have an easy path to staying active in the group and confronting the individual. To do so, makes the person doing the right thing, seem like they’re creating issues and having a personality clash. This sort of fight isn’t worth taking a lot of times, or isn’t visible. It drives them from the group.

The psychopathic profile is also fantastic at nudging and manipulating groups through exclusion or lies. I mentioned around the two year mark getting into it with the woman about just this trend. In retrospect it’s clear it wasn’t just traditional clique behavior. It was a need to create a controlled smaller circle where the lies were less likely to get out and the outward appearance was one of exclusion.

The tragedy of these toxic individuals is that they simultaneously corrupt and fragment healthy vibrant and supportive social circles while also doing reputational damage by way of negative association. They can do irreparable harm to deep friendships as well as profound professional harm. The key is to actively pay attention when people are nudging towards exclusionary activities. To always be suspicious of gossip, especially that makes little sense, and be mindful of when and where people drop out of groups. Trust your gut, and strive to avoid confusing availability with authenticity.

Four – Forgiveness and Sympathy: A deep and prolonged deception is never a good thing. But, not all deceptions are equal. It’s important to hold space in your heart to forgive a wrong, a misunderstanding, or a deception. But, at the same time, there is a strong difference between forgiveness, acceptance and reconciliation. To forgive is to acknowledge the wrongdoing, and to wash the slate clean. To accept is to acknowledge the wrongdoing, and decide not to dwell, to focus on moving on, and to ensure you no longer waste time or energy. Reconciliation on the other hand may or may not include forgiveness, but is the intentional decision to re-engage or to continue to engage with a deceptive individual.

In the case I mentioned this year, my approach has been acceptance with a mixture of pity but no road to reconciliation. When dealing with this category of bad actor – they’re not individuals that show isolated bad judgment, or have made a few small mistakes–these are people who repeatedly, at a deep level, make the decision to act in gross personal interest, to mislead, and to exploit the people around them. In her case, there may have been a wide number of reasons and insecurities that motivated the preliminary lie. But at every opportunity that arose to clear the air, to do the right thing, or to act with empathy and integrity – she chose not to. More than that, she doubled down, and doled out egregious gas lighting paired with emotional games and abuse.

In this instance, the absolute best solution is to immediately several all contact and connections. To explain the situation to any mutual friends impacted by the decision. And to accept that the individual is what they are and will continue to be who they are. That the potential or the mask they show the world can’t be fixed by you. We need to be diligent to ensure that the individuals we choose to surround ourselves should always be healthy, earnest, genuinely empathic, and true friends. In these cases I look at the person’s core actions, their default hardwiring and that core firmware that drives them – not the fancy performance they layer on top. Then I use that to make my decision. Keep space in your mind and in your heart to forgive those that deserve it, and who show that they’re learning, growing, and engaging from a place of decency and empathy, not manipulation and self interest. Step away from others inextricably wedded to their dysfunction.

Five – Learn But Remain Open: One of the immediate impulses after something like this comes along is to withdraw or to be skeptical and untrusting. By a pure risk mitigation metric you might assume that because I believe there’s an increased number of these types of predatory personalities drawn to expat communities because of their transitory nature – that I’m skeptical or avoidant of expat communities. Quite the contrary. I think it’s important to keep an eye open and to be aware that they’re there, but to fully embrace and lean into the wonderful accepting, inclusive, and expansive traits that make these communities so powerful. Having a few extra bad apples in the pond is just the tradeoff for enjoying a more diverse, inclusive, and expansive pond. But, it’s also a good reminded to trust your gut and to act with your eyes wide-open.

What’s a MistDefender?

It has now been a few years since I launched my book Practical Curiosity. To my shock and delight it’s still out there finding its way into people’s hands and there were 6 bought in the last 90 days. Given I’m not doing anything to actively promote it—and my original expectation was to sell a grand total of around 5 books, I’m tickled. But, I’ve been a bit quiet on big projects the last couple years and one reason for that is I’ve been slowly working to bring a new project to life.

For more than 15 years, I’ve been wanting to try my hand at a side project. I’ve dabbled here and there, learning skills, and been sidetracked by other projects—my travel blog, the book, and a few others. In the early 00s I was playing with “TwoLikes” that was an idea a bit like elements of Tinder and Hinge. There was also some casual investigation into a travel supplement to fight jetlag, and I had an idea to improve Vitamin D convenience by creating Vitamin D infused gum back in 2016/17. To my parents and brother’s credit, they humor me, listen to each idea, and support me as I contemplate and investigate. 

For a variety of reasons I decided each of the above wasn’t the right blend. Either due to development costs, the rise of established competitors, a lack of core skills (I can’t code beyond basic HTML) or a general tendency toward distraction and loss of interest. But, with each idea I was on the hunt for an innovative and creative project that would allow me to test the concept with a relatively low initial prototyping and development budget. I’ve also been on the lookout for a low maintenance product that I could use to supplement my existing income and without any specific plan or intent for making it my full-time job.

This has been a great mental tool for taking in the world around me. In the same way you might play – guess the person’s back story while at the airport killing time – sitting and observing each person, then breaking down their choice of dress, mannerisms, behavior and other social cues – I’ve looked at the world and considered potential innovations. How does this work? Why does this work? How did they manufacture or develop this? What’s the supply chain? How complex is this? What’s a patent? Trademark? How does global trade work? Essentially I’m constantly looking at the world around me and asking what makes sense, what doesn’t, why and how. 

In addition to the ideas mentioned previously, it also led to other musings and reflections like my post on the potential societal impact of a post-meat world (2018) and a potential idea for a new way of monetizing video content (also 2018). At some level, I was undecided on whether it was simply a great tool for exploring the world around me or if it was actually going to lead to an idea I was ready to commit time, and even more importantly, money into.

Then, the fall after finishing Practical Curiosity, I took an extended road trip with my brother in Iceland. As part of the trip, we photographed in a wide range of challenging environments (after all, what’s Iceland famous for?) and there I had an idea for a new product. I remember vividly when it hit me, sitting and defrosting numb fingers in the car after getting drenched by snowmelt and waterfall mist. From there, as we talked it through, I realized it had the potential to meet many of the criteria I’d set for myself. I think timing was also quite important here, as I’d pushed through my imposter syndrome a few months earlier to publish the book and had it well received which gave me incremental confidence to move forward.

From there I spent the next few months researching and prototyping. I delved into patents, trademarks, Amazon, fulfillment, manufacturing, product imports – you name it. Essentially a crash course in learning the breakdown of costs at each step of the journey, major roadblocks, as well as all the early admin questions that no one teaches you. What’s the difference between a sole proprietorship and an LLC? How do you import a product? How do you engage with manufacturers and not get taken advantage of? Is it really financially viable or practical to file for a patent? Can you defend it? What’s the value of a trademark and does it really require a lawyer? You name it.

Throughout the process, the initial prototype idea and market research moved quickly. Within a few months (and with some prototyping support from my mom) I had a fully functional mockup of the product and a general idea for what the cost would be confirming it was viable. At which point, things stalled out. There was a component I wanted to add but couldn’t figure out how to achieve it. We prototyped and prototyped and prototyped. But, the end result didn’t meet my goals and ultimately undermined the core USPs of the product. In total, I think this burned about a year’s worth of time and energy. True enough, I was also educating myself on all the other aspects of the business including securing the name, branding, and creating the “fun” elements. But, it dragged on, until I realized the solution was to focus on simplicity. From there, I was back in business, and spent another 6 or so months going back and forth with vendors on Alibaba. Each prototype cost me about two weeks and $75 with shipping. I ran into language barriers. Cultural barriers and my absolute lack of knowledge about the space. I had no idea what fabric weights meant or translated into. The same for packaging and paper weight. Have you ever considered how easily scratched a box is? Or how the size and weight of a product will impact Amazon’s storage and fulfillment costs….and shipping costs….and potentially catapult a product from profitable to a loss because it was a few grams too heavy or cm too wide.

It was a fascinating experience and one where I felt like a complete idiot flailing around most of the time. In previous birthday posts I’ve talked a bit about how we have narratives for ourselves and eventually reach a level of mastery and then get comfortable. I’d been beating myself up for letting elements of my world shrink while not replacing them with new narratives or challenges; where I hesitated to start as a novice again out of fear or discomfort. But, I think I also neglected to consider how that really wasn’t true – I was in fact doing it with MistDefender and all that went with it.

Through it all, I had a nagging fear that I was missing some massive piece. That I hadn’t asked some pivotal question that would be common sense to everyone else. After all, why wasn’t there a similar product already on the market? Was I biting off way more than I could chew by tackling so much without any pre-existing expertise in the field? But, throughout the process I constantly reminded myself that while it was good to be careful and cautious, it was also essential that I didn’t use these as excuses to hedge or hide behind. And so, I read. I watched videos. I reached out to people in my network who were fantastic and helped to offer input, and their own experiences, and feedback. And, then I started to take educated risks. 

$75 a prototype adds up, especially when you consider that it’s not just for the item. It’s for each component of the final product. Then separately for the packaging. Even something as simple as labeling and stickers bring added costs and mistakes. Webhosting? Another $100. Want to file a trademark to get improved access on Amazon? $250 to do it yourself, $1,000 if you play it safe with a lawyer. All of which is small potatoes to start a mainstream business – but for an experimental side project? Especially where you’re only likely to make $5 or $10 an item, at most, if you’re lucky? That $1,000 for a trademark would require 100, 200, maybe even 300 sales before I’d even come close to breaking even. Ouch. Each step gives you a much deeper respect for small business owners and just how much each step takes.

Still, it all started to come together. I watched the videos, I researched how to file the trademark, and I got ready to do it myself. Then, I sat and I stared at the screen for two days waiting and second guessing if I was ready to do it. The nature of the product meant that my first order would be more than 1,000 units. It was far from a small commitment. Even with an upfront cost that was within what I’d set for myself as acceptable for startup costs – it wasstill sizable enough to be uncomfortable. And then, the imposter syndrome and second guessing was back. 

I’d proven I could create it. I learned so much from the process. Was I really 100% confident in the product or had I sold myself on my own story. Had I done enough QA and testing? What if the manufacturing was somehow wrong, or the packaging didn’t end up working? Or Amazon rejected me? For those who followed my launch of Practical Curiosity, you may recognize very similar threads and narratives. Even as they stressed me, and I worked through them, I had to chuckle. Again, it was that same fear of putting it out there, of investing in myself, and the risk of public failure. But, it also came with a secondary fear. An ironic fear of too much success. What if I burned through my inventory in days not months? What if it rapidly grew into a major business that needed attention, employees, and to be more than just a side project? Was that what I even wanted? Needless to say, it’s a strange sensation sitting there and freaking yourself out simultaneously about complete failure and raging success with both being equally unlikely.

So, I pushed forward. I placed the orders, and challenges did come up. I had to tweak my packaging due to issues with one of the design flourishes. Amazon rejected my first store request, and then my first brand profile leading to just under a month of delays and petitions to get everything sorted. Some of the first boxes arrived badly damaged by the shipping company/airline and I thought it was going to cost me a number of products. I proceeded with filing the trademark myself. And I have run headlong into challenges getting the digital ads and influencer campaign at a point that generates the awareness and sales volume I am hoping for. 

Yet, despite all of that, the reception and support has been amazing. Early friends and family, and my photography network have been nothing short of spectacularly supportive in picking up a MistDefender, sharing news of it with friends, and leaving ratings and reviews which are so, so, so incredibly helpful early on in the process. Meanwhile, the product has started to move organically … slowly … but in a way that has breached the immediate circles of friends, family and followers – and that’s a very exciting and hopeful indicator for odds of success. Feedback on the functionality, packaging, durability, and feel of the product has also been great. 

So, on many levels, it’s a success and I’ve met and exceeded my preliminary batch of goals. I’ve now launched a real product, brought it to market, and learned an incredible amount through the process. Even if I never sold another MistDefender – I feel that the invested time and money was worth it for what I learned. From early on I looked at it and the cost as comparable to roughly a semester’s tuition at a decent University. And by that metric, it has been a success. 

So from here? We’ll have to see how the next year progresses and where it goes. But, I cannot stress how grateful I am for the folks who have stepped in with feedback, input, suggestions, time, advice, and their own hard earned money to be part of the process. That in and of itself is such an incredible gift and one I’m very grateful for.

Travel: 80 Degrees North

I travelled less during my 35th year than I believe I have at any point in the last 13 years. That’s not to say I wasn’t still very lucky, and didn’t manage around two and a half weeks during a very brief green travel window in full compliance with all legal guidelines in late July/August where I was able to visit Svalbard on an extended sail and then road trip from Tromso, through Senja, to Nordkapp, and then back with my brother. 

It was a magnificent trip and something different. In truth, it was also a bit reckless, even though it was a measured calculation and I’d taken my laptop in case of quarantine. At that point in time, a green corridor had been set up between the Nordics and case counts were extremely low. The Svalbard trip required a lot of care, but included a multi-day cruise running at 50% capacity on a small arctic vessel – this meant about 80 passengers. As the only American on the boat – especially since the US and other countries were all on lockdown – I definitely got some surprised (and concerned) looks before they heard my story, and that I was actually up from Denmark. Luckily, the trip was magnificent, provided fantastic opportunities to cross the famed 80 degrees north latitude line, and gave us a few days in pristine fjords all to ourselves in landscapes that had only seen one other decent sized ship in the previous 6 months.

Of course, while it all worked out fine, the sister ship which we actually passed on our final evening as we steamed back to Longyearbyen, would end up making global headlines when passengers and crew ended up coming down with COVID. Sadly, despite the extensive precautions and care the crew were taking, it likely was somewhat inevitable and after the quick test completed, all sailings were again paused.

From there it was on to Tromso where I met David and we rented a car. Then keeping to ourselves, and nature, we carefully made our way up to Nordkapp – Europe’s most northern point – before winding back down to Alta where he flew home, and then Senja and Tromso where I met a friend who was from the region and then headed home. On a wild hair, and inspired by the early days of the pandemic, I’d rigged up a traveling fishing rod and brought it with me. One of the upsides of lockdown youtubing was binging on a series of foraging and outdoors channels which had me inspired to reconnect with earlier passions. This meant that while I took a decent number of photos, we spent a lot of the time just driving back roads and nature, enjoying the endless arctic days and extremely long sunset/sunrises and doing a bunch of fishing. The shore fishing was unlike anything I’ve experienced, and we’d regularly land 50cm + cod and pollock which also made for a number of spectacular seaside meals made from fresh fish caught, filleted, and cooked within 100 feet. The experience was magnificent and the weather was spectacular throughout – scarily so, given that both while in Svalbard and heading to Nordkapp temperatures were near t-shirt weather and warmer than Copenhagen.

At one point, another highlight involved David and I accidentally climbing the wrong mountain. Or, to be more precise, to the saddle overlooking a spectacular drop and fjord, on the wrong side of a dramatic dragon-tooth like spire. We had made the hour and a half long hike up to the top, scrambling over slick mud-covered scree and sheer largely untamed paths. Only to reach the top, check the map, look at the photos for the spot we were looking at, pull up our cells, reference Google Maps, and then…have a good laugh when we realized the path we took was the wrong one from the wrong end of the village.

More broadly though the trip was definitely a deeply essential one. While business recovered quickly, my employer reacted to the early stages of lockdown by proactively instituting a 20% furlough and salary reduction for 3 months. We didn’t qualify for any government aid, but business quickly rebounded, and by late July, as the furlough wrapped up, it was clear it had been the right choice, and some degree of stability was returning. Still, the uncertainty of being a foreigner, with my visa and so much of my life tied to my job and right to work, was no small stressor. More than that, we were also in the final stages of prepping to launch the single biggest product launch in the company’s history and the marketing and go-to-market component of that was made even more essential by chaos in the market. We’d also picked up a new CEO in April – and that meant things were extra tight and stressful as we adjusted to his new style, proved ourselves, and learned what his vision was. The launch eventually took place in September, and was a fantastic success. But, the combined pressures and stress, in retrospect, took me quite close to burnout and crashing. I knew I was starting to get close to running on fumes before the trip, but it wasn’t until I realized afterwards that I hadn’t even had the energy or bandwidth to do much photography – that I realized just how run down I was. Instead I had barely had the energy to fish and to just slow down and tune into nature, the meditative zen of sailing the fjords, and driving the backroads in silence. All of this served as a powerful mental high-water mark to keep in mind for the future as I focus on maintaining my own healthy balance and equilibrium.

Travel: Stalled Momentum

Travel is always something I find deeply rewarding, but I also find it quite challenging in the leadup to each trip. I’ve talked previously about how my methodical and logical way of thinking brings with it a certain degree of anxiety and a tendency to overly dwell on what-ifs. My trips are usually fairly spur of the moment, and not terribly well planned out. At times, I actually do shockingly little research. But, the big picture anxieties are there and where a trip to Italy no longer gives me any lost sleep, the thought of renting a car there terrifies me. Over the years there have been a few major breakthrough moments where instead of incremental advances in comfort and “braveness”, things jump forward. A major one was my first solo trip to Europe for 3 months after my Bachelors degree. Another was the move to DK. Yet another, the family trip to visit my brother in Zambia. And then a major one which kicked off years of travel and exploration when I finally cracked into Southeast Asia in 2015. 

In many ways 2019 was very much another of these breakthrough years. It picked up momentum when I cracked the Caucasus region, renting a car, and cutting in toward Svaneti and then went into overdrive a few months later with the solo trip to China, Thailand and Oman.

I returned empowered, curious, and confident enough that I was ready to book additional solo trips, with an eye to a whole host of different destinations. But, of course, just as I started to feel that breakthrough and flex that confidence while getting ready to act on new insights into how much more accessible these areas were due to technology and timing – the world slammed shut.

Now, I find myself torn. I’m desperately hungry for the next major trip and chance to explore. I did manage the summer trip, and with it, new experiences and growth. But, I’ve also now lost much of the momentum and boldness that came from 2019. For me, bold and independent travel is a bit like a muscle. It’s something you have to train, you have to grow, and you have to maintain. It has definitely atrophied in the past year. And, given it’ll be months – maybe even nearly another full year – before I’m able to flex it again, I can feel the impact of that stalled momentum. The return of anxiety, the desire for company as a safety net – you name it. 

It’s an interesting challenge for myself over the year to come. Of course, much is out of my hands. Even once I’m able to get vaccinated, it’ll be far from a ticket for unfettered travel and adventures. But, let’s see. The past year has given me ample time to peruse google maps in search of new places to photograph, new cultures to explore, and thanks to youtube – so so many new foods to try.

It’s an interesting reflection of what I suspect will be a challenge for many of us, in many areas of our lives. Pushing ourselves to rebuild and recapture momentum. Beyond that, also preparing ourselves for how we can get a jump start and be prepared as those opportunities come to life. 

Photography Competitions – Checking In

One of my goals last year was to submit more photography to competitions. I’ve come to take the competitions themselves with a grain of salt, as they are quite often profoundly subjective and often feature images that are excessively edited while claiming not to be, or which misrepresent the context or subject matter by using models or heavily designed setups. In other instances the competition is often more about pandering to the judge or batch of judges than any more broad neutral take. In some others you see really weird stuff like unintentionally out of focus shots that beat out tens of thousands of other photos.

Having said all that, they’re still fun, and it’s a fantastic challenge and opportunity to put work out there and see how it lands. I drift back and forth as to whether I think the complexities and sporadic flaws of competitions actually makes them more dynamic and challenging, or just more frustrating. Either way, I shelled out the entry fees and submitted to a number over the course of the year and the results have been fun!

By default, I take a somewhat less common approach to my travel and landscape photography when compared to many digital photographers. I’ll crop, I’ll doge/burn, and enhance colors or sharpness, but I never add or remove elements that were in the shot. Bird in an inconvenient place or piece of trash? It has to stay. Basic cleanup is widely accepted and practiced by the vast majority of landscape and travel photographers – removing bushes on a desert landscape, removing trash or a sign post – that sort of thing. Others are also increasingly introducing composites that stitch together photos taken at different times of day, or different days – such as swapping in clouds or blending exposures to create more dynamic waterfall textures. While yet others will do focus stacking – the only other variation that I’m inclined to experiment with. In these focus stacked shots you take 3-4 photos back to back at different distances, and then combine that into a final photo so front to back is in pin-sharp focus.

So, how’d it go? Surprisingly well – with relatively high near-hit rate though I didn’t crack the final top 3 or win but did secure 6 honorable mentions and a pre-final placement in the Big Picture Competition.

• Photo-is-Light World Photography Contest 2020: Top 10 People Category
• Independent Photographer: Black and White Award 2020 Editor’s Pick
• Monochrome Photography Awards 2020: International Black & White Photography contest: Honorable Mention, Landscapes Category
• Tokyo International Foto Awards 2020: Honorable Mention, Nature-Seasons (Non-Professional)
• World Photographic Cup 2020: Danish Landscape and Wildlife Submission (1 of 3)
• ViewSonic ColorPro Award Top 100, Theme: Kindness

It’s a fun challenge and one I’ll continue to play with. One of the things I like the most about the results is the breadth and range. Some of my placements were color, some were black and white. Others were of landscapes, while one was even a portrait. I love playing with the range, and not locking myself into any specific style, genre, or focus area even if it means that it’s harder to progress and goes against the conventional wisdom for building a portfolio.

Embracing the Weather – Whatever it May Be

There’s one universal constant in conversation. As much as it’s a silly adage and observation, there’s a lot of truth to it. But, the part we often neglect, is that the weather is also a giant barrier and crutch most of us use to limit ourselves.

While the English are probably most famous for mocking their dreary, soggy, and lackluster weather – Copenhagen is never far behind. In may way’s it’s the cooled and half-congealed porridge of climates, stuck half between being wet, half between being frozen with an excessive amount of gray sogginess. I’ve written previously about discovering the absolute magic and joy of a truly sunny day and the euphoric – almost intoxicating experience of suddenly emerging from the dreary cold of gray dark winters into the first bright days of spring.

But, a mixture of nearly 10 years in Denmark, the pandemic and my focus on landscape and travel photography in recent years has taught me something important. Embrace the weather. Even if it’s not the ideal weather for your region. We often look to the weather and use it as a justification to avoid changing or disrupting our routine. It’s too hot. Too cold. Too wet. Too windy. Too sunny. Too humid. You name it.

There’s another old slang proverb that goes to the effect of – there’s no such thing as bad weather, there’s just being dressed for the wrong weather. While there are ample occasions where it’s genuinely not worth the effort or hassle, I increasingly find that some of the most peaceful, relaxing, enjoyable, and beautiful moments actually occur when the weather is “wrong”.

In recent years I’ve started walking much more. In fact, in March I was notified of an interesting inversion: I walked 181 KM (48 hours), biked 1KM, and only drove or took the bus 26km (1 hr) during the entire month. I use the time as mental refresher and divider between work and my evenings. I also use it to listen to podcasts, join clubhouse chats, facetime loved ones, or to just wander in silence. My lifestyle is designed in part to facilitate this. I can walk to work (when going into the office), and have a beautiful series of lakes nearby I now try and walk every day. Yet, there’s always something like this nearby. When I lived in Scottsdale, there were canals and parks nearby. When I lived in Tempe there was campus, Tempe town lake and places to eat. In Prescott, the residential neighborhood on the hill with wildlife at dusk, and a nearby national park. A lot of times I pair it with grabbing food – usually takeout – which I then find a spot to enjoy. Does it get weird looks at times? You bet. But at the end of the day it ends up being a nice added reason to slow down, relax, and find a spot to settle in and relax for a bit.

A prime example was earlier today. With spotty sunny/cloudy spring weather after work I layered up in a heavy jacket and then made my way down to wander around the lakes. As I rounded the first, I was met by a blast of cold wind and the view of a far off storm cloud that took on a mushroom shape with whispy curtains of rain obscuring the ground. Then as I turned, the blue skies were rapidly giving way to roiling multi-layer storm clouds and brilliant light. Instead of hurrying home I kept an eye on the clouds and continued my walk as the light started to really pop – even as a few lone rain drops started to fall and then faded turning into a sporadic slushy hail. From there, instead of wandering home I paused to watch the light change, then changed my dinner plans – walked the KM to a nearby burger king, grabbed a meal to go, then headed to the local park as the hail picked up a bit. Content in my jacket an unperturbed I settled onto a park bench as others went rushing past, and enjoyed my meal – with just a stalwart hungry seagull to keep me company. From there, I waited a bit more for the light to finish popping and then took in the incredible radiant sunset glow that you only get with late high latitude Nordic light, paired with direct sunlight and a high level of moisture in the air.

That light, the smell in the air, the calm, the sense of being centered and control in a situation that otherwise should be the exact opposite – all of it, was only because I’ve come to accept and embrace the weather in all its forms and moods.

Hello 36, Let’s See What Adventures Await!

Somehow 36 feels much more adult and mature than 35 did. There’s a heaviness to it – a subtle hint of implied maturity and a gentle nudge towards less transience and more strategic planning for the future. That’s not to say it’s unpleasant – if anything it’s slightly bittersweet but exhilarating. Of course, I know it’s also entirely subjective – as so many of the undertakings and projects I’m looking at for 36 are things I could have just as easily done at 23, 27, or 30.

These times also highlight what an odd experience it is to be a millennial. To weather each new wave of challenges and experiences and to sit and watch as the melting plot of generations around us go through their own series of reactions and experiences. To be financially secure and stable while coming from a generation that has been broadly devastated by recessions, mass career disruptions, and a grand period of technological innovation and disruption puts everything in a curious light. Then layer on the pandemic and set that to the backdrop of the whiplash cultural evolution slowly unfolding makes for interesting introspection.

Of course, I’m also reminded that every generation has some similar series of events. If it wasn’t the civil rights movement, it was the insane inflation of the 80s. If it wasn’t the invention of the internet and social web, it was the mass commercialization of budget air travel.

At the end of the day I’m broadly positive about the future. About the direction we’re slowly ambling – a few steps forward, a few steps back. Even a few steps sideways seemingly just for shits and giggles. And so, even with the pandemic still raging – I’m hopeful about what’s to come and the course we’re on.

Let’s see what 36 brings. The only thing for certain seems to be that it will be anything but boring.

Every year I post 100 of my favorite photos from the year’s travels.  It goes without saying that 2020 wasn’t exactly conducive to travel on the scale of previous years. I’ve actively taken a conservative approach to movement, and focused on best practices. This has meant that most of my time spent photographing in 2020 focused on Denmark. However, during July Governmental guidance created a “Green” corridor for approved travel and freedom of movement within Denmark, Norway and Svalbard. It was during this window that I visited Svalbard and the far north of Norway as part of a road trip from Tromso to Nordkapp.

This post is part of an annual tradition.  For previous years, check out 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, and 2019. You can also see my 100 favorite black and white shots from 2019 (HERE). My top 100 shots in black and white from 2020 will come soon.

For my daily photo posts feel free to tune in and follow along via Instagram @virtualwayfarer.

Questions about how I composed or took a specific photo? Feel free to ask in a comment. You’re also encouraged to check out my complete flickr albums here which include the many other shots from 2018 (and previous years) which didn’t make it in this post.

This year I’ve also launched MistDefender, which I prototyped and tested over the course of my trips in 2019 and 2020. It’s a first-of-its-kind update to the photographer’s lens cloth and I’d love if you check it out HERE.

Thanks for joining me on this exploration of my favorite color photos from 2020. For these photos I used a Sony A7R III camera with a mixture of lenses. These included a Sony 70-300G, a Sigma 100-400, a Sony 24-70 F4, and a Tamron 17-28M.

Every year I post 100 of my favorite photos from the year’s travels.  Ordinarily, this post comes around the New Year. I’m extremely delayed in getting this post (photos from 2019) written, but had an extensive backlog to work through and have been delayed with work and travels. Now, fully caught up, I’m happy to pull together 100 of my favorite black and white shots from 2019 to share with you. 

This year’s post includes photos from Georgia, Oman, China, The US (Colorado), Scotland, Denmark, and Norway.  After falling in love with my Sony A7RII, for 2019 I upgraded to a Sony A7RIII which gave me better battery performance, better boost shooting for animals and action scenes, and even more dynamic range.

This post is part of an annual tradition.  For previous years, check out 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018 and of course, don’t miss the color post from 2019.

For my daily photo posts feel free to tune in and follow along via Instagram @virtualwayfarer.

Questions about how I composed or took a specific photo? Feel free to ask in a comment. You’re also encouraged to check out my complete flickr albums here which include the many other shots from 2018 (and previous years) which didn’t make it in this post.

Thanks for joining me on this exploration of my favorite color photos from 2019. I always love to hear which two or three photos really speak to you. So, if there are a few that jump out – please comment or send me a tweet or message and let me know which and why! 

Until next time…safe travels, open roads.

Every year I post 100 of my favorite photos from the year’s travels.  Ordinarily, this post comes around the New Year. For 2018 I was a full year delayed due to issues with WordPress. I’m extremely delayed in getting this post (photos from 2019) written, but had an extensive backlog to work through and have been delayed with work and travels. Now, fully caught up, I’m happy to pull together 100 of my favorite color shots from 2019 to share with you. 

This year’s post includes photos from Georgia, Oman, China, The US (Colorado), Scotland, Denmark, and Norway.  After falling in love with my Sony A7RII, for 2019 I upgraded to a Sony A7RIII which gave me better battery performance, better boost shooting for animals and action scenes, and even more dynamic range.

This post is part of an annual tradition.  For previous years, check out 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017 and 2018. You can also see my 100 favorite black and white shots from 2018 (HERE). My top 100 shots in black and white from 2019 will come in the next few months.

For my daily photo posts feel free to tune in and follow along via Instagram @virtualwayfarer.

Questions about how I composed or took a specific photo? Feel free to ask in a comment. You’re also encouraged to check out my complete flickr albums here which include the many other shots from 2018 (and previous years) which didn’t make it in this post.

Thanks for joining me on this exploration of my favorite color photos from 2019.

The tragedy and challenges of the current moment aside, it’s a fascinating period. Are we on the edge of a major paradigm shift?  Will things return to normal?  Is it the end of the world as we knew it over? A look through the headlines and the majority of conversations taking place suggest dire changes. Many also include exciting ideas and innovations—though many of these seem extremely impractical or unlikely to reach adoption due to unpleasant side effects.

As a student of history and human behavior, travel blogger, adtech professional, and lazy futurist, I thought it would be an interesting exercise to scratchpad a few thoughts to spark discussion and to serve as a point of reference for my future self. In this post I’ll run through a mostly high level sprint between key topics while sprinkling in the periodic deep dive. My goal is to provide you with an alternate interpretation or additional food for thought/context for key talking points I currently see taking place which I disagree with or believe are being incorrectly framed.  The majority takes a US/EU centric look at the topics and issues, and pulls partially from my position with a foot in both worlds.

The timing of this crisis matters

For those keeping a close eye on the global economy, we were already well and truly on our way into a recession in the opening days of 2020. All the warning bells were going off, the markets were already starting to slow, and the various artificial stimuli that had been used to prop things up over the previous three years had started to flag.

While it’s impossible to know for sure, all indicators were that we’d be in a moderate to severe recession by the end of 2020 or start of 2021. If we look back to 2008 and the great recession, various bailout packages would have been delayed, the general spending narrative and partisan divides would have been polarized due to it being an election year in the US and any aid packages would have been relatively small, reduced in efficacy, and tagged to a host of different pre-requisites that would have dampened their impact.

There’s never a good time to be struck by a pandemic. There’s also no question that accurate and early reporting out of China, a more intelligent global response, and a semblance of competent leadership out of the US and UK early on would have led to drastically better outcomes. But, if we accept that for what it is, I’m actually thankful that the crisis struck when it did. A year later would have amplified the disaster and found the world even less prepared to respond.

I say this because there is a critical difference in how we respond to a health crisis vs. an economic crisis. Pressing pause on the global economy, shutting down borders, closing shops, transitioning workforces home, and the related steps required to blunt the impact of the virus have a profound impact on people’s lives and financial situations.  But, that has also been accompanied by a level of assistance, pro-active action, and a series of bailout packages that go far, far, far beyond anything imaginable in even the worst purely economic adjustment.

Instead of a deep scratch turning into a festering wound, followed by infection, and a long drawn-out recovery, we’ve immediately turned our attention to the wound, lanced the infection, treated it aggressively with antibiotics and are now attempting to chart a path towards recovery. 

Again, this is in no way to say that the COVID-19 crisis hasn’t needed significantly more aid than a major recession.  But it is to say, that many of the core underlying pain points for the average citizenry in a severe economic crash are also being addressed in part by the response to COVID-19.

Those who believe we were in for blue skies and green pastures indefinitely over the coming 5 years will no doubt fundamentally disagree.  But, for those who were already bracing for recession— there’s some cause to be hopeful that we’ll lose fewer years, be able to bounce back more rapidly, and that the level of economic devastation will be blunted with an accelerated return to growth.

Having said that, do I believe we have reached the bottom yet?  No. I don’t. Especially not when it comes to the public markets which continue to remain artificially propped up. That said, with a lack of alternate safe harbors for money— I expect the US markets will continue to perform better than they should.  Though I anticipate there’s still at least one more hard adjustment needed to bring Wall Street into alignment with Main Street.

The big question—what’s our path to recovery?

Looking to history, human behavior, adaptability, and the psychology of our species, when it comes to risk-taking behavior, I’m generally equal part optimistic and alarmed. I am quite confident that we will see a majority of day-to-day activities return to a semblance of normal across the globe by mid-July. The more localized the activity or business, the more rapid the return to normalcy with things like trans-continental travel the slowest to recover. However, I expect that even these are operating in a recognizable fashion by September at the latest. Vaccines and cheap rapid-testing tools will play a role in this, with cheap rapid-testing kits getting rolled out by the start of Q3. When I look at many of the big assumptions and claims being made about what things will look like from September onward, I can’t help but feel most a grossly off base.

• Is remote work the new norm?
• Is distance learning the new norm?
• Is global travel and the travel industry dead as we knew it?
• Are business trips a thing of the past?
• Are in-person restaurants and dining or shopping dead? 
• Are small restaurants dead?
• Will the workplace, restaurant, or transit vehicle of tomorrow look significantly different than today?

Read the stories and speculation floating around and you’ll assume most of these are not only probable but essentially unavoidable.  I’d argue the reality is much different and the answer to each is actually a resounding “No”. More on that in the following sections including a look at the financial markets with three potential scenarios included at the end. 

As you read through, keep in mind the broader context and think of each of these as moving pieces in play simultaneously. Step back often, and consider how each also has a knock on effect (or dependency) on the others.  

An accelerated path to a vaccine

Current discussion revolves around if a vaccine is ready and when. There are extremely valid reasons that all guidance points to 2021 at the earliest. I’m not a scientist. It’s a topic where we should defer to the scientists and not use anything before it’s tested and approved.  However, I strongly believe that we have a vaccine, or novel but effective treatments ready for (at the very least provisional/targeted) use by October.

There are a few reasons for this.  Many health organizations will view it as essential to get added protections in place in preparation for a resurgence of the virus in winter months. From a timing standpoint, researchers are not, as I understand it, starting from ground zero with the virus due to research and vaccine initiatives previously launched to fight earlier SARS/COVID viruses. From a resource standpoint, the depth and breadth of research being invested is staggering. I say depth AND breadth, because the wide range of different nationalities, backgrounds, and cultural approaches should foster a wider range of research and more paths to a solution.  Additionally, recent breakthroughs in advanced imaging, modeling, editing, and advanced AI’s should further accelerate the candidate, testing, and vetting stages. Due to urgency, key processes are being fast-tracked and expedited. On a grimmer note, the scope and origin of this virus as well as potential impact also leads me to suspect that some of the nation state actors involved in pushing and testing vaccine candidates will accelerate testing despite potential risks to human health, sidestepping potential patient protections we’d see in the US. On a more positive note, the aggressive testing of existing approved medicines and treatments also seems to show promise. Here, again, advanced modeling is, as I understand it, speeding up the process. If we “get lucky” and a silver bullet treatment can be found that repurposes existing medication— the path to fast tracking its use is a given.

All of these factors suggest to me, that we’ll have several candidates ready/almost ready by October. At the very least, some of these might be fast tracked for use among high risk populations (the elderly / etc.) even if not more widely approved.

 (A good listen here: https://www.wsj.com/podcasts/wsj-the-future-of-everything/covid-19-and-ai-tracking-a-virus-finding-a-treatment/f064ac83-c202-40f9-8259-426780b36f2c and reference a freshly reported sample of a vaccine starting trials with potential emergency usage in September here: https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/05/health/pfizer-vaccine-coronavirus.html)

Societal Impact

Is remote work the new norm?

A slice of my academic work in 2007 and 2013 focused on the potential of using virtual worlds for distance learning. The big concern that always came up, was that digital would supplant real-world interaction. It’s an OLD fear. But, just as the holodecks in Star Trek didn’t replace the need for human reaction, remote technologies will not pose a legitimate threat to in-person environments any time soon. To subvert and replace existing in-person environments, the technology has to either A) be able to provide an otherwise indistinguishable experience or B) provide a suitable value add, that makes it situationally superior (or tolerable) to a similar in-person experience.

We won’t see A) happen in the next 20 years. As for B), in the short term, not catching COVID and dying is a significant advantage. However, offices, like academic campuses, serve a wealth of different purposes that go far beyond simply making sure you’re present and working. The rise of co-working spaces is, in part, the very illustration of this. As more flexible work schedules have evolved, and the web has enabled more remote work, you’ve seen demand for office-like spaces explode.

The reality is that remote work is great for a small subset of personalities and job roles, good for a wider cross-section of personality types, industries, and job roles, and terrible for a much wider cross-section of personality types, life situations, industries, and job roles.

I work in a heavily decentralized organization, as part of a decentralized team spread across five countries. Before COVID struck, I worked on average two days a week from home and in previous years have done 2-week remote stints from other countries. The pivot to remote work during the crisis was not only not problematic, but completely convenient. But, even in a team familiar with remote work, the impact of prolonged remote work is palpable. There’s a reduced exposure to information, social bonding, creative pacing, and a degradation of space-associated mindspace and focus which comes with having a set environment to work in and immediate personal communication.

Certain things are better done in certain environments.  The key is a blend, and that blend is also highly individual and dependant on your team, on your personality, on your work ethic, and on the tasks you need to accomplish.

So, is the office dead and remote work the new norm? The answer is still a strong no— and the evidence spans across the ebb and flow in the debate surrounding remote work over the past 20 years. However, hopefully we see some organizations adopt a more lenient approach to remote work and an increase in receptiveness to hybrid remote/office approaches. Just as forcing employees to come in to the office and desk-warm strict hours backfires, attempting to force remote work would be equally disastrous to retention, worker satisfaction, and effectiveness.

Is distance learning the new norm?

The existing distance learning offerings are fucking terrible. Not only is this not the future of education, it’s symptomatic of a complete misunderstanding of what education is and should be. People regularly confuse the power and benefit of technologically empowered and self-directed, or even digitally guided, learning with robust distance learning as a whole. The fact that I can teach myself something through youtube videos, or that I’ll spend hours watching and listening to podcasts or edge.org videos is vastly different than a guided and well-tailored educational experience that is social, co-present, and provides proper spatial context.

All of the elements I discussed when talking about the future of remote work, also apply to distance learning. But, with distance learning it’s even more dramatic. The power and benefit of social immersion, socialization, and constant verbal and non-verbal feedback are every bit as important as basic coursework.  Similarly, the accidental exposure to information which takes place via in-person and facilitated learning experiences is profoundly valuable.

While some of these challenges will be mitigated in the next few years as facial tracking helps monitor understanding and attention, as virtual spaces create more relatable learning environments, etc., we’re still a long way away from that.  In the same way driving an actual car at speed is vastly different than sitting behind a PC screen with a keyboard and mouse, distance learning and in-person education are vastly different entities.

There is a place for distance learning, and it can be profoundly valuable for scaling knowledge sharing sessions or enhancing the quality of an educational environment when in-personal limitations are significant or prohibitive. But, make no mistake, it remains an inferior option and the majority of people advocating for the replacement of in-personal education are doing so for financial, not educational gain.

 Is global travel and the travel industry dead as we knew it?

The folks who were at war with the airline industry before COVID struck, have been quick to try and pivot that momentum into a narrative about the collapse of global travel and freedom of movement as we know it.  Other groups have pointed to the spread of the pandemic and similarly put forth arguments that we have to lock down global travel … or else. The reality is, the ease and pace at which these threats spread is of concern, and added mitigation, early detection, and rapid reaction tools need to be put in place. However, the plague is as old as humanity and commerce. Walls create far more problems than they solve, and we live in a world that has unstoppable momentum towards enhanced connectivity. It won’t matter if it’s hydrogen powered rockets, hyperloop tunnels, or maglev trains. But, the truth of it is, it’ll very likely continue to be all the existing tools we have with minimal changes or updates.

The big question in the short term, isn’t if there’s interest, desire, and willingness to resume global travel and for the travel industry to jump back. There is. It’s what the potential limitations, economic factors, and points of inconvenience will be.

Most of us cannot afford, and will not dedicate the time to visit places that maintain a 14-day quarantine on arrival and return. Outside of closed borders, I see this as one of the most prohibitive blockers. Things like rapid-testing, better monitoring, and added safety and security precautions during transit will mitigate the need for these quarantine periods.  However, it’s up in the air on if they last in most locations past the end of May / June or into August.

You’re already seeing countries showing interest in re-opening borders. While it may take decidedly longer for full freedom of movement to be restored, you’ll see it happen by end of year in all but a tiny subset of countries.  Some may accelerate that process with cooperative zones such as the Australia/New Zealander travel bubble currently being discussed (https://edition.cnn.com/travel/article/new-zealand-australia-travel-bubble-intl-hnk/index.html). Other natural ones would be include the Nordic countries, later expanded to the Eurozone in incremental steps.  This isn’t unlike steps China has taken to open up country-sized provinces internally. Still, even these bubbles will be, I suspect, quite short lived. Though it will be interesting to see if regions that have shown a strict adherence to coordinated mitigation efforts such as the Eurozone, are willing to open up to those that have not—such as the UK and US—any time soon. There are some grumblings out of the US that borders may not open to international flights in 2020. (https://www.ft.com/content/6717f2c1-d65f-45bd-88d6-654a09c746ad?fbclid=IwAR0kDEO0Z7GJ54eivcNvkIQNXFx7mcB4YuCaDScGBb7XoWz1zl5nB_FsfK0&fbclid=IwAR1qCQCP7_8S9Z7_bdGTA5QX6vVGnCWZGftXTdlT-gb5ayr8I3DGk3jua6M) While very unlikely, if the Trump team gives in to Stephen Miller and his block/tries to focus the Presidential campaign along xenophobic/nationalist lines—they may well focus on keeping borders closed to support the narrative. I suspect that given his tendency to focus on his own hospitality possessions and business pressures from others in his cabinet, that this won’t be the case and will instead be selective bluster leading up to an accelerated opening of the US shortly thereafter while using it to try and extort trade or other agreements.

Meanwhile, airlines have already started to hint at the path forward. While many early speculative posts winged on and on about how this would mean the death of budget air travel, how seats would have to be removed, or cabins completely re-designed, what we will see will likely be minimally different.

This brilliant video from Wizz Air illustrates the direction I think we’ll go, and what the flight process will look like by the end of June, or July at latest: https://youtu.be/2mVFOEaDrxI

I anticipate you also see initiatives similar to what Emirates Airline deployed early in the crisis where they offered rapid COVID testing before boarding. A few added precautions to distance people better on planes, enhanced hygiene, and a mild re-design of the average airport and things will largely return to normal. 

I’m only minimally more concerned about a flight with proper precautions taken, than I am the metro I ride daily to work, city transit buses, regional trains, or buses. Most of which have far higher usage/contact/and risk of contamination anyhow. Beyond that, once bars and restaurants re-open, the actual risk in comparison to a flight is negligible.

You also have a large subset of travelers that are generally cautious but not deterred by moderate to low viral threats. For example, somewhere around 290 million tourists visited Asian-Pacific countries last year, despite previous pandemics in the region, risk of malaria, dengue, etc. (https://reports.weforum.org/travel-and-tourism-competitiveness-report-2019/regional-profiles/asia/)

The bigger risk to airlines will be economic woes. Cheap fuel may help them, as might some bailouts, but many airlines had over-extended before the crises (dropping massive airline orders at $200-300M a pop was a bit careless to begin with). We’ll continue to see airlines fail, merge, and re-emerge, but I expect flying will continue in the pre-crisis direction of being air-based, long-distance buses.  My primary hope is that this crisis forces airlines to retire older and much less efficient aircraft, and perhaps pushes environmental investments that move air travel towards more environmentally-friendly builds and propulsion methods.

Past September/October—this is a supply/demand issue, and a question of what the recession does to people’s vacation $$$.  Not a COVID-19 issue.

As far as the opening of borders?  Some may lag behind. But again, markets like Greece, Italy, Thailand, Iceland and Spain whose economies are heavily driven by tourism will be open for business fairly quickly.

Some businesses like amusement parks and cruise ships may also suffer a brief hiccup and overall brand damage to non-boutique cruise ships is probably significant but, even they are likely to recover within 24 months. Hopefully, this will all help to clean the industry up which has appalling business practices, hygiene standards, and safety standards. As evidence of this, in the time I’ve taken to write this blog post, Carnival has come out and announced they’d resume operations in August with 8 ships immediately after the CDC’s no sail order expires (source: https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2020/may/04/carnival-cruise-line-coronavirus-resume-operations).

Are business trips a thing of the past?

Absolutely not. We will see a reduction in business travel, due to the recession/depression. But, again, that’s what we’d have seen with any economic slowdown. The value and business case for business travel and business trips remains extremely high.  Anyone saying otherwise, is effectively implying that chatting on tinder with a date is the same as a cozy night with some wine, dinner, and a movie in bed.

In the short term will non-essential travel be slow to recover?  Yes. Will that start to ease up within the next few months?  Somewhat. It will depend very heavily on barriers imposed such as quarantine, business needs, and budgets. I suspect in most cases business travel wont resume until the middle of Q3 when organizations have a better grasp on their YTD financial situation and start to ramp up and execute business that got pushed in Q1 and Q2.

You can do some things through Zoom, Teams, and remotely but … they have their limitations.

Are in-person restaurants and dining dead?

I can’t count the number of articles I’ve seen that say something like this excerpt from a recent FT piece,
“Many small restaurants and corner stores will never reopen because “cloud kitchens” or the 24-hour pharmacy will have taken their places. Gym operators may find that clients accustomed to exercising at home may not attend as frequently.” https://www.ft.com/content/bc7cbed2-8bae-11ea-a109-483c62d17528?fbclid=IwAR3hfWXJ2SZKPru-hS1Tm32so0FXo8BTj01eM7cW0Tt2rRXsfS0gHJxbt6Y

… and each time I read it I’m shocked because it’s … well … dumb. In this case, it’s slightly more sophisticated due to the mention of Cloud Kitchens. Which is apparently the next WeWork and essentially just a coworking space for takeout restaurants. So, the logic essentially goes that because a lot of restaurants have failed due to lockdowns, and that now we’ve trained millions of people how to use takeout services like Uber Eats, Just Eat, Wolt, etc., that small restaurants are doomed.

There are so many issues with this one, I’m not sure where to dive into it.  But, the preliminary one is the implication that we’re going to pivot exclusively to a takeout model which wipes out small restaurants and then presumably go to large chains for major meals. Living in Copenhagen, where there has been a recent explosion of delivery services and takeout is fairly mainstream, it’s easy to see how someone living in a major capital— particularly New York or a similarly sized/densely populated city with tech literate affluent folks—might get a bit confused. But, doing so forgets that take-out joints and delivery have been around forever. Also, looking at all the restraints this closure will wipe out and the % of unemployed folks who are out of work because of restaurant closures—it’s easy to jump to the conclusion that the whole industry is in long-term trouble. 

But, this completely glosses over the highly turbulent nature of the industry. Many restaurants close during low season, or cut back on staff. In a normal year, depending on what you read, around 20-60% of restaurants fail in the first year (with smaller restaurants failing more often), and the vast majority close before their 5^th birthday.  There’s a reason the very first two business you ran as a kid were a lemonade stand and a cookie stand. Restaurants are by their nature something that pops up quickly, fails quickly, and pops back up just as quick.

This crisis is wiping out a lot of mom and pop shops, it is also taking down some iconic ones—here in Copenhagen we’ve already lost two Michelin star restaurants with more to follow. But, they’ll also likely re-open shortly after things re-start with a new name and re-incorporated ownership.

Takeout services also require speed/convenience and population density to make sense. Uber Eats is in 327 North American cities. That’s not just the US, but Canada and Mexico as well.  In Denmark, Wolt, the Finnish company relies on swarms of bicycle delivery folks to make things work. Even when drones are prolific though, and rapid automatic delivery is more straight forward, don’t expect this to replace small restaurants. Just look to China and Vietnam etc. where the model for these services originated. You have just as many small cafes and street stands as ever.

This whole argument also completely misses the fact that delivered takeout, if it’s not pizza or Asian, tastes like shit. Soggy, over-cooked, inferior-tasting shit.  Anyone who orders and eats takeout vs. eating in, is prioritizing their desire not to cook and laziness over flavor. People go for delivered takeout when they’re lazy, or when they’re feeling self-conscious about eating a meal on their own.  Beyond that, the market that’s being cannibalized isn’t the small restaurant market, it’s the cook-for-yourself/go-shopping market.

All of which still misses the whole point that many visits to a restaurant are based heavily on the social aspect and flavor. Even if it’s only a take-out shop with 2 tables, I’ll still eat there, because the flavor will be better and the conversation with the owner or staff is sure to be engaging.

And one only needs to talk to a few restaurant owners, to get their opinion of delivery services. They HATE them. These services charge fees, on top of fees, and are terrible for the restaurant. On top of shelling out a ton of money for the delivery services and related fees, they also have to deal with diners rating their service and the flavor of their food based on takeout flavors and home dining.

The other element to this which gets me and where something has to change is the sheer amount of waste. The COVID lockdown here in Denmark was more open than many countries. As part of it, restaurants had to close unless they offered takeaway or delivery services. While this has been great for many restaurants and semi-homebound diners, the amount of plastic and unnecessary waste is pure insanity. We’ve gone from a society that was alarmed and having a national debate over plastic straws to fully embracing the most wasteful and disgraceful form of dining possible.

I would love to see the math on the impact, waste, and tradeoffs for a week’s worth of plastic-wrapped takeout meals, vs. in restaurant meals. I’m sure it’s tragic. The vendor providing our lunch at work currently delivers each person’s meal as 3 separate plastic trays of which 1 is semi-reusable. The whole thing is disgraceful. Once things recover a bit, I’m looking forward to a broader discussion about delivery and takeout waste.  In so many ways it reminds me of all the same mistakes made in the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s with TV dinners.

Will the workplace, restaurant, or transit vehicle of tomorrow look significantly different than today?

There has been justified speculation that we might see “Post Sept 11^th” levels of structural change to transit hubs, vehicles, and workplaces. While I think we’ll see some minimal modifications, I doubt we see any significant changes. I already spoke to examples of this with the travel section and Wizz Air video.  I do think you may see enhanced testing in some large facilities for a set period of time, similar to metal detectors after 9/11. This might also be thermal cameras.  However, in practice these will be minimal add-ons, not long-lasting changes.

In Denmark, suspended Plexiglas barriers went up quite quickly along with gameified markings on the ground for social nudging in markets, stores, etc. These were an elegant and simple solution that has been widely effective. I expect we’ll see small changes like this continue to be implemented.

I’m most curious if those barriers remain up, if they’re removed in a few months, or if they’re incorporated into shop designs moving forward. Outside of very specific use cases in high density offices such as call centers, I doubt we’ll see any significant changes pending regulations from health authorities that mandate set distances or air circulation requirements.

Any such changes seem somewhat moot though once bars and nightclubs are OK’d to re-open. It will be very interesting to see if there’s a consistency in logic and behavior between the different spaces, or there’s a cognitive dissonance and they end up being handled very differently.

What about the future of Zoom, Teams, etc.?

I anticipate that once things open back up, we’ll see usage levels at 20-30% above pre-COVID levels. I’ll be surprised if it’s much more than that. The value of these tools for facilitating communication remains largely the same as before the crisis.  Reductions in travel budgets and a small bump in remote work will increase their usage over a prolonged period in many offices but, I suspect you’ll see fewer workplaces incorporate them as a new staple technology than people expect. Many of the orgs that benefit from or use these technologies now, were already using them.  

However, the biggest impact of COVID will likely be building familiarity with and catapulting forward technological adoption of these technologies against laggards and pushing usage into social circles. While some small businesses may leverage Teams, Zoom, etc. in ways they didn’t previously, the wider adoption will likely be social. For most people, once in-person meetings are an option again, Zoom and related apps will start collecting dust, only to get pulled out for special occasions or long-distance socializing. Even this, has largely been possible already and widely ignored through existing platforms. It will be somewhat useful for certain types of events and distance-based communities but, will see minimal prolonged change in communities where copresence is possible.

Introverts vs. Extroverts in Lockdown

One of the other areas that is generally interesting to observe as part of the lockdown is the overall difference in navigating the lockdown between introverts and extroverts. It’s one of the only times I can think of where the world, which is widely dominated by extroverted processes and social constructs, has inverted to be dominated by introverted process and environments/protocol. To say it hasn’t been pretty or pleasant for the extroverts would be an understatement.

It’s a powerful empathy exercise and opportunity for the two groups to discuss strengths, feelings, observations, changes in productivity, expectations and mental narratives.  Unfortunately so far, that has been somewhat limited. As things normalize and re-open, it will be interesting to see if the experience drives added empathy both ways and sparks new understanding, or largely ends up being overlooked.

It would also be fascinating to do a study on the role each group plays in facilitating the spread of a virus. Or, if you wanted to strip the virus side away, ideas/thoughts and a variant of node theory for the dissemination of ideas.

Watching extroverts in my social circle, and their social behaviors, time scale, and the number of social interactions they have had vs. the introverts makes me suspect that you’d see very significant differences in infection and dissemination based on personality type and the corresponding social drive.

The accelerated adoption of technologies

One of the biggest upsides out of the COVID crisis and an area of potential disruption and acceleration during the recovery is likely to be the accelerated adoption of new technology. Earlier I spoke to the mass adoption of Zoom and related technologies. From folks learning how to order food through mobile delivery apps, to grandparents learning how to conference call, to digital health consultations, or digital banking—there is no question that the crisis has pushed forward the adoption of many different technologies and processes that would otherwise have been more gradual or delayed by years. This extends to all aspects of our day-to-day lives and the tools we are using for dating and sex, to video and music consumption, financial payments, even tiktok signups and demographics—you name it, if it’s connected to the web, it got a boost.

This will prove to play an interesting role in opening up new markets to brands, entirely new avenues for engaging with their existing audiences, and disrupt traditional business models. Earlier, I was a bit hard on the FT’s article and others for their take on restaurants. But, that’s not to say I don’t fully agree that there will be a series of wider impacts across the board. Some researchers have speculated that the acceleration of mobile payments in Asia was due to the region’s more extensive exposure to the Swine Flu and Bird Flu.

I’m very curious to see how this shifts the demographics of certain tools and technologies and what it does to the connected communities and market opportunities as a result.

Quality is secondary to authenticity and presence

During my active blogging and content creation days, I set out to understand youtube and the type of  content that engaged audiences. The takeaway I settled on was it needed to be content that was either informative, or invoked a visceral reaction—fear, disgust, arousal, etc.—and that was superior to polish or perfect production.

While the ideal combination is a mixture of all of the above, one of the very interesting things to come out of the whole COVID period is the pivot by TV/Media/others to the creation of “at home” content.  These, despite the polish, have been widely successful—even more so than if they had created “at home studios” with superior quality (which would have been possible if not easy and practical).  It’s a very interesting insight and look at narratives, timing, authenticity, and the interplay between quality content and contextual relevance vs. polish even while production levels and digital quality reaches new heights.

This becomes a powerful reminder for everyone from brands to storytellers and I believe there’s a lot to unpack. It will also be interesting to see if it opens up more opportunity for other types of content producers in the short and mid-term, or actually floods the more aspiring professional and hobbyist channels in a way that has the opposite effect.

Economic and market impact

The collapse of oil won’t be a big win for green energy…but investment might

A rather fascinating fumble by the oil markets is continuing to play out. At some level I would hope it was jumped on as an opportunity to wean the US off part of its oil addiction while nurturing a systemic shift and re-allocation of resources to accelerate the transition away from the worst types of oil production and usage. Unfortunately, there’s no indication that it will go that way.

Since the US opened up oil exports in 2015 the various pipeline disasters and attempts to open national wildlife refuges and related priceless treasures have been as frustrating as they are shortsighted. Even worse, I still worry about the incredible adverse impact of fracking and the plethora of disasters it’s accelerating from water contamination to plate motions (and if I REALLY get my conspiracy theory hat on—a fear that it’ll set off the Yosemite Supervolcano). All that aside, the current administration has shown it’s far more likely to double down on, protect, and further entrench oil interests, from its attack on the EPA, protections put in place after the deepwater horizon, and the opening of highly sensitive American national resources to exploration and private interests.

Sadly, the outcome of the geo-political fight over oil prices, production war, spats between the Saudis, US, Russia, and others will do little more than inconvenience American oil interests while undercutting alternative fuel sources and related initiatives. Cheap oil and gas isn’t going anywhere, and it’ll take some time to balance out the surplus. There’s a brilliant writeup on the geo-politics taking place behind the scenes here: https://www.bloomberg.com/opinion/articles/2020-04-29/covid-19-oil-collapse-is-geopolitical-reset-in-disguise?sref=RVYQDGpl and for anyone who wants additional background context, diving into how oil supply and related price wars are being used to apply pressure on various petrol-states is fascinating.  Dimensions like the Iran-Russia-Saudi spat is as fascinating as it is complex. Also, how the low price of oil and various other geo-political posturing may set off or magnify existing humanitarian crises around the globe.

Still, I do hope that whatever additional funding package comes down the line, it will also include carveouts for green energy and related infrastructure spending.  Prolonged depressed prices might also have some benefits in encouraging the shut down and discontinuation, or at least delay, additional field exploration and more expensive extraction methods. If this led to the decommissioning of some deep water rigs, and things like oil sands etc. and in its place support of those orgs investing in alternative energy sources—I’d consider it a major win.

The market still makes no sense

I started this reflection musing on how stimulus and rapid reactions to the crisis might help accelerate our recovery out of the recession. Having said that, I also still feel like the market is grossly over-valued. My suspicion is that traders are looking at the general trend of the market over the course of the bull run since 2008 and drawing a line similar to the red line I’ve added to the snapshot of the Dow Jones below. The underlying assumption being that this is roughly where we should/would be without the 1.5 trillion dollar tax cut/corporate handout Trump used to keep the markets high in 2017 if no recession were taking place.

The problem with this is, that all of the other indicators in the lead-up to the COVID crisis showed we were entering a recession. This included the behavior of gold, which normally spikes during a crash where it’s used as a safe-haven, and then crashes as the recovery begins. While gold has spiked to $1,700 and is near all-time highs, it doesn’t look like the emergency re-location that normally accompanies a full crash has taken place yet. This fits a bit better with the look of the UK’s FTSE 100 which is down, has recovered slightly, and yet still hasn’t gone below 5,000. When I look at historical examples, a deep recession/depression normally results in roughly a 40-50% loss of market value at bottom. This would mean another 500-1000 points from the FTSE’s lowest point and another 2,600 below the Dow Jones lowest point at the very least, and a full 7,500 points below where it currently is.

A look at unemployment data is quite dire: 21+ million Americans in a couple of weeks out of work, and a 16% unemployment rate (potentially up to 20% once final figures come in). That’s destined to fall as lockdown ends and folks return to work and businesses re-open, but is still likely to leave a doubling or even tripling of the pre-lockdown unemployment rate. It also doesn’t take into account all the folks furloughed but retained, or wide-reaching numbers of corporate employees who have taken double digit, multi-month, or year-long wage reductions.

This is where the rapid bailouts hopefully have helped mitigate some of this shock and not only protected quite a few jobs/businesses, but will cue up a more rapid recovery.

Still, even if that’s the case, the market’s focus seems to be purely on immediate cause/effect of the COVID shock and lockdown without any wider look at the trajectory many businesses were on before the crisis. This includes high profile missteps and a fragmenting confidence in a number of the major VCs and the valuations which were floating around, oil prices, etc.

At the same time, the US also benefits from being the best worst option, among various options out there. The self-inflicted injuries resulting from Brexit have reduced the attractiveness of the UK. The Chinese markets are untrustworthy. Russian markets are similarly problematic. While Japan and Germany have their own potential challenges.

It seems to me there are three potential scenarios from here:

Scenario 1: There was and is no recession

Despite the lethargic figures coming in before COVID struck, and the world blowing past the 10-year window since the last major recession (historical cyclical trends aside), sufficient steam was let out of the economy by Brexit, Trump’s trade war with China, concerns over Trump’s election, and the small silent recession in 2014 to break the trend.  In line with this, there was some economic slow-down, but rather a minimal deceleration vs. reversal or economic breaking.  In which case, the adjustment and infusion of support that resulted from the COVID crisis should serve to support the building of additional economic momentum and a return to a bull market.

Scenario 2: The crash hit and we’re accelerating out of it

In this case, the 30+% drop that took place was the adjustment, which happened earlier than it otherwise would have and was cloaked/offset by COVID and the various global aid packages and support. The rapid bounce back, will now be followed by a tepid period of initial recovery which will then accelerate in 6-12 months time as the full impact of the COVID crises processes out of the global economy.  Specific markets will experience a particularly delayed recovery due to their emphasis on impacted sectors such as tourism but most global economies will largely recover.

Scenario 3: The crash is still coming and is currently obscured by the COVID crisis and response

This, which I find the most likely, would follow a double-tap, two-layered market crash with the first and more shallow of the two being the Q1 market crash. That would place us in a small lull and false recovery, which will tip over into the second, deeper, adjustment in the coming 30-90 days. This would be less clear cut and the small lull extended due to confusion over how much is COVID induced, how much is the previously anticipated economic adjustment, and how much is the result of the two interacting. Here, again, the bailouts and stimulus should help mitigate some of the worst effects and serve to jump start things more rapidly while providing the economy a chance to catch its breath and start to recover. What’s missing is the hard investment in infrastructure investment, education and a re-tooling of the economy which isn’t currently included in the COVID rescue packages.

And what of inflation?

I really have no idea. While many argue “inflation is dead”, that seems highly improbable and with many of the actions in play currently, inflation seems like it is increasingly a very, very, real risk within a few years. I see this as further motivating folks to dive back into real estate, gold, or the stock market or other options that tend to float with inflation.

Other thoughts and hopes?

Will this finally be the end of neoliberalism (read here: https://www.theguardian.com/books/2016/apr/15/neoliberalism-ideology-problem-george-monbiot) and its 50-year ransacking of the American dream?  I sure hope so. But, I also had hoped it was on its death bed with the collapse of the neo-conservative movement in 2006-07 but what arose was an even more predatory and detrimental version.

As an American living in Denmark, I’m also profoundly hopeful that this leads to a course correction that repairs the American medical system and pivots to a more cost-effective and beneficial model. If there was ever a time, and economic incentive to execute the pivot, this is it.  Unfortunately, the current administration has moved in the opposite direction and even with a change in leadership come November, I doubt we’d see an overhaul of the healthcare system executed within the first 2 years.

I also worry that one tradeoff of our adaptability is that despite all of the pain inflicted and the loss of life, that we will not take steps to prevent future outbreaks. While I disagree that the path to doing that is closed borders or limitations on freedom of movement, I do believe that well-resourced and politically independent bodies and global cooperation are essential. Executed alongside local, regional, and governmental steps that prepare for and facilitate early detection and mitigation. With 9 billion people in the world, there are more opportunities than ever for things to go wrong. We must use innovation and think our way out of these problems; tap into the true potential of highly innovative technologies while remembering that the strongest among us are only as safe as the most vulnerable.

Final thoughts – am I hopeful?

I am. History tells me that this too shall pass, and what is to come will be better than what has been before. I’m heartbroken, but hopeful. We will travel again. We will return to something that feels and looks similar to our old normal. But, there will continue to be an unbearable toll on tens, if not hundreds of thousands of people. Of those, the spread of conspiracy theories, or political posturing, will cost us tens of thousands of lives unnecessarily. Many of those will be in the US and that saddens me deeply. Many others will be at risk in already at-risk communities and locations such as refugee camps.  So, to close this post out, I’d also like to encourage you all to take some time and join me in donating to a cause working to help those in desperate need of help through organizations such as MSF: https://www.msf.org/donate. 

I’d also be remiss if I didn’t explicitly state that it is more important than ever that we follow scientifically driven guidelines and take the mitigation steps required. When I speak to timelines and a relative return to normal, I’m speaking in a context that is based heavily in following mitigation best practices, follows scientific and medical guidance from the experts, and does not seek to rush things.  Just as discontinuing your antibiotics on day 4 of 10 because “you feel a bit better” is terrible and socially irresponsible practice. The pre-mature, rushed, incomplete and inconsistent approach currently being put forward by quacks, conspiracy theorists, snake oil salesmen, false patriots and corrupt leaders is the single biggest threat out there to an accelerated, safe, and economically sound recovery.  

This means following lockdown procedures. It means keeping things closed as long as they need to be, not as long as some vocal scientifically illiterate group of sock puppets that excessively consumed B.S. on youtube latch onto to justify their own petty preferences.  It also means making the difficult decision to keep some borders closed longer than others, in instances where Governments or regional leaders show a lack of scientific literacy or sufficient moral spine to do so. It means that we all have a responsibility to call to question, and invoke a social cost for the type of performance theater tomfoolery which rewards lazy self gratification under the guise of being a “critical thinker”.  This includes the sea of nonsense surrounding 5G, attacks on the Gates Foundation, Dr. Fauci, the WHO, vaccination initiatives in general, B.S. virus origin myths, and other related attacks or nonsensical rubbish seeking to undermine health issues.   

** All opinions, analysis, and commentary in this post are my own and in no way reflect the views or policies of my employer, nor should they be taken as medical or financial advice.**  

As long-time readers know, every year I write a birthday post that contains general reflections, musings, and observations drawn from the previous year.

I hope you’ll enjoy these thoughts and take them for what they are –  an attempt to share the world as I see it and how I relate to it. You can view my 34th birthday post here, 33rd birthday post here, 32nd birthday post here, 31st birthday post here, my more detailed 30th birthday post here, my musings on turning 29 here, or 28 here. As well as a long-forgotten blog post written on my 23rd birthday (wow, have I really been blogging that long?) which you can view here.

Individualism as a Lens

One of the most exciting discoveries this year came from re-visiting and doing a dedicated coaching session based on the results of my Clifton Strengths personality test, and more specifically a closer look at my dominant strength. Previously, I’ve written about how I’ve gone from being extremely dismissive of the value of these personality tests, to lukewarm, to a strong proponent.

My earlier dismissal of them stemmed from seeing them misused actively during the majority of my job searches where I took the test, which was largely ignored through the interview process, and then taken as something fixed and definitive. My ideas began to evolve when I had an interview with a fantastic hiring manager 6 years ago at the Danish Technical University, where the results were actually used to guide the interview; to review personality traits, points of interest, and areas of agreement and disagreement. Now, with my latest coached sit down and review of the results, I’ve become a strong fan and advocate. When used correctly, the test can provide an illustrative tool for facilitating communication.

I find each test format is also different and provides a mixture of different insights. From food for thought and introspection into how I relate with the world, a look at alternative world views, and then as a lens for making communication more effective.

While the Clifton Strengths tool has been the one I found most interesting, for context I’ve also scored as a ENTP-A (Assertive Debater) via the free 16 Traits survey, a strong-red “Director” with balanced tendencies in the R/G/B/Y Insights Discovery color wheel tool, and as an Enneagram 7 (active pivot to 1, rest pivot to 5).

What made the Clifton Strengths report particularly interesting for me, was that when I first took the test two years ago it seemed to largely have landed with mixed results and accuracy. I had high-level descriptions of what the 34 traits meant, but little additional context or descriptive text. Two years later, as part of the guided session, I also got access to my full report which included strikingly accurate behavior and trait descriptions and helped flesh out the actual meaning behind some of those traits. This is where the Individualism trait comes into things.

I found it odd that the traits of Woo, Empathy, Strategic, Empathy, Inclusion and Futuristic all scored extremely low. At first it generated significant skepticism and similarly surprised and shocked friends I shared the results with. Woo, Strategic and Empathy, in particular, are extremely odd weak traits for a person working in marketing, with my profile, and a foundational belief that the core of human ethics can be traced to empathy.

The answer, however, sits in the Individualism trait. And this is why I’m leading this year’s post with this reflection. For years a common thread through these posts has been the struggle with misalignment between different world views, orientations, and reflections. Practical Curiosity is effectively an explorative and reflective text designed to help bridge different ways of thinking, world views, and to help provide added context and insight. But, even with those illustrative processes, the core piece missing was a Rosetta Stone of sorts for translating between different ways of thinking and processing.

What the 34 traits ranking picked up on and flagged was that my dominant lens (by a significant margin) is the “Individualism” trait. Which is not to say being selfishly individualistic. Rather, that I view the world and myself through an extremely aggressive individualized lens. Each person, situation, and interaction I engage with is something I view by default as individual to that person and experience. I then feed that information back into my own mental model and digest it through contrasts, overlap, and alignment. This often leads to confusion for people, who misinterpret my interest in better understanding the individualized nature of a situation and incorporating that as inwardly or externally critical vs. just digesting the information and how it fits together.

This is where and why the traits like Woo and Empathy landing at the bottom end of my trait profile actually end up making perfect sense. What the test is picking up on, is different origination points and mental models/world views and ways of thinking and processing. My empathy is fed and potent because I manifest it through a strong desire to understand the individual needs, way of thinking, situation, world view, and processes that drive a person. But that is processed and enabled through a highly tailored interest in understanding who they are, how they feel, and why. That’s in stark – nearly a polar opposite even – to someone who had a similarly strong tendency but through an emotional empathic lens. These individuals feel their empathy as an intuitive emotional response and may or may not need to/be interested in/or find their way deeper into the individual’s individualistic situational profile. One leads from the mind and the other through the heart.

Woo is also similar. I’m an effective and at times persuasive storyteller because I can rapidly and relatively easily digest a wide range of different potential interpretations. I can deep dive and refine that understanding, and I enjoy the debate and critical exchange side of things because it helps me better understand how others relate to/perceive/think and engage with a topic and contrast that against my own perceptions, behaviors, and where I want to evolve as an individual. In this way I woo through my individualized worldview and way of thinking. This contrasts heavily from intuitive woo-ers. Individuals that organically and impulsively relate to and story/bond through dynamic storytelling. It’s fun to compare and contrast these and how they might express in different personalities. Obama? I would imagine he would be closer to my path to persuasion/woo, as are many journalists. But, Clinton and Trump, or great propagandists or networkers? Maybe even Steve Jobs? All likely very high on the woo scale.

This is the beauty of using these tools as a translation tool between perspectives. Not only did it help me further clarify and cement the internal lens I view and process/relate to the world through, it also provided a structured and pre-defined tool for mapping that to people with other, different strengths. Particularly when engaging with and exploring topics with friends, colleagues, and partners who may have individualism as one of their softer traits.

And what of the other top 10 traits? They’re interesting, and great for introspection into how I approach, shape, and nurture the first trait. But with the first being such a foundational – firmware if you will – piece of how I relate to the world, they’re more ancillary shading for introspection than formative insights.

The Three Spheres of Focus

I’ve long focused on navigating the balance between work/life balance and relationships. It’s part of what kept me in Denmark, part of why I chose not to pursue travel writing as a full-time career and has shaped my career development in recent years. However, with 35 racing toward me, this past year was slightly more reflective than most. How should I prioritize my time and energy? Where should I invest my primary effort? How much space was I willing to make for people? What was I looking for and why?

At the same time, I’ve also been acutely aware over the past four years of a very intentional struggle to preserve that work-life balance, time, and emotional/creative energy for my projects. There’s a ton on the topic in last year’s birthday post.

This year though, I had a few great epiphanies that came out of conversations and reflections. One of the big ones was with my friend Katarina who nudged me away from thinking of work/life and relationships as a singular balance with the majority of the focus on work/life balance. Out of it, I’ve started to think and explain where I am and how I evaluate and map my needs and priorities using a finite amount of energy split between three parallel pools of energy. A fairly standard split for a 20-30 something career professional in a high-intensity industry looks something like:

The cultural norm and lifestyle we’re nudged toward is one that invests the majority of our intellectual, emotional, and physical energy in work and our career. From high-intensity workdays, to working longer hours, weekends, evenings, and spending time out of office thinking about in-office considerations, this is the archetypical structure most of us are pushed towards. The majority of our remaining time is invested in our families and relationships. That’s dating, partner time, combined social events and general relationship maintenance. What’s left is a very small amount of time and energy for creative and personal projects – hobbies, crafts, personal development, and in most cases that’s consumed almost entirely by working out/fitness.

The above reflects where I want to be (not where I am) at this point in my life. The reality of my current situation probably reverses the size of Create and Work but largely leaves Love around this size. And that’s where the insight from Katarina was invaluable. I’ve historically treated Relationships / Love and the search for a Partner as an exterior/different consideration that was almost viewed as coming from a different pool of finite energy/time. But, what this exercise made abundantly clear was that the same processes and steps I take to protect and preserve my “Create” focus to shut out, cannibalize, and at the very least reduce my focus and available time and energy for “Love”.

These are constantly evolving and 35 is a great time for me to check in and evaluate how happy I am with the balance. Is finding a long-term partner starting to become increasingly important and something I anticipate incrementally growing in size in the coming 5-8 years? Yes. But, am I still comfortable and interested in prioritizing the majority of that invested energy and balance between Create and Work? Absolutely. Similarly, does it make sense to continue to attempt to aggressively defend the Create energy from the Work energy? Absolutely, particularly because in my case I use the Creative outlet to supercharge my ability to perform at Work and as a bolster that keeps me balanced and from excessively defining self-worth, reward, and achievement by day-to-day work trends and feedback.

To support this balance, I’ve made a few strategic changes in H2 2019 and 2020 so far. First, I actively passed on what would have been a strategic promotion, but one that would have required added time and significant emotional/energy investment in areas that would have heavily eaten into my Create pool of energy. This was a continuation of many principles and reflections outlined in last year’s post. That said, it also meant I had to overcome my innate wiring to step into the opportunity as it was made available. It also required months of introspection and internal dialogue with myself to navigate my ego, master it, and subdue it.

At the same time, I’m also working to pivot and re-claim some of that Creative energy and space. While I felt major gains with my photography over the last year, many other projects and creative endeavors – startup side project ideas, my marketing book, etc. have only made the tiniest of advancements. 2020 is poised to be a year where I re-energize and prioritize Creation and hopefully leverage that renewed energy and bandwidth to tie off several of those projects.

Meanwhile, I’ll continue to work to balance that with an added eye towards creating space for the relational side of the search. It’s a subtle additional layer of thinking and awareness, but being more conscious of how I prioritize time, energy

Stress, Depression, and an Updated Working Theory

Increasingly, I see friends going down with work-related stress. Powerful, resilient, passionate, and talented people. But, people who have ended up in situations that are overwhelmingly stacked against them, or which overwhelm their tools for navigating the situation. When I consider the impact my year and a half job search six and a half years ago had on my health, psyche, and energy level, I can still feel goosebumps and a small tightness of breath. I am now profoundly grateful for that experience as it has opened up an expanded frame of reference, empathy, and insight. It also factors heavily in my choices to prioritize life balance, seek to chart a healthy and productive path, and to nurture my full potential.

In last year’s post I wrote a section titled “Moderate Depressive Triggers”. This year I want to update that with a new insight I’m only just starting to explore and work through. It’s a confluence of different ideas, layered across and explored through each other. So forgive the slightly confusing and complex introduction.

Previously, I’ve referenced the epiphany of this moment:

It’s the moment a herd of Impala spotted a stalking Lion. All eyes and years locked on. Their bodies pivoted instantly to fight or flight. Their breathing tightened, their eyes widened, their focus became laser sharp, they emptied their bowels, and the prepared for a burst of speed at almost any cost.

I often reference back to this moment, and the related physiological reaction for a variety of reasons – I use it as a tool to understand everything from fear of stage performances and physiological reactions, to difficulty sleeping, and now – as a potential exploration of the engine that magnifies depression. I also use it as a lens for exploring the effects of prolonged work or life stress … of anxieties, fears, and similar concerns.

I also view the human body as a highly complex piece of machinery that consists of an evolved complexity. Layers and layers of interdependent simple things, that bring what seem to be an almost unimaginable level of complexity. A prime example of this is our ability to swap out pieces – a heart, a kidney, a lung. The brain is its own unique aspect, infinitely more complex and nuanced. But, at the same time, I strongly believe that many things can be explained by carefully working back and identifying the underlying causes.

In a recent conversation with a friend who has faced an extended period of stress, work burnout, and related health issues, an offhanded comment completely inverted the way I think about depression and its relationship to stress. In our conversation, the friend mentioned in passing that their psychologist had expanded their work together to include a test for OCD. My immediate impulse was one of surprise and an inclination to view it as something separate. What does stress have to do with OCD or depression? And similarly, are the three related, are some symptomatic of the others, and how do they interact with each other?

As a culture, I generally think we know there is a strong relationship between stress, perfectionistic traits/extended self-control, and depression. But, I also think we tend to think of the two as separate entities, or if anything, that depression is caused by a chemical/biological imbalance, which then creates or amplifies stress. What if that’s backward? How does focus play into it?

What if a major factor in shaping and triggering the cyclical nature of stress and depression can actually be traced back to those impalas? What if the very traits that make many high performers exceptional – an ability to focus, and baseline traits that mirror what eventually becomes OCD in its most extreme form – come together to shape a mechanical process with far-reaching psychological and health impacts.

We already know that the fight or flight response (quick catch up here) has a deleterious impact on health when it is prolonged. Part of that process is the flooding of the body with the stress hormone, cortisol. Which in turn triggers secondary issues with dopamine. And the interplay between these two, and a correlation with things like depression and chronic stress are floating around in some of the literature (eg this writeup). But, I think there’s an even more powerful way to think about the relationship taking place here and its impact.

My theory is that for a variety of reasons there are individuals that have a far easier time entering and exiting fight or flight states. These individuals are able to dip in, benefit from the biological response, and then dip out without any cumulative negative impact. These individuals may dip in more/less than others, but rarely spend any prolonged period of time in a given fight or flight state. At the same time, you have individuals that dip into fight or flight in a far more pronounced, or prolonged fashion. When they do this, they end up building up unhealthy levels of some hormones, while depleting others.

Think about it a bit like two vehicles. They reach a mountain pass and then have to cross it. One is a sport car designed for speed, that is light weight, and able to navigate the extended 7% incline without issue. Their RPMs stay relatively low, they can even pass traffic on the way up, their engine temperature is normal, and while they burn a little more gas they’ll largely remain close to their baseline.

The other vehicle is heavy, pulling extra weight – think of a semi truck, or a pickup truck pulling a trailer, and has to operate with greater care. The second vehicle will burn gas at a much higher rate, have to run the hill in a much lower gear, and still faces an increased risk of overheating and potential breakdown or cumulative wear and tear. Things like rest stops may help, increased ventilation also keeps the temperature down a little, but a heavy load and weight make for a challenging journey.

So what happens? That second vehicle burns through its fuel faster, all the motion-giving energy it needs to keep going forward. At the same time, it builds heat, which reduces efficiency and can eventually cause a breakdown. And if everything goes wrong? You find yourself halfway up a hill, with an empty tank of gas, and a broken down vehicle that just overheated.

As humans, I suspect we’re not that different. That certain types of thinkers – those that slip into the heightened state that resembles (but may not directly map) fight or flight, end up being that second vehicle. That depression, rather than being a cause, is just a symptom that results from a depleted gas tank and overheated engine.

Which is where the OCD element becomes particularly curious for me. Here, I don’t mean actual clinical OCD. I’m actually much more interested in the underlying dimension of focus and its relationship to processing and re-processing. When I reflect on the friends who struggle most with depression, stress and navigating it and also turns lens inward, I see individuals who process and re-process material and potentialities. In Practical Curiosity, I included a chapter, “Thinking Ahead or Jumping In” where I explore how different individuals operate in more or less immediate fashions. My suspicion is, that for a cross-section of the population, highly controlled focus paired with considering a wide range of potential outcomes triggers a similar physiological reaction to fight or flight.

To illustrate, consider two individuals facing the same situation. The first is more immediate, similarly talented, but processes stress differently. They see the situation, impulsively settle on their path forward, and then take the action. The moment of decision making, and perhaps a moment of reflection after, trigger some anxiety or heightened focus/attention, but that is relatively limited.

While the second individual arrives at the situation and identifies that there are roughly 20 potential choices and outcomes. Of these, one is clearly the obvious one, and has a high probability of being the correct choice. But, the second individual dips into a focused/attentive state with fight or flight tendencies while re-considering, processing, and working through each of those other 19 options. Beyond that, they further stay in that stressed state, considering the potentiality of a 21st option which they don’t know about, yet, but they know it could exist, and change the right choice. Eventually, they make the decision. Then continue to second guess if that 20th option was really the best choice. They have this on-going internal dialog…did I make the right choice…was there any sign of a 21st choice…I better re-check all 19 of the alternative choices to be sure… Exhausting, right? Now consider how the impact of this could reflect that ability to dip in/out of that heightened fight or flight state and how fast a person burns gas/overheats.

The last dimension that came into play, was a lucky happenstance of timing. Shortly after having the preliminary conversation and starting to think through the above, I was reminded of how different people’s individual inner monologues are. Perhaps you saw the posts floating around socials, but essentially it boils down to two different groups. There’s a cross-section of the population that has a running narrative similar to a voice-over in a movie that runs in their head when they’re in conversation. (No surprise I fall into this category). And then, there’s another cross-section of the population that purely experiences things and thoughts without that monolog (links here and here). From casual conversations, it seems that you also have a spectrum from silent to overactive chatter; that it’s not an either/or situation in most cases.

What I’d love to further explore in the year to come, is how this inner monologue further factors into shaping and nurturing those more obsessive tendencies and inclinations to get lost in potentialities (21 potential choices example above). Essentially, how that internal voice might be responsible for making it more difficult to dip in and out of fight or flight and to recharge.

Ultimately, my hope is that in changing my understanding of cause/effect it’s possible to start to explore ways to navigate the situational, behavioral, or mental models that trigger burnout, exhaustion, and depression. Both to work re-actively to help counter those cycles when they happen. But also to pro-actively break or start to modify the core triggers.

The Four Day Rule

One of the best additions to my regular regime this year was a more consistent application of what I call my four day rule. It’s an essential tool I use to protect my free time, to preserve balance, and to maintain the ability to be reactive. It’s also a tool I use to keep windows in my schedule where I can book trips, avoid having to cancel on people, and maintain a balance between respecting people’s time and energy and my own needs.

But, I’ll also be the first to admit, it’s also an extremely annoying and somewhat vexing “rule” for many people.

What’s the rule? In brief, it boils down to a simple approach to making plans and commitments. At any given point in time, I will not make any plans more than four days out that are not 1) absolutely unavoidable – such as a dentist’s appointment, a work commitment, or a dear friend’s wedding; 2) I adhere to this rule consistently being careful not to only use it in cases where I’m unsure about my energy or desire to attend a given event; 3) I defer concrete commitments until inside the four-day window allowing me to avoid making commitments I can’t or shouldn’t keep; 4) I am very careful to make sure I don’t waste other people’s time and I put a high priority on keeping all commitments I do make.

Why is it needed?

A variety of reasons. In Denmark, there’s a general culture of booking things far in advance. As in, it’s not uncommon to find people only able to commit to and make plans 3+ months out. Which, while understandable in some cases, I find absolutely absurd in others. So much for spontaneity. But, if you’re not careful, you rapidly find people are more than happy – through good intentions – to fill your calendar up for you, locking you into a sea of back-to-back commitments. That’s great for some people, and particularly useful for extroverts.

I hate it, and worse than that, it’s actively detrimental for me and many introverts. I work best when I’m able to take constant stock of my energy levels, what I’m feeling socially up for, and how my work balance is at any given point in time. While I manage this from day-to-day, I also usually have a fairly good feel for where I’m at, at any given point, relative to the three previous days. Big social event? I’ll probably need a recharge day or two. Super quiet couple days? Bring on a social night out of dancing and the bars.

The reality is, a great event at the wrong time can be draining and add weight vs. energy. I feel mistimed events or social commitments a bit like sand in your boots. It’s not the type of thing that stops you in your tracks, but the more you accumulate, the slower you go, the wearier you are, and the harder it is to bring your full energy to bear.

Why 4 days? In addition to the ability to predict time and energy, I’ve settled on 4 days because it tends to protect weekends and be sufficiently disruptive by falling outside standard 5 and 7 day week cycles. It allows sufficient advanced notice to be able to add structure when needed and to be flexible around other people’s existing commitments. But, it preserves things like weekends or the start of the week depending on when plans come up. With many events of various types also tending to chunk towards certain days – eg Thursday – it helps navigate around that.

Given I want to bring my full, unbridled, and engaged energy to every social commitment, while also being able to book my own travels, organize my own agenda, and navigate my projects – the four day rule is perfect.

As an added bonus, because I’m largely consistent with it. People appreciate it and understand it in most cases. A few have even started using it to positive effect themselves, which is great!

Georgia, China, Oman, and Reflecting on Travel

It wouldn’t be an annual birthday post if I didn’t talk a bit about this year’s lovely surprises and silly travel misconceptions. Right?

But, first things first – I’m excited to say that if 2018 started to re-invigorate my travel energy the last half of 2019 revved the engine and got things flowing again. In late 2018 and early 2019 I was struggling a bit to find places I was super excited about. At least – those that were accessible and (importantly) comfortable.

Over the past couple of years I’ve consistently sought out and photographed a large number of the world’s most accessible iconic sights. I also enjoy the challenge of seeking out and finding spectacular new destinations that are under-explored or, at the very least, unfamiliar to my home communities (eg; Mt. Huangshan in China which gets millions of predominantly Asian tourists each year, but relatively few westerners).

This left me struggling a bit on where to go next, what to get super excited about, and anxious about the options that were available. Many of the remaining destinations I came across either scared me/needed a travel companion, were financially draining, or didn’t excite me.

The ones that didn’t excite me: I’m not a huge fan of sitting on a beach for an extended period of time. If I can’t be active, and don’t have company of some sort, many of the tropical destinations remain relatively low on my to-visit list. I know I’ll probably love them once I get there, but as previous trips to parts of Belize and Zanzibar have revealed – a traditional resort destination isn’t where I’m focused at the moment. I’m also still very much interested in pushing my comfort zone and finding fresh and alien natural formations, landscapes, or experiences which makes the now more familiar locations somewhat less exciting (e.g. a trip back to Ireland or Spain). Of course, this always changes from year to year/phase to phase and I fully expect my focus here will be re-invigorated sometime soon. Other destinations are exciting but somewhat over visited/saturated giving them a Disneyland/artificial feel which often includes excessive crowds and stabilization.

Exciting but financially prohibitive: I would absolutely love to get back to Tanzania and to do another Serengeti safari. Similarly, Alaska and Kodiak Island with the bears are high on my list. Getting back out with polar bears and potentially a visit to Greenland to photograph and explore the glaciers are also dream trips. I’m also dreaming of exploring some of the destinations inside Russia at some point. And of course, the ultimate dream is an Antarctica/South Georgia extended photography trip.

I pinch myself every day, and am profoundly grateful that I’m able to even consider many of these as within the universe of possibility – let alone that some are a stretch investment and potentially financially possible. For some of the others? It’s good to have things to aspire towards over the next 60 years, right? I have no doubt, time and health permitting – I’ll find a way.

With the market crashing, the world in lockdown currently, job insecurity a consideration and things likely to change in the coming 36 months – I have no idea how my situation may change and what that will do to the threshold for some of these. But, health and career willing – there’s time and its more a question of when and how to make it a reality – not if it’ll be possible.

Scary, unsafe or in need of company: With 50+ countries, 5 continents, and years of cumulative time on the road under my belt it shocks people to learn just how scared/cautious I am of certain destinations. Perhaps in light of the explanation above about how I think and process situations and my inner voice/approach to exploring the world, that makes more sense. But, either way, it’s always a struggle where I’m constantly pushing myself to dispel misconceptions, overcome fears, and carefully explore new opportunities.

When I took stock of different destinations for exploration in late 2018 and the first half of 2019, I was faced by the prospect of new cultures, or regions that I knew virtually nothing about, and a long laundry list of fears ranging from the benign – such as ease of transport, quality of bathroom facilities (as you know I have a phobia of long bus rides and squat toilets), and language barriers. To the more grounded – solo travels in mountains as a high-risk activity in case of injury, general country safety/exposure to crime (eg LatAm/India – here’s looking at you), and hassle/security. An example of how this translates into very tangible concerns comes from my trip to Oman where I had to focus on sticking to paved roads to avoid any risk of my vehicle getting stuck in the sand. Without a second person, the logistics and safety considerations were quite simply…different and there were places I couldn’t go, and things I could not safely do as a result.

My brother David, and our #brothersberger trips have served as a wonderful opportunity to break through some of these fears. Together, we explored China, remote parts of Iceland, and wandered into Colorado’s Sand Dunes. We have a long history of incredible travels together and have a few in the pipeline down the road. But, this year, between work obligations and relational ones, his other commitments meant that work schedules didn’t align. Meanwhile, March of last year brought an incredible and eventful visit to Lofoten with a good friend and fellow photographer which energized my willingness to, at least selectively, start expanding who I travel with.

Still, it remains a massive challenge to navigate when to abandon the solo trip and how to do that in a fashion that is rewarding/fulfilling for everyone joining. How to pick destinations. When and where to push through fears/concerns and what the general outcome ends up being. Which is why three big trips towards the end of 2019 were incredible experiences and reminders.

It started with Georgia. After struggling to decide where to go in early October, high off of the incredible photography and travel in the Colorado Rockies and Sand Dunes with my family in June/July, I was really having a hard time booking. I wanted to photograph more sand dunes but the region of western China I was looking at didn’t make sense for ethical and logistical reasons. I kept eyeing Kyrgystan but was hesitant to do it solo. Similarly, most of South America – while interesting and a region I want to explore further – was just too far away, unstable, and of a hassle for safe solo travel. Right around that time, an airfare special popped up to the country of Georgia.

I was torn. The price was much less than all of the other last-minute options. But, I knew very little about Georgia other than that friends had loved it, there had been a war there, and some misinformed assumptions about it being fairly crime-laden and corrupt. To make things even worse, as I researched it further, the area I wanted to visit – Svaneti – was flagged as remote, difficult to get to, and so inaccessible that many mainstream car rental companies refused to rent cars with access to the region. Still, the timing looked good, and I knew I NEEDED to push myself to get a more adventurous solo trip in. It also meant I’d need to rent a car and drive the trip – in a country where everyone complained about the drivers. It made me nervous.

But, as I researched it more I started to get more context. The Svaneti region wasn’t AS difficult as people made it out to be, and infrastructure had been improved significantly. The country was affordable. The locals didn’t speak English in more rural areas but were incredibly friendly. It was, also, to my surprise not only very safe, but had extremely low levels of corruption. Still, the prospect of driving in the country and my timing – I was hoping to catch the first snow in the mountains, but to arrive early enough to get autumn colors but not blocked mountain passes – also made me particularly concerned about tackling it solo.

So, when a close friend, but non-photographer friend expressed her interest in joining I gave her my laundry-list of expectations for the trip and expressed a tentative openness to company vs. the typical default “no”. To her credit, she was up for it, and willing to sign on to the trip. No small feat, considering the focus on avoiding big cities, hours of delays each day as I paused to photograph random waterfalls, trees, fallen logs, or waited for light to change, and my haphazard approach to booking accommodation at max a day in advance, and usually closer to minutes or hours before arriving. I’m thrilled she did as what followed was a spectacular road trip through an incredible country timed perfectly.

The trip and the country were nothing short of magnificent. Our ramshackle, beat up car rental nicknamed “Adishi” was reliable if ugly. The Georgian people were magnificently kind and friendly. The country was absolutely gorgeous. The food was fantastic. The weather cooperated beautifully. The autumn colors left me awed. And the roads and Georgian drivers were far better than I’d been led to believe. My fears melted away like butter on a warm summer Arizona day and I found myself invigorated (photos here).

Which served to build my confidence and energize my wanderlust. Upon returning to Denmark from the quick 10-day jaunt, I immediately started exploring options for my December/holiday break. With an extended period of Christmas holidays, I planned to make the most of them with a longer trip. The question though? Where to? I looked at a return to Vietnam. Considered Malaysia. Watched airfare to Africa. Glanced at South America. But ultimately found airfare prices, security concerns, and logistics left me staring at a booking page for a route that would take me into China (Shanghai), include three primary destinations for photography/nature/culture and then kick down to Bangkok for 2 days, as part of an extended layover before balancing the frozen cold of mid-December in the Chinese mountains with the modest warmth and sand deserts of Oman to follow.

The trip would have been a fantastic #brothersberger trip had David been available. But, without him, as a solo trip – it left me nervous. Legs of it had been covered on our previous #brothersberger visit to China when we flew into Shanghai, cut across to Zhangjiajie and Tianmen Mountain. However, other parts were brand new – including visiting Mt. Huangshan the “Yellow Mountain”, and a heavy detour down to Fuzhou and the Xiapu region.

The Oman leg was the part I was most worried about. I had heard it was safe. I had heard it was easy to navigate. I had heard they were friendly. But, I just wasn’t sure what to expect. Especially given the only way to practically get around was to rent a car, and to just drive. It also turned out, that it was “peak” season in a country famous for its expensive infrastructure. I was also worried I’d be bored/unimpressed by the natural landscapes with many having strong similarities to the Arizona/Sonoran Mexico landscapes I grew up with. And to make things even more hairy, as the date approached for my departure, there was a surge in chatter about the Sultan’s failing health, the possibility of his passing, and fears of a possible coup. I repeatedly considered canceling the trip, monitored his health closely, and crossed my fingers I wouldn’t find myself on an evac plane out of the country as things imploded.

Ultimately, the trip went off largely without a hitch. The timing could not have been better. The Chinese leg went smoothly, with the exception of a lost leg due to a canceled flight. I was able to leverage my flexible itinerary to get all of the primary photos I wanted despite the challenging weather conditions. Mt. Huangshan was magnificent and largely empty. Xiapu was fascinating and full of incredible photography opportunities. Zhangjiajie and Tianmen mountain were enjoyable if less magnificent and exciting than when I’d been there previously with my brother David. Through it all, I was often also one of the only westerners around. After departing Shanghai, through the Huangshan and Xiapu legs, I believe I saw no more than 12 to 15 other western tourists over a week and a half – including in rail stations and airports. Yet, logistics, including two days with a chartered taxi driver who I could only speak to through Google Translate – went smoothly. Photos here.

Meanwhile, Oman left me humbled and delighted. I arrived feeling as though I’d need to be on guard, unsure what to expect, and assuming I’d have to show great care and caution on what areas I visited. I assumed I’d need to avoid going out at night, bleed money on expensive accommodation, and have trouble accessing the dunes. What met me, was an incredibly welcoming culture, full of friendly people. Roads were fantastic, access to the primary natural wonders I was interested in were easy, and I was never hassled, hustled, or annoyed. Things were so safe, welcoming, and friendly that I was comfortable exploring several small villages on the fringe of the sand dunes as dusk fell, walking the Bengali street markets after dark, and eating in local restaurants that had likely never seen an American before. I was able to book-on-the-go, and found $30-$40 dollar accommodations that were mostly clean, modern, and fantastic (no squat toilets)! Photos aren’t edited yet, but I did put together this quick video with a small number of clips I took between extended photo sessions.

In retrospect, the timing was incredibly lucky. Sadly, the Sultan of Oman passed away on January 10th, just 6 days after I returned to Denmark. Luckily, the transfer of power was smooth and the new Sultan seems to be committed to continuing in the footsteps of his predecessor.

My time in China was also extremely lucky. Arriving there December 14th and departing for Thailand December 28th meant that I missed the primary lockdown and mitigation efforts surrounding COVID-19 by weeks. Particularly disconcerting looking back, is the knowledge that COVID-19 was starting to spread throughout December and that the epicenter in Wuhan was situated exactly in the middle of my stopovers in Anhui at Mt. Huangshan and Zhangjiajie in Hunan. I’m grateful that due to the cold weather my physical interactions were limited, and I was largely outdoors and away from crowds. Also, that by luck, timing, or lack of exposure, I did not register any symptoms or cause to be concerned I’d been exposed. By the time mitigation efforts started, I’d already passed the 20+ day mark without showing signs of symptoms.

A Cell Phone and Data Package Are Liberating

The secret weapon that empowered both of the trips above was my cellphone. The thing that was re-affirmed this year for me over and over was that your cell phone is an incredibly powerful and liberating asset which unlocks travel opportunities. I ardently disagree with anyone who claims that the modern cell phone has been detrimental to travel and fundamentally undermines people’s ability to explore and adventure. I’d argue that if that’s the case – you’re using it wrong.

Some of you have probably heard of the “Lonely Planet Trail” – effectively, it embodies the trend that certain guides, guide books, and tools for centralizing knowledge historically had a heavy impact on travel behavior. In practice, difficulty accessing knowledge and navigating maps/homestays and accommodation tends to concentrate and centralize travelers. This goes as far back as structured travel. The format just changes with Lonely Planet and related guide books reflecting one of the most recent, guide book supported incarnations. But, even as I write this, I have a city guide to Norway and Sweden from 1899 which I’m sure facilitated many of the same trends.

To be sure – there were individuals that roamed further afield, left these well-trodden paths behind, and carved their own path. But in such cases, sleeping in fields, randomly approaching farmers, and moving at a much more cautious pace was far more necessary. In recent years, others would navigate by paper map, or pre-book an itinerary weeks or months in advance.

The beauty of having a phone with you now is that it bridges a wide range of different assets. It makes navigating down roads otherwise only frequented by locals possible. It makes stumbling upon random sights and points of interest organically much easier and the discovery of small or less well-known attractions much easier. It allows maximum flexibility but without fear of getting stranded, lost, or endangered. It helps with planning timings. In cases where you’re not traveling by car, it can also greatly enhance the ease of certain types of bookings. And perhaps most important of all, it dissolves language barriers in new, exciting, and fascinating ways.

I’m using these tools to empower my travels and exploration. They’re also an essential tool supporting solo trips, and non-solo trips like China, Oman and Georgia.

Language Barrier – One of the biggest differences I noticed this trip vs. my two previous visits to China was how much easier it was to engage with people. Previously, in many cases, the Chinese would close down, gesture they didn’t speak English, and end conversations almost immediately. I remember finding it was a stark contrast to what I’d experienced in other parts of Asia where usually locals would find a young child who spoke English, or together we’d fumble through gestures and drawings until we figured something out.

However, with each trip, the proliferation of translation apps has had a tangible and visible impact. By our second trip, most people would default to a translate app instead of shutting down or were open to using ours. By this trip, the previous challenges communicating were almost completely gone. Key apps like WeChat and DiDi automatically translated between English and Chinese. More than that, at one point I found myself sitting in a hostel with an old Chinese woman using the Google Translate app (downloaded with language pack) and the “draw character” capability. While often you’ll see people comfortable texting, in her case, she would write out the questions and statements for me – the app would turn them into Chinese characters – and then translate to English. In another situation, my taxi driver/chartered freelance guide and I communicated exclusively through translation apps over the duration of a 2-day period.

This was also essential in Georgia where the locals mostly only spoke Russian or Georgian. We spent one evening drinking moonshine and eating fresh fruit fed in a constant flow to us by an elderly Georgian grandmother who had to be in her 90s. We joined the other guests at the B&B – two Siberian families, who spoke a tiny bit of English supplemented by our apps. They’d driven 3,000 miles down to Georgia on holiday with the kids, and did the trip every few years. In addition to the Georgian moonshine, the Russian family had a board game they’d created, which came out and we all ended up playing. Having the phone also made it possible for them to share photos of their home city, their projects, etc. with us. It made for a lovely and memorable evening.

The optical text recognition and translation also helps navigating menus, talking to hosts, and engaging with people. I usually have data, but also make a point of downloading the Google Translate app and dedicated language packs for the country/region I’m visiting. I’m incredibly excited by the potential these technologies show and the impact they’ll have.

Booking and Discovering Accommodation – I hate having to lock in accommodations far in advance. It’s restrictive. It limits flexibility. It also adds a certain level of stress. There are times where you just have to do it. My first two nights in accommodation on top of Huangshan Mountain – for example – required booking weeks in advance and were expensive. But, had I locked in all the following legs of my trip, transport, accommodation, etc. – then extending the two additional nights opportunistically when dorm beds opened up at 1/5th the price – wouldn’t have been possible.

Having data, and then narrowing in on the booking site most widely used in a given country, opens up the potential for same-day bookings, reduces the risk of shady/fraudulent pricing, and makes wandering off the beaten path far easier. In China, I used Trip.com and Booking.com. In Oman, I used Booking and Agoda. In China, we booked most of our accommodation through Booking.com and were able to easily navigate the homestays and farm stays without stress. We also found small villages we’d have otherwise never ventured into, specifically because we had the apps at hand. In other areas, I’ll default to Airbnb or hostelworld.com.

In each of these cases, I was able to book the day before or same day, and sometimes mere hours in advance. I was also able to scout the viability of visiting some areas – and in the case of Oman, able to find accommodation that was outside the luxury resorts charging $150 a day while still securing quality, clean accommodation.

Transportation and Navigation – People often express fear and discomfort over transiting in China. Others stress concerns about the logistics, getting around, booking things, and finding the right train/plane/bus. I was amazed by how easy getting around in China was. Largely for two reasons. First, numbers remain the same. So the 5:30 7781 train from Shanghai to Huangshan may read Shanghai and Huangshan in Chinese, but 5:30 and the train number will still be in Arabic numerals. Second, I was able to book everything using cTrip’s Trip.com app. This included looking up train and flight time tables, as well as reserving/purchasing train reservations. Which meant the only thing I had to do was walk up to the pickup window, show the confirmation number, and collect the tickets. While China makes this abnormally easy, it’s increasingly the case around the world.

It also hits all stages of the journey. In the same way I was using the apps for long-distance journeys, I’d use DiDi in China, or Grab in Asia for low-cost transport within the city or to the airport. All backed by added levels of safety, mapping, and real-time tracking. While some, such as the Chinese taxi drivers in Zhangjiajie were still running mild scams for minor fees such as “parking”, these were fewer and far between. They also opened up the ability to hop on a Grab moped taxi to zip across the city, experience different areas I’d otherwise struggle to get to via public transport, and back in 1/10th the time for only marginally increased costs.

From a navigational perspective, I love using maps to explore in real-time, to chart my journey as it evolves, and to wander. From Romania to Scotland, Oman, and Georgia – the ability to look at a map, read the geographic terrain, look for points of interest, and navigate back roads, single-lane tracks, and to avoid major highways without risk of getting severely lost or stranded is an amazing asset.

Should you accept the various privacy considerations you’re giving up, you can enable GPS tracking in Google Maps for example – and use it to chart and map your journey. The above highlights my route on a single day in Oman. You can see my accommodation (it was terrible btw). Start at the bottom, and my hotel in the evening at the top (it was excellent). There’s a spot I paused to eat marked and then you can see how I was using back roads, satellite imagery, and maps to wind in and get access to the Dunes.

You can also do some pretty fun stuff with this data afterward such as this example of the composited travel data I was able to pull from my phone from the Georgia trip.

What are the technical specifics? I have an unlocked iPhone with GSM/Sim capabilities. If I’m in Europe, Eurozone roaming is now automatic with a hefty data package attached which eliminates my need to swap sims. However, when I’m visiting other countries – the U.S., Oman, Vietnam, China, Iceland, etc. I’ll buy and swap out a local SIM. The price in MOST countries is extremely reasonable, even for hefty amounts of data. I rarely pay more than $10 for several GB of data. The exception, of course, is the US, where corruption and monopolies make finding anything under $60 almost impossible.

In many cases, you’ll find certain data is restricted. Sometimes it’s a small collection of websites, other times, it’s far more noticeable (e.g. China). In some cases, for privacy reasons as much as access I’ll use a VPN but using care and caution when I do it. It’s worth noting, that on Apple devices your app store is normally linked to your account. This means you’ll have surprisingly robust access to apps in, e.g. China, so long as you’re on your U.S. login. It’s also worth noting that VPN’s are always changing. Free VPN’s can be even more dangerous for your data than not using anything at all. Some premium VPN’s have a tendency not to work when/where you want them to.

Evolving Photography

What a year. From when I turned 34 last March I enjoyed an incredible mixture of sunsets. There was the sunset viewed from atop a great dune in Colorado as the storm blew past and the sand settled. There were a host of magical sunsets during my week-long solo road trip through Scotland including stunning light over Eilean Donnan Castle and magical reflections near the Summer Isles. I enjoyed a pipe, sitting surrounded by autumn foliage while watching the sky light on fire behind a series of Svan Towers in Georgia and spent multiple evenings relaxing with a coffee on a back porch looking out over incredible vistas and sunset views of the Caucasus mountains. I sat hunkered down in freezing fog on a mountain top on Mt. Huangshan in China only to re-visit the same spot the following day where I served as witness to one of the most magnificent sunsets I’ve ever seen. I watched the blues of the Gulf of Oman go purple, reflecting the light while framed by a small fishing village and stood alone at the edge of the Wahiba Sands dunes as the sky turned golden, violet, and then faded to rich blues. And of course, I spent numerous quiet sunsets relaxing on one of the great stone mooring pillars that line Copenhagen’s Nyhavn harbor.

It was, simply put, another incredible year. One that positively overflowed with spectacular beauty, tranquility, and the type of moments that bring back a powerful sense of calm and joy when I touch upon their memory.

I am profoundly grateful for the role photography has played in facilitating those moments. Between the trips, the gear, and the time investment that goes into it – photography remains a significant financial and time investment for me. Even with my focus on doing things as economically as possible and managing many of these trips for significantly less than most assume – they’re a significant financial investment. Add in thousands of dollars in gear and the endless hours I spend editing my photos every year and it’s impossible not to periodically ask myself if it’s a sound investment.

But, when I step back and I look at all of the things I draw from photography it becomes a no-brainer. At least for the time being. Photography serves as a mechanism for not only getting me out and about, but for pushing my comfort zone. There’s also something about my camera that makes it a veritable time and discomfort distortion device. With it in hand, I can sit for hours watching the grass blow, people drift through city streets or the light change. With my camera in hand I’ll trudge up steep sand dunes, pouring buckets of sweat – just to see if a vantage point is slightly better. I’ll also spend hours hidden behind a small stone wall while being pelted by frozen wind and pre-dawn mist in the hope of capturing first light.

I’m sure there’s some path to those experiences without it. But the sense of purpose. The challenge and the opportunity to record it and to share it in the future with myself and others energizes me in a way simply trying to force myself into the moment otherwise just doesn’t do. So often in other aspects of our lives we talk about the need for purpose. But, when it comes to finding moments of peace, reflection, or introspection – we’re encouraged to forego the purpose in favor of … some nebulous nothing. I suspect, at least for myself, that of far more importance is the how and why I am drawn to something. For me, the end goal isn’t the perfect photo – that’s a bonus. What I’m truly in pursuit of is the facilitation of experience and insight. Perhaps, at some level, it’s similar to why others choose to pursue a black belt or sign on to run a marathon.

This is not to say the craft of photography isn’t also a deeply meaningful part of the process. I continue to go through waves of deep pride and satisfaction with my images and edits, followed by periods of deep frustration and dissatisfaction. It still amazes me how it happens, even after all these years of being aware of it – and sometimes in relatively short time horizons/the same piece of art. But, I’ve come to accept that it’s just part of my process.

Last year I set out to focus on enhancing my editing, printing more of my work, and submitting to various open calls and contests. I also wanted to work more on taking portraits.

I’m pleased to share that one of my photos was chosen as 1 of 3 Nature (Landscape and Wildlife) to represent Denmark in the World Photographic Cup international competition. I’ve also had another photo make it into the advanced judging round, for a still-pending photo competition. Similarly, it’s always quite interesting to see where my photos are getting picked up (and typically used illegally due to the CC-NonCommerical license I publish under). From major media, to large brands, independent blogs, and a mixture everywhere in between. One fun (legal) illustration of this was when Lonely Planet featured my photo of Iguazu Falls in Argentina prominently in their 2019 “Best Destinations to Visit in 2020” guide. Another fantastic highlight was when I was approached by the folks at Simon & Schuster to license one of my Danish photos as cover art for the U.S. version of “The Tenant” a crime novel written Katrine Engberg, a bestselling Danish author.

I’ve already learned a lot about the printing process and found a printer I like. So, moving forward over the year to come, I’ll continue to experiment with paper, print types, and how to best prepare my photos. It’s definitely a craft in and of itself to prepare artwork for print. It’s also a wonderfully rewarding experience to get to hold a photo in my hands, especially in larger A3, A2, or A1 sizes. I’m still not actively selling prints, but have fulfilled a few one-off requests and hope to do more selectively on this front in 2020. As I get more confident with my ability to deliver the quality and crispness of print I feel necessary – I’ll work to make more prints selectively available.

Closing Thoughts on Turning 35

What is 35? It’s an interesting age. When I was younger it was one of those cultural thresholds that’s meant as a waymarker. I find it interesting as a point of reflection. I suppose, if any emotion, in particular, jumps out at me – it’s surprise. Surprise that 35 is already here. Surprise at how life evolves and at how content I am with things. There’s a lot I want to work on, both as projects and within myself – but that’s exactly how I want it. I suppose at some level, I thought I’d be more ready to be settled by now. But as I sit here and reflect, I feel as though there’s still ample time and no need to rush myself. These past five years have focused heavily on embracing the moment, the journey, and relishing the details and I love where it continues to lead.

As to turning 35 in the midst of lockdown during a pandemic with a world in transition? It adds a certain context to things. It is a powerful reminder not to take things for granted. It’s also a strong opportunity to push myself to practice what I preach. To focus on finding the facts, framing and better understanding the historical context, and keeping in touch with my inner self and needs. As an introvert, I’m happy with the added down time and time with my thoughts. With a computer connection as a gateway, I feel connected to friends around the world. I’m also awed by how it brings people together, and has led the best among us to feel even more connected to each other.

I celebrated this birthday in the oddest of ways. The birthday itself fell on my 15th day working from home and of partial isolation. It also fell on the same day my employer announced a crisis-response initiative that included a round of temporary salary reductions led by the C-level. Stressful news for a birthday. But, at the same time, good news in that it showed leadership and meant we weren’t looking at a round of layoffs. Framing and context is key. Beyond that, my brother and friends then surprised me with first the deliver of a bottle of Scotch by courier, and then a mass-zoom call where more than 15 of them joined me for a digital drink, in costume, before showing a hilarious and heartfelt video. It was an amazing and touching surprise and left me feeling incredibly blessed.

So… who knows where this year will take us. Some things will change dramatically. But, in general, history assures me that much will also remain the same. I can only hope that this crisis builds the foundations of a new renaissance in investment in people, social programs, health, welfare, and education. Let’s see where next year finds me. It’s guaranteed to be one heck of an eventful year.

Every year I post 100 of my favorite photos from the year’s travels.  Ordinarily, this post comes around the New Year. For 2018 I was a full year delayed due to issues with WordPress. While its black and white sibling landed in June 2019, it is only in 2020 that I’ve had a chance to find a way to embed links to the flickr albums where these photos are hosted. 

This year’s post includes photos from the Faroe Islands, Iceland, China, Vietnam, Laos, Norway, Denmark, France and Italy.  It was a spectacular year of travel and one which was complemented by really getting to know my Sony A7RII. The Sony also brings with it added video capabilities which have led to added exploration with creating video content which you can explore here.

This post is part of an annual tradition.  For previous years, check out 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016 and 2017. You can also see my 100 favorite black and white shots from 2018 (HERE).

For my daily photo posts feel free to tune in and follow along via Instagram @virtualwayfarer.

Questions about how I composed or took a specific photo? Feel free to ask in a comment. You’re also encouraged to check out my complete flickr albums here which include the many other shots from 2018 (and previous years) which didn’t make it in this post.

Thanks for joining me on this exploration of my favorite color photos from 2018. I apologize for how long it took me to get them up. Issues with new versions of WordPress added in a delay of about 8 months as I explored a workaround. Photos were all shot on a Sony A7R II. Stay tuned as with my 2019 shots now edited, I’ll be posting similar wrap-ups in the near-future and endeavoring to get back on track!