#58 Håna oss, vi rör oss, ni står still
Sometimes I do things I don't really dare to do, or things that just feel... a bit cringe. Strategic decisions that could go wrong, step onto a stage, or post something corny on LinkedIn. Things where I risk failing or losing face, but that still feel important enough that I do them anyway. Important to me, that is. I'm not a nurse, a teacher, a politician, or an aid worker. I'm a designer and a company builder. The stakes are rarely that high, not really.
On November 12, 1997, Kent released the album Isola. The reviews were glowing. Personally I thought their two earlier albums, Kent and Verkligen, were considerably stronger, but like many others I got hooked on the song that for many years would close their concerts, 747.
What caught me were the lyrics:
Ni kan skratta om ni vill. Håna oss, vi rör oss, ni står still.
You can laugh all you will. Mock us, we are moving, you stand still.
I have no idea what Jocke Berg actually meant by those words. But every time I'm about to do something I don't really dare, but that feels too important not to, they're running on repeat somewhere in the back of my head.
On the bigger scale, that's meant things like starting a company in the middle of the dot-com crisis, or during covid, opening offices in multiple cities at once, attempting an expansion to the US, selling the company I helped build, starting over with something new when I've already "proven yourself", building a proprietary platform for lifelong learning... Decisions that are genuinely hard, with real upside if they work, and real downside if they don't.
On a slightly smaller scale, it's about daring to take up space. Writing a book. Standing on a stage. The book Användbarhet i praktiken (eng: Usability in practice) was far from perfect, but it was vital for getting inUse off the ground. The talk Ingrid and I gave at From Business to Buttons in 2014, about UX maturity in Swedish companies, same thing. I was more nervous than I'd ever been. But beyond the data being interesting, the research helped strengthen inUse's position. I remember consoling myself with the thought that even if I make a complete fool of myself, I might at least inspire someone else to try, and do it better. A thought I've come back to many times since.
On a smaller scale still, I've lately noticed I'm filtering less. I'd like to think it's because I'm genuinely more comfortable with risk than I used to be, and because conversations get interesting faster when you skip the polished and the expected. It might also be that I care less than I once did. Or that I've simply turned into a typical middle-aged Swedish man. Probably impossible to know, and maybe it doesn't matter much.
Everything you do and say carries risk. Including this post. "God, how pretentious." "Not another 70s guy who worships Kent, boring." "More life wisdom from someone who thinks they have it all figured out."
And ironically, Kent's English-language version of that very album—their attempt at an international breakthrough—was itself a huge risk. It fell flat. But I admire them for trying.
Because... F*ck it.
Ni kan skratta om ni vill. Håna oss, vi rör oss, ni står still.