Reflections from a place between insight and action
We know so much. The problems are mapped. The solutions exist. And yet—we remain stuck. Many of us working in sustainability feel a strange kind of fatigue. Not because we lack knowledge, but because we have too much of it—and too little that actually moves forward.
I’ve started calling it insight fatigue.
These are some of the thoughts I’ve been carrying lately—in my work, in conversations with people, and in quiet moments - like this summer holiday, reflecting on what we’re actually doing.
From insight to stagnation
After a couple of intense years immersed in the packaging and the textile industry— in interviews, academia, strategies, sustainability models—I have come to a realization: There are many who knows. And many who cares. But many of us still wondering why more doesn’t actually happen.
Today, I work in the space between sustainability,business and design. Where vision meets reality. Where it’s not always about inventing new solutions, but connecting the ones that already exist. Where the issue isn’t knowledge—but momentum.
A landscape full of solutions—but few paths between them
In the industry clusters I work in, I see both the will and the ability. The solutions are there. But they’re not being connected well enough. Too many initiatives collapse under economic logic—where linear still equals cheaper. Not because it’s better, but because we haven’t yet priced all costs.
ORKLA recently shut down a reuse model after five years of development. It didn’t pay off. TOMRA is working on new models for reuse, but experience that becoming profitable without regulatory change is hard. These are not exceptions.
This is the system working—exactly as it was designed.
We have the language—but lack future competence
Sustainability reporting has become an entire industry. We now have shared terminology and solid frameworks. That’s a good thing. But what’s still missing is future competence—the ability to design what we haven’t yet seen, and lead toward goals we haven’t yet experienced.
We’re good at the why. And quite good at the what. But the how is still a struggle.
What we need now may not be more insight. We need more collaboration. More cross-pollination. More experimentation.
What are we giving young people?
I often think about those who will inherit our systems and what we are actually giving them. Tools and frameworks? Or courage and meaning?
“Vi har alt, men ingenting å ha det i...”
The Norwegian artist Anne Grete Preus once put it beautifully: “We have everything—but nothing to put it in.”
I think many young people feel exactly that. It’s not opportunity they lack—but something solid to hold it in. Carriers of meaning. Stories. Anchoring.
What I dream of
I’m not dreaming of more KPIs. I’m dreaming of...
A world where it’s expensive to harm—and profitable to care.
A revival of craftsmanship. Local production. A sense of mastery and pride.
A shift from compliance to commitment.
Young people who feel ownership of their future—and know what to fill it with.
Real cross-sector collaboration—not just talk about it.
And that we finally stop asking whether we can afford transformation—and start asking why we think we can afford not to.
And maybe most of all: I dream of simpler thinking. One evening a few years ago, I sat with some other adults talking about what we would do if we were so rich that we didn’t have any wishes anymore. My daughter, four years old at the time, quietly said: “Then you can just go skiing.”
Maybe that’s it, a life not about more—but about meaning. And movement.
Not one grand story—but many small ones
Maybe what we need now is not one unifying narrative, but many small, clear stories that people can relate to—and act on. Stories of possibility, hope, and shared responsibility. Stories that don’t generate guilt, but spark movement.
Perhaps the future lives in the simple, not the grandiose.
These are some of the reflections I’ve been having lately. Not because I have the answers—but because I want to be part of connecting what we know with what we actually do.
We have everything—now we need a better system to hold it all together
