The Thread Through My Work

People sometimes ask what my essays are “about.”

Europe. AI. Abundance. Agents. Hayek. Consciousness. Cars. Defence. Spiritual readiness. Markets. The Gita. On a bad day even I can look at the shelf and think it is a scattered table.

It is not scattered. It is one question seen from different rooms of the same house I keep walking through.

The question is this: what kind of world leaves a human being free enough — and resourced enough — to develop consciousness without being owned by a faction, a fear, a dashboard, or a savior story?

That is my thread.

The map is not the point

If you sort my work by topic, the piles are obvious enough.

I write about geopolitics and European sovereignty: No Leverage, No Sovereignty, Europe Is Not Sovereign. It Is Comfortable., the four directions for Europe, the movement of mind, the paper empire, Draghi, defence adulthood, capital as chip.

I write about disruptive technology and abundance: Tony Seba, the abundance stack, energy and batteries, agents, model factories, the taste gap, learning loops, software becoming conversation, the end of scarcity stories.

I write about consciousness and meaning: Truth Is Not a Thought, The Source Code of Meaning, the outside as illusion, the headset we forgot, AI as mirror, the singularity that is not only compute, readiness and the lost art of master and student, awe beyond the magician of emergency.

And between those rooms I keep a builder lane open, because I do not only comment: AI4 Accountancy as laboratory, the last human in the loop, machines that should make us more human, Hayek for the Age of Agents.

Useful shelves. Still secondary.

Because the deeper order in my writing is not topical. It is anthropological and spiritual at once. What can a free person become when scarcity softens, institutions try to think for everyone, and machines amplify both wisdom and delusion?

Geopolitics is not left or right for me

In politics I keep returning to individual freedom. Not as a club uniform. As a condition for inner life.

I do not believe collectives can fully know what is right for a living person in time. When a collective pretends it can, and then enforces the pretence, individual freedom is not a side casualty. It is the first payment. That is why this is not a left-right position in the ordinary sense. Left and right both love to become magicians. Both love certainty costumes. Both love emergency architecture when fear is available.

My diametric stand is simpler.

I want the freedom for a human being to develop consciousness.

That requires speech, error, property, exit, skin in the game, and institutions that cannot immortalize themselves through panic. It requires hostility to emergency that refuses to die, and humility before what we do not know. Hayek is not only economics for me here. He is epistemology with consequences. No single mind, and no single ministry, can hold the whole.

So when I write about Europe, I am not doing policy hobby. I am defending the open field in which a person might still become someone.

Technology is not my religion either

Disruptive technology matters to me for the same reason, seen from the other side of the mountain.

When energy, intelligence, logistics, and knowledge get cheaper, more people can climb whatever ladder you prefer — Maslow, developmental stages, ordinary dignity. Fewer people stuck under the poverty line. More knowledge under the fingers. More tools where only priests and capitals used to stand. We move, in a rough historical arc, from subjects of princes toward something closer to capable adults with godlike instruments. Scarcity loosens. Abundance becomes imaginable not as a utopia poster but as infrastructure.

That, too, is space for consciousness.

Not automatic enlightenment. Space.

A person drowning in survival has a different spiritual problem than a person drowning in options. Abundance without inner development becomes sedation, status, and new priesthoods. Scarcity without tools becomes cruelty with better excuses. When I write about agents, factories, interfaces, and abundance, I am not doing tech fandom. I am working the material half of the same wager: free the outer constraints enough that inner work is no longer a luxury product for the few.

The Machine Should Make Us More Human was me saying it from the AI side. The machine is not the point. The enlarged human is.

The field of the magician

Where I see people get lost — and where I catch myself too — is black and white.

Good side. Bad side. Right camp. Wrong camp. Forever hero. Forever villain. This is the field of the magician: the one who needs the world sorted so that control can feel like virtue.

Stories I trust keep correcting that hunger. In Star Wars the path of the hero is haunted by the future villain; power without inner balance becomes the mask. In Harry Potter the dark and the light keep trading faces through fear and love. In Tolkien the ring does not only corrupt “the bad people.” It tests everyone who would use power to set the world right. Yoda and Dumbledore, at their best, are not managers of destiny. They protect a living balance and still leave the young to fight their own fight. That is not negligence. That is respect for becoming.

The point is not that good and evil are fake. The point is that clinging to the costume of the hero is how the hero starts becoming the problem.

I see the same pattern in politics and spirituality. If a system cannot let people walk their own battle — err, learn, choose, refuse — it may speak the language of care while practicing possession. If spirituality cannot tolerate the student’s actual stage, it becomes certificate magic. If AI ethics cannot tolerate adult agency, it becomes a softer cage.

From magician to monk

When freedom is real enough, something quieter becomes possible.

Not the endless war of labels. The work of seeing through the war itself.

That is the old movement from magician to monk, from dualistic combat to non-dual clarity. The magician still believes salvation is a technique of control: the right spell, the right party, the right model, the right emergency. The monk — in the serious sense, not the costume — begins to notice that the deepest bondage is identification with the drama of being right.

This does not abolish action. It changes the quality of action.

Here the Bhagavad Gita is not a decorative Eastern quote in my library. It is the red line under the whole of it.

Arjuna wants out of the fight because the fight is intimate and terrible. Krishna does not offer him a pure abstention fantasy, and does not offer him hatred as fuel either. He offers dharma without possession of the fruit: act where you must, but do not let the ego crown itself as owner of outcomes. Do your work. Relinquish the fever of result. See more than the costume of friend and enemy.

That is how I want to stay political without becoming partisan, technological without becoming idolatrous, spiritual without becoming escapist.

I can help build factories and still refuse to worship control. I can defend a free order and still refuse permanent emergency. I can use agents and still remain the one who means. I can fight necessary battles and still know I am not the center of Being.

One thread, many rooms

So my essays only look scattered if you sort them by keyword.

Sorted by thread, they rhyme because I keep returning to the same vow from new doors.

When I write Europe, Hayek, and anti-emergency politics, I am protecting the outer freedom in which consciousness can develop without collective omniscience cosplay.

When I write disruption and abundance, I am loosening material cages so more humans can stand upright long enough to ask deeper questions.

When I write AI and agents, I am forcing the issue of meaning: if output is cheap, what remains distinctly human is judgment, taste, responsibility, presence.

When I write consciousness, I refuse the cheap ending where tech or tribe becomes a substitute god.

When I write spiritual readiness, I refuse the other cheap ending where everyone buys the summit on a weekend and calls it arrival.

And the Gita binds my work: necessary action without the magician’s claim to own the whole.

What I am actually defending

I am not defending a brand called “right.” I am not defending a brand called “progress.” I am not defending a brand called “tech.” I am not even defending a brand called “spirituality.”

I am defending a human trajectory I want for myself, my sons, and anyone still willing to become someone.

From fear to responsibility. From scarcity theater to real capability. From being managed to being answerable. From hero costumes to lived balance. From duality as identity to non-duality as clarity — without using non-duality as an excuse to abandon the field.

In plainer language: I want people free enough, resourced enough, and honest enough to become conscious. Everything else in my work is instrumentation around that.

The magician says: join my certainty. The monk says: do your duty, and wake up inside it. My thread says: protect the conditions where waking remains possible.

That is why my library keeps growing sideways. Not because the center is missing.

Because the center is quiet, and the world keeps offering me new rooms in which the same vow has to be kept.