I see the content I consume as seeds that I plant in my brain, and also the fertilizer. Therefore, the information that passes through my filter will define what grows out of it: knowledge, ideas, happiness, or anxiety and stress?

News generates so much stress, often unnecessarily. One can probably recall some headlines from January–February last year, the anxiety they created, only to be irrelevant by the end of 2025. Other news did indeed prove to be correct and significant, and we felt it or experienced it. Was it worth agonizing over a news story and 20 different coverages and takes of it?

Everything is not black and white, of course. But with this much information reaching us from all over the world, I believe everyone needs a strategy for how to stay sane. Here is mine.

Today, the third edition of the Guide to Developing a National Cybersecurity Strategy was launched. This year, UNDP was invited to contribute to the revision of the guide, and I was fortunate to be included in two working groups: one focused on risk, and one on capacity building.

While I didn't contribute as much as I would have liked (newborn timing!), I still feel privileged to have shared thoughts and inputs on the working draft in both areas. Two points from this work feel especially important and interesting to me:

Supply chain risks and digital sovereignty. As countries think more seriously about digital sovereignty, some argue it's not the right approach in our globally interconnected world. Yet cybersecurity is one area where even skeptics tend to agree: countries need solid approaches to managing supply chain risk. That means conducting proper risk assessments, developing hardware and software bills of materials, and thinking strategically about how to protect critical infrastructure. It also means clearly understanding external technological dependencies and deliberately weighing the trade-offs they create.

This week, we launched the Digital Rights Dashboard, a tool that reviews how countries are set up to protect human rights in the digital space. What began for me as "can you quickly help with this while a team member is leaving?" has turned into one of my favourite projects at UNDP.

At first, I was mostly excited about working on the methodology and data sources. The debates about the objectivity (or rather, subjectivity) of certain databases, and what indicators should or shouldn't be included. The calculations. But the human rights angle initially felt a bit too high-level. I tended to view human rights as somewhat abstract, something others invoked when pointing out wrongdoing.

Luckily, it didn't take long to realise that all the topics I found really important were actually about human rights in the digital domain. Algorithmic transparency? That's the right to non-discrimination. Content moderation policies? The right to free expression. Blocking online platforms, especially social media? The right to freedom of assembly and free expression. Privacy? It's a human right, too. And we weren’t setting out to look for what’s wrong, but rather to take a step back, understand what’s happening, and think about what can help countries make progress in rights-based digital transformation.

I recently had a conversation about change management and realized it's been a while since I took a step back to reflect on key lessons, especially since the pandemic accelerated digitalization to a whole new level of scale and speed. Looking back on the many changes I've had to manage or be part of, four things stand out:

1. People over systems.

Assuming that what people do at work aligns with organizational goals, we need to look closely at what they do and why, then design solutions that connect organizational needs (like cyber-safe behavior) with how people actually work. People will naturally use tools that save them time and make their jobs easier. The key isn't to stop them, it's to provide tools that do the same thing safely, or to teach them how to use what they already have responsibly. And it's not just about matching functionality. User experience design matters enormously. There may be many tools for running surveys, but clear leaders emerge because they're simply more usable. So if you want people to use a specific tool, do good user research before settling on one.

I recently heard someone say, “Of course people should care about how AI works, they should care about how algorithms work, and they should participate.” While I completely understand the spirit behind this remark, I couldn't help but think—we expect people to care about too many things.

We're asked to care about the climate and environment, peace and security, health and education, censorship and free speech, algorithms, and more. But realistically, how much time can one person dedicate to all these concerns?

Moreover, what does "caring" actually entail? How many people—already balancing jobs, families, friendships, and hobbies—can also invest time into researching all these critically important issues? It simply isn't reasonable to expect most people to actively engage with all of them. In my view, it's just not possible.

This raises a deeper question: What does participatory decision-making look like beyond voting? Do we, by default, delegate these responsibilities to academia? And for practitioners, what does having an inclusive, participatory process mean in practice? Is it enough to open the doors for everyone to participate, or should we actively ensure a diversity of opinions?

The push to return to five days in the office feels like a step backward—and the critique of remote work often misses the mark. The real issue isn’t where people work; it’s management. If managers can’t trust employees to deliver without constant oversight, that’s not a remote problem—it’s a leadership gap. People scroll social media in offices too; the difference is visibility, not productivity. Set clear expectations and deadlines, and capable workers will get it done—whether at 6 AM or late afternoon. Hybrid or remote setups save hours of commuting, boosting well-being and efficiency. I’ve yet to see an effective employee with real responsibilities fail remotely. So, instead of mandating office time, let’s ask: How effective are your operations? How competent are your managers?

Private sector or development? Both build a better world. I often see young people anxious to break into development, disappointed when opportunities don’t come fast. But don’t sleep on the private sector—it’s just as vital. Economies, fueled by businesses, fund development through taxes and innovation. Digital progress? That’s private-sector tech at work—tools we in development rely on daily. I started in business myself, and that experience keeps me practical: blending product-building savvy with a development focus on human rights and impact creates real perspective. Neither sector’s superior—private companies drive resources and solutions, while development tackles global challenges. Both need each other. So, if you’re eyeing development but starting elsewhere, embrace it. You’re still contributing to the same goal: a better, safer world.

Last week, I completed Harvard’s Cybersecurity: The Intersection of Policy and Technology program—an eye-opening dive into the field’s complexity. Three takeaways stand out: First, cybersecurity demands an interdisciplinary lens—blending tech, policy, and even economics to tackle issues like misinformation, where my comms background meets digital security. Second, open dialogue and skepticism are vital; the course thrived on diverse perspectives, not dogma, reminding me why academia’s critical edge matters. Third, economics must guide decisions—sanctions or infrastructure fixes sound good until you weigh trade-offs and feasibility. From hardware to human behavior, the program showed how interconnected these challenges are. It’s a must for anyone in the space, proving we’re all after the same basics: a better, safer world.

Evgeny Morozov’s ‘The AI We Deserve’ sparked a rethink on AI design. He pits goal-driven, problem-solving AI against a freer, exploratory kind—think kids playing with no clear aim. But isn’t that play a process with outcomes, like skill-building? Even adults find breakthroughs in ‘idle’ moments—walking or washing dishes—where the brain quietly churns out ideas. I’d argue the real flaw isn’t goals or problem-solving; it’s narrow definitions. Goals don’t have to mean efficiency—reading for joy isn’t ‘solving’ anything. The ‘efficiency lobby’ gets flak for stifling creativity, but spotting the right problems to tackle is creative too. For me, AI should chase broader goals, not just fixes, blending discovery with purpose. It’s less about ditching goals and more about reimagining them to unlock ingenuity.

A LinkedIn post claiming junior developers might soon be replaced by AI got me thinking: chatbots already feel like interns—quick with research or drafts, but prone to rookie errors. If AI takes over these tasks, where does that leave the next generation of experts? Mastery needs those tedious hours. Yet, are those tasks still essential—or are we just nostalgic, like pining for kids’ unstructured playtime of decades past? Change is here; resisting it won’t help. Instead, let’s adapt: equip juniors to harness AI, not fear it, using it to boost their work and learn faster. Research once meant library marathons—now it’s instant. That’s progress, not loss, if we stay sharp on oversight. The trick isn’t preserving old ways—it’s reimagining how juniors grow in an AI-driven world.

Job hunting in international development? Here’s what I’ve learned from my UN journey. Roles split into G-level (admin, stable but capped), P-level (professional, mobile), consultancies (flexible, variable benefits), and internships (tough but a foot in the door). Check careers.un.org, agency sites like UNDP’s, and aggregates like unjobs.org—but stick to official channels. Required quals are non-negotiable; desirable ones can tip the scales. UN apps aren’t quick blurbs—detail your role (research? coordination?) and mirror the ad’s language. Typos? Avoidable with tools like Grammarly. Prep success stories for ‘tell me about a time…’ questions, and brace for patience—offers can take months, even a year. It’s not the only path, but my UNDP ride’s been worth it. Hope this helps you find yours.

At a recent digital transformation meeting, the focus was on boosting digital literacy as the bedrock for e-governance. I get it—skills matter—but I’d argue good UX design trumps waiting for everyone to catch up. Watching my mom and her friends master iPhones (not Androids) or breeze through clear e-government portals, I’ve seen intuitive interfaces work magic. Chatbots help too, but only with smart design—fast, simple, accessible, and tied into the bigger digital flow. Poor UX? Frustration city. For stragglers, hybrid solutions like physical centers with digital perks (think online bookings or e-tickets) bridge the gap. E-governance doesn’t need universal literacy first—it needs officials who craft secure, user-friendly systems. Build it right, and people adapt as they go. Delaying for literacy just stalls progress.

Yesterday’s 'Child Protection and Safety in the Digital Age' event sparked a realization: parents can’t be sidelined in kids’ online safety. Amid calls for platform accountability, a warning about 'technologizing' everything—swapping real connections for digital ones—hit home. Kids need in-person experiences, not just virtual substitutes. But why are parents cast as passive, needing education, when we’d never let a 12-year-old drive or leave a toddler alone? Yet, we hand six-year-olds phones, expecting platforms to babysit. Parental controls exist, but shouldn’t we own this more—balancing privacy with protection? Trust matters, but maturity lags behind knowledge online, just like with crossing streets. Digital literacy gaps and weak rules don’t excuse us. Parents aren’t optional educators—they’re guardians. Online safety starts with us, not just regulators.