If you’ve never experienced Norway on May 17th, it can be difficult to explain.
An entire country effectively shuts down — not for protest, not for crisis, but for celebration. Streets fill with children, marching bands and flags. People wear traditional clothing worth more than a used car. Champagne is opened before noon. And somehow, it all revolves around the children.
It is loud, chaotic, joyful — and deeply organized at the same time.
On Norway’s Constitution Day, we let the children run free.
Traditional bunad shirts are quickly stained with ice cream, ketchup, mascara, and everything else that threatens both fabric and dignity at once. Overpriced helium balloons slip from small hands and begin their annual journey toward the sky — often not much further than the nearest tree — while flags, families and mountains remind us that this is something we do together, across the entire country.
From north to south.
It is a day for community and laughter. For reconnecting with people we rarely have time to see. For marching bands, celebration, and for perhaps the least serious day of the year. And for a moment, at least, the rest of the world fades into the background.
But in the middle of it all, there is something worth pausing for.
Because this day is not only about history.
It is about continuity.
More than a constitution
Norway’s Constitution was signed at Eidsvoll in 1814. It is one of the oldest still in use.
But May 17th is not a military parade or a display of power. It is a civilian celebration — built around participation rather than authority.
That matters.
Because what is being celebrated is not just independence, but self-determination.
From human dignity to digital systems
Henrik Wergeland was only six years old when the Constitution was written. He was not one of its authors — but he became one of its most important defenders.
In 1845, during the struggle to repeal a constitutional clause that denied Jews access to the country, he wrote:
“The victory of human dignity over prejudice is the victory of freedom.”
This was not symbolic language.
It was a political position about who gets to belong — and what a society is willing to defend.
That question has not disappeared.
It has evolved.
Control is moving — quietly
Today, the debate is no longer about physical borders.
It is about systems.
Control over critical parts of society is gradually shifting — from energy infrastructure and supply chains to data, platforms and digital dependencies.
And now, we are starting to talk about it.
Public discourse has shifted. Questions about ownership, control and sovereignty are no longer abstract. They are visible — in everything from electricity prices to data centers and subsea cables.
Self-determination is no longer just a historical concept.
It is a current one.
In a European context, this question is becoming increasingly relevant.
Across the continent, there is a growing focus on digital sovereignty — on who owns infrastructure, where data is stored, and which legal frameworks apply. These are no longer abstract policy discussions. They shape real decisions made by companies, governments and individuals every day.
What is being debated in Norway is not unique.
It is part of a broader shift.
The modern questions
Who owns the infrastructure we depend on?
Who controls our data?
And who sets the rules — us, or actors we cannot see, choose or influence?
Because self-determination is not just about borders and flags.
It is about decision-making power.
And in a world where technology shapes everything from healthcare and energy systems to communication and governance, that question becomes unavoidable.
In practical terms, this is no longer just about principles.
It affects where systems are built, which providers are trusted, and how data is handled across borders. Decisions about cloud platforms, encryption and infrastructure are increasingly tied to questions of control and accountability.
Technology is no longer neutral in this context.
It defines who holds power.
If they were here today
Camilla Collett might have asked why exclusion still exists — not through visible barriers, but through invisible datasets and automated decisions.
She was one of the first to describe how systems can quietly limit individuals. It is difficult to imagine she would have ignored digital exclusion.
And Arne Garborg, who was often critical of developments that moved too quickly for ordinary people, might have asked the most fundamental question of all:
Who is this really being built for?
Closing
Norway’s Constitution Day is often described as a celebration of history.
But it is equally a reflection of values.
Not just of what was written in 1814, but of what is still being shaped today.
From Eidsvoll to data centers.
From human dignity to digital infrastructure.
The question remains the same.
Who decides?
Happy Constitution Day 🇳🇴