From the perspective of the old system, HGM is not a revolution. It’s a logical optimisation we simply haven’t dared to think through until now. For a long time, the underlying assumption has been roughly this: People perform best under pressure. Safety makes people complacent. Fear keeps the system moving. So we build control. We measure, monitor, reward, and punish. And we accept that “this is just how it works.” ...

For a long time, something didn’t make sense to me. We constantly hear about organisations that don’t treat their people well. No real involvement. No trust. No genuine human attention. And yet — they don’t collapse. That bothered me. Over time, the picture started to clear. These companies do function. But mostly in survival mode. They deliver. But they don’t unfold. They remain stable. But they’re not alive. The potential is there — it just never gets released. ...

There is a state many of us live in. Not loud. Not dramatic. More like a constant, background tension. The feeling that it’s not enough. Not enough money. Not enough security. Not enough time, energy, or reserves. And from this sense of scarcity, we learn how to function. We learn that everything must be handled alone, asking for help is weakness, if you slow down, you fall behind, if you don’t perform, there will be consequences. ...

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about how isolated we tend to become when we’re ill. Almost automatically, many of us fall into the belief: “This is my problem. I need to deal with it on my own.” But if we take a small step back, something else becomes visible. In reality, we are all part of communities — families, neighbourhoods, cities, countries, and ultimately a shared world. And every community is strongest when its members are well. ...

The more I work on the Human Growth Model (HGM), the clearer one thing becomes: Humour and play are not “extras” — they are the deepest, fastest, most human ways of learning. And yet, most organisations still hold on to an old belief: Work must be serious. Learning must be serious. Humour is risky. Play is unprofessional. But here’s the paradox. Play creates focus. Humour increases learning retention by 400–500%. Laughter reduces stress and opens the mind. ...

“Change doesn’t begin with the system, but with how we look at it.” There is a moment when something quietly shifts. When you realise that what you have been calling “the world” is not something distant. Not a separate system. Not “the economy”. Not “politics”. But something you are part of. Every decision, every moment of attention, every turning away or turning towards is gently woven into the living fabric we call the human world. ...