The Year 2025, When the Patterns Became Impossible to Ignore

NEWS COLUMN • After a year of investigations, reports, and journalistic digging for Samnytt, it has become impossible to view developments as a series of isolated events. Whether it’s about aid, government agencies, feminism, wind power, Islamism, security, climate policy, public service, police, or the justice system, the same patterns have emerged again and again. The topics differ—the structures do not. In this column, I summarize both what I’ve seen during the year and the background I bring into this work. Not to make myself the main character, but to explain why some connections have become impossible to ignore—and why, for more and more people, it has become harder to keep turning a blind eye to the consequences of the politics that have shaped today’s Sweden.

I look back on the past year with a mix of frustration and sorrow, but also with unexpected joy and tentative hopefulness. After a whole professional life marked by imagery, text, communication, and analysis, I’ve finally ended up where I truly always belonged—within the word. I have been writing all my life, but image creation became my profession. Still, language has always been the foundation of how I think, analyze, and understand the world.

My path into the art and design world went through environments where independence, judgment, and craft were still highly valued—education in London and Maastricht that trained responsibility and intellectual integrity rather than obedience.

With that background, I later ended up in the Swedish academic world, among other things as a lecturer at Konstfack. On paper, it’s a place for creativity; in practice, often a melting pot of ideological conformity, Western and male hatred, and a notable suspicion towards dissenting perspectives. From a creative and personal perspective, that period is best described as a nightmare.

What followed is now almost an occupational hazard: to be gradually ostracized—what we now call cancel culture. First from academia, then from the design and advertising industry, which is becoming less about professionalism and more about leftist activism.

This year cannot be summed up in a single word. It’s not a crisis, not an awakening, not a collapse. It’s something much more serious and drawn-out than that—a society that has slowly lost its common language, where more and more questions have become forbidden to ask, and where reality must therefore be described apart from the official discourse.

Jonas Andersson

This is how the left acts against dissenters today, at all levels—silence, ostracize, purge—if they haven’t already managed to smear, cast suspicion, and destroy reputations. At the same time, the left today has a near-total dominant influence over traditional media, large parts of government agencies, universities, and most influential institutions.

To stand up for democracy, freedom of expression, and individual rights in such a climate is not comfortable. It is often costly. Believe me, I know. But we persist. We who still believe in democracy, freedom of speech—and that Sweden is a country worth preserving.

Here follows a summary of what I consider to be some of the most important subjects I have investigated in 2025.

When “Goodness” Became a Shield Against Scrutiny

The year began in the world of foreign aid—an area long surrounded by a kind of moral immunity. For decades, Sida has been an expression of the Swedish self-image: generous, responsible, international. But when suspicions of corruption, lack of oversight, and internal protection mechanisms pile up, it becomes impossible to ignore the question of what is really being protected.

The similarities with USAID were striking. Not because the systems are identical, but because the logic is the same—when money, ideology, and prestige become intertwined, it creates an environment where transparency becomes a threat. Where criticism is not answered objectively, but morally.

Where the question is no longer whether aid works, but whether one is even allowed to ask questions within an agency. I will return with stories from within the Migration Agency soon. Be prepared to fall off your chair while reading.

This recurred again and again during the year. In energy policy, where politicians are trained by the wind power industry’s own PR actors. In the so-called green transition, perhaps the greatest scam of our time, where projects like Stegra have been presented as solutions to the future, even as economists warn of distortion, waste, and long-term costs. “The climate” became not just an alleged environmental issue, but a European industrial catastrophe.

At the same time, it was no longer possible to ignore how safety has been undermined. When Swedes begin leaving the country—not for work, not for adventure, but to protect their families—then something fundamental has changed. My articles about Åland were not about romance but about a pragmatic choice: to live in a society where violence is not normalized.

Jonas Andersson

The same development was evident in how state agencies increasingly take on an ideological character. The Equality Authority became an example—not because equality is unimportant, but because the entire institution seemed to shrink to one perspective, one language, one feminist preconception. When almost all employees share the same background and ideological starting point, friction disappears—and with it the chance for self-correction.

It became clear that many authorities no longer primarily function as administrators of collective decisions, but as players in a culture war. They don’t just produce reports, but norms. And they work against the will of the people.

When Symbols Became More Important Than Reality

This became most apparent in the summer, in how Pride came to function in public life. Not as just another event, but as a moral left-wing marker. From school graduations where rainbow flags replaced traditional symbols, to situations where children were met by sexualized messages that adults no longer seemed to reflect upon.

This wasn’t about people celebrating or expressing themselves—but about how certain symbols have become untouchable. Pride appeared less and less as an expression of individual freedom, and more as a collective loyalty test. Participation was neutral. Abstaining required explanation. Questioning was suspicious.

This reflects something larger—how leftist ideology today is often presented as self-evident morality, thereby evading scrutiny.

At the same time, it was no longer possible to ignore how safety has been undermined. When Swedes begin leaving the country—not for work, not for adventure, but to protect their families—then something fundamental has changed. My articles about Åland were not about romance but about a pragmatic choice: to live in a society where violence is not normalized.

800 bombings is no longer a shocking number, but has become background noise. That itself is a sign of a shift. What would previously have triggered a crisis label is now handled with press releases.

When the Rule of Law and Journalism Became Selective

The issue of Islam ran like a red thread through the year. Not in theoretical terms, but in concrete manifestations—mosque constructions without transparency, politicians warning of ideological expansion, residents expressing concern but rarely heard.

The mega mosque in Skärholmen became an example of how large changes can occur quietly, while public debate gets stuck in symbolic squabbles. Similarly, reactions after the Sydney terror attack—where terrorists were praised in Arabic-language Swedish comment sections—showed how parallel value systems not only exist, but sometimes make themselves heard without encountering clear pushback.

And when a 100-year-old woman was raped by a man in home care, and responsible organizations refused to take a stand, it became impossible to separate politics, morality, and consequence. There were no abstractions left. Only a society unable to protect its most vulnerable—and that even lacked the language to admit it.

Jonas Andersson

As autumn progressed, legal issues became increasingly central. In sexual assault cases where evidentiary standards had shifted. In police testimony on how guilt is just assumed in practice. In accounts of young men convicted without technical evidence, but suffering severe consequences.

At the same time, climate activists who vandalized a painting at the National Museum were acquitted—because intent was considered lacking. It was hard to avoid the impression that the law is no longer applied equally, but is filtered through the moral lens of the times. Some acts are excused as expressions of commitment. Others are deemed unforgivable.

The rule of law appeared less and less like an anchor—and more and more like a moving target.

Meanwhile, distrust of the media grew. Not because journalism is unimportant, but because it has become selective. When some crimes are barely reported, when some victims do not fit the narrative, a gap opens up between reality and the public sphere. That gap is not filled with analysis, but with anger. And now with new, independent media where Samnytt plays a leading role.

The anger is not irrational. It arises when people realize that their experiences are not recognized, not taken seriously, not even mentioned.

When Everything Finally Became Concrete

Towards the end of the year, all this became personal. Not in a symbolic sense, but literally. Elderly care. A mother. Bodies no longer able to bear the consequences of systems built for something other than care.

And when a 100-year-old woman was raped by a man in home care, and responsible organizations refused to take a stand, it became impossible to separate politics, morality, and consequence. There were no abstractions left. Only a society unable to protect its most vulnerable—and that even lacked the language to admit it.

This year cannot be summed up in a single word. It’s not a crisis, not an awakening, not a collapse. It’s something much more serious and drawn-out than that—a society that has slowly lost its common language, where more and more questions have become forbidden to ask, and where reality must therefore be described apart from the official discourse. But rest assured:

Samnytt and I will continue to describe, explain, and dig into that no-go zone of reality that politicians and traditional media have created.

Happy New Year 2026!