Johan has been my best friend since 2008. We lived together in Stockholm for four years. He knows all my changes, all my iterations. What I love about him is that he sees clearly, asks good questions, and doesn't let me hide behind frameworks when the truth is simpler. We've talked about work, life, and purpose so much that it feels like we've actually worked together, even though we haven't. That's the quality of our friendship.
Purpose as contribution, not ambition
He works as climate impact lead at Stegra, a Swedish green steel company building a green iron and hydrogen plant in northern Sweden. The facility will double Sweden's steel production capacity when it completes next year, and produce steel that radically reduces the carbon footprint of steel by about 90%. He chose the job not for maximum salary but because he believes the work matters deeply. Steel is one of the world's most carbon-intensive industries. Someone has to solve that. His purpose is straightforward: contribute to something bigger than himself using the capabilities he has. When I asked if he knew his dharma, he said no. Then he described it perfectly in ten seconds. It took me nine months and a camper van to land in the same place.
The systems thinker
Johan sees how things connect. He spent years in management consulting and worked extensively in sustainability within oil and gas, learning business modeling, certifications, and policy work. Now at Stegra, he sits at the intersection of commercial development, policy, and complex global deals. He describes himself using a framework I gave him... he calls himself a builder type. Not the visionary dreamer, not the operator scaling what's already built, but the person in the middle who can join dots across different domains. He loves it because the work is exploratory and developmental, not formulaic. He gets to stay curious. The startup needs financing, which brings pressure. But when the work itself keeps him at an eight out of ten on living his purpose, the pressure becomes something to work through, not something that breaks him.
What might come next
He suggested I become a senior advisor to leadership teams. Not a coach. Not a consultant. A senior advisor. Someone who can see if strategy is realistic given market conditions and capabilities, who can spot gaps in execution and facilitate the process of fixing them, who can assess organizational health and team dynamics. He knew someone named Mika who's built a niche consultancy around exactly that work, taking on only long-term commitment projects where real transformation is possible. No short quarter-length engagements. Two to three years minimum, or you're not serious about change. When he said that, I felt it land. It spoke to something true in me.