Christos Floros

Category: Luxembourg

  • Compete Now or Forever Hold Your Peace

    Compete Now or Forever Hold Your Peace

    Before 9 AM today, I’d already had two meetings.

    The pace is intense, but that’s what makes being involved in new ventures so exciting.

    Every conversation opens a door—new ideas, new challenges, and a constant test of how quickly I can absorb, adapt, and apply.

    Since announcing Project Monnet, the messages haven’t stopped. People from across industries reaching out, offering insights, asking the right questions, challenging my thinking. I still have a list of people I need to reach out to.

    First call was key developments and messaging strategy for Deelan, a project Panos Meidanis is leading to redefine training platforms, that I’m incredibly excited to be involved in.

    Two completely different worlds—one about the future of digital public spaces, the other about the future of learning—but the same lesson applies: the steepest learning curves are where the real energy is.

    In the second call, Brian and I talked today about how social media doesn’t just connect people—it shapes them. How easily influenced 17-24 year-olds are running around supporting new oligarchs. How platforms don’t just reflect culture, they create it. What decentralised hosting really would mean for a platform like Monnet, how decisions now will impact the way it scales, how it’s governed, and who truly owns the conversation.

    This is the beauty of being in the middle of something new.

    You start by trying to solve a problem, and along the way, you realise the real challenge is learning to be hyper-focused—knowing what matters, what doesn’t, and to bring in people who are stronger where you are not.

    There’s a temptation in any venture to try to do everything. To be everywhere.

    But that’s not how things get built.

    The best founders don’t micromanage every detail—they surround themselves with the right people, the ones who can take a vision and execute it better than they ever could alone.

    On another, really meaningful note. Sven Clement recently asked me: Imagine you succeed. What happens if, in five years, Meta wants to buy you out?

    It’s a good question.

    One I don’t have a perfect answer to yet.

    But what I do know is that real alternatives can still be built. That despite Peter Thiel’s fixation on monopolies, competition isn’t dead. That Apple wasn’t first, IBM didn’t stay dominant, and history is full of moments where something new disrupted what looked untouchable.

    And history is shifting again.

    The U.S. is locking in its digital dominance. A $500 billion AI investment will attempt to cement its control over the next era of technology. Trump is openly pushing to make Canada a state, reinforcing the fact that this is no longer just about trade or defense alliances—it’s about control.

    About consolidating influence, about deciding who owns the future.

    So where does that leave Europe?

    Still debating whether we need to compete.

    Still relying on platforms that don’t reflect our interests.

    Still waiting.

    But we don’t have time to wait.

    The future of democracy is linked to digital sovereignty.

    Right now, I’m in the middle of that learning curve—balancing multiple projects, solving different problems, staying focused while embracing what I don’t yet know. It’s challenging. It’s chaotic. It’s exactly where I want to be.

    On to the next call. For Hootsuite, the regular work day begins, we’re building the future of social media performance. The entire #Oneteam is working on solving the biggest marketing and ROI question since the invention of social media. Perhaps even media itself.

    2025, accelerating fast.

  • Gaza cease-fire comment

    Gaza cease-fire comment

    The announcement of a ceasefire between Israel and Hamas is welcome news. After 15 months of devastating violence, the prospect of hostages being freed, significant aid finally reaching Gaza, and a pause to hostilities feels like a step in the right direction. But this isn’t peace—it’s a pause. And what happens next is far from certain.

    The deal, as it stands, is straightforward but fragile. In the first stage, women, children, and elderly hostages held by Hamas will be released in exchange for hundreds of Palestinian prisoners held by Israel. Displaced Palestinians in Gaza will begin returning to their homes—what’s left of them—and Israeli troops will withdraw from populated areas. Humanitarian aid will also increase, with hundreds of trucks expected to cross into Gaza daily.

    Negotiations for what comes next will start soon, but there’s no guarantee they’ll succeed. Both sides harbor deep distrust, and even as the agreement was announced, airstrikes and rocket attacks continued. The violence hasn’t stopped yet, and there’s a real chance it could flare up again.

    This war has been brutal. Thousands of lives have been lost, entire neighborhoods destroyed, and families ripped apart. Even with a ceasefire, the people in Gaza face a long road ahead. Homes will need rebuilding, supplies are critically low, and the emotional toll is beyond measure.

    The same is true for the families of hostages in Israel, who have spent weeks not knowing if their loved ones are alive. For them, the deal offers some answers, but not all. And for the families who don’t get the news they had hoped for, this ceasefire won’t feel like relief—it will feel like another loss.

    The agreement shows that both sides are willing to talk, at least for now, but six weeks isn’t a long time. If these talks fail, the fighting will start again, and everything gained could be lost.

    It’s hard to be hopeful after so much suffering, but it’s also hard to ignore that this deal, however small, is something. A pause. A chance, even if it’s slim, to build on.

    For now, all we can do is wait and watch.

  • Syria: Caution Before Celebration

    Syria: Caution Before Celebration

    Syria has been liberated. That’s the headline.

    It’s a sentence that carries so much weight. For some, it’s a moment of hope.

    For others, it’s the beginning of worry.

    It’s easy to jump to conclusions when power shifts hands. But if there’s one thing the last decade should have taught us, it’s this: the fall of a regime is not the same as the rise of peace.

    I remember the early debates about Syria. The case for intervention. The case against it. Back then, every side claimed moral high ground. Some said intervention would protect civilians. Others warned it would only lead to more destruction. Looking back, it’s hard to say anyone was completely right. What we do know is that ordinary Syrians paid the price.

    This time, the situation feels eerily familiar. Assad is gone. Rebel forces have taken control. Images of freed prisoners fill social media feeds. Some of them spent years in dungeons like Saydnaya — a place so horrific it was called a “human slaughterhouse.”

    For them, this moment is freedom. For their families, it’s justice.

    But I’m holding back on total celebration. Not because I doubt the value of toppling a dictator, but because I know what happens next is just as important as what happened before.

    When power shifts in the Middle East, the story rarely ends there. Leaders fall. New factions rise. Promises of “liberation” are made. And yet, too often, the people remain trapped in a cycle of violence and uncertainty.

    We’ve seen this before. Libya. Iraq. Afghanistan. We cheer for the end of one era, only to watch another one begin—just as bloody, just as brutal.

    The question on my mind isn’t, “Is Assad gone?” It’s, “What comes next?”

    The West will face a choice soon. To recognize the new leaders or to isolate them. To engage or to retreat. If history is any guide, we won’t get this decision right unless we start thinking beyond the immediate.

    If we cheer too soon, if we look away too quickly, we risk letting history repeat itself.

    Hope isn’t a strategy.

    This time, let’s not mistake liberation for the end of struggle.

    This time, let’s be prudent. Let’s be vigilant.

    For Syria, and the whole middle east.

  • Our Dream of Europe

    Our Dream of Europe

    Do you like my shirt in this video? I think I have about 50 shirts, if not more.

    That’s a lot of shirts. Winter shirts, summer shirts, office shirts.

    If it helps, I’ve owned many of them for more than 10 years and I still wear them.

    But this isn’t a newsletter about fast fashion. It’s about Europe.

    My grandmother owned two skirts. In her entire life, she owned two skirts. She keeps reminding me of this.

    She bought a dress once, just once. Then, she cut it in half to make two skirts. When my father was young, she worked in the small shop my grandparents ran, keeping my father in a little bucket beside her as she worked.

    My mother grew up in a house without running water. No hot water. They carried water into the house and warmed it on the stove.

    That wasn’t 100 years ago. That was 50 years ago. In Europe. In the West. In our European Union.

    Too many of us have forgotten—or never lived—what true hardship feels like. Not just individual poverty, but poverty on a collective, systemic scale.

    We have taken our collective progress for granted. And now, many of us are complicit in dismantling it.

    Populist politicians, who don’t understand the complexity and value of our collective progress, are hastening our decline. And we, in our ignorance, too often support them.

    At the same time, establishment politicians cling to power, even here in Luxembourg. They’re not creating the space for a new generation to lead, to build on what we’ve achieved, and to take us forward.

    A Fragile Foundation

    Let’s not forget what made our progress possible. The European Union was built from the ashes of two world wars. It’s a dream rooted in peace, collective security, and economic cooperation.

    These, our, achievements require constant maintenance.

    Today, political apathy and polarisation threaten the foundation of these achievements.

    Our Engagement Today?

    In Luxembourg, only one in ten eligible (non-citizen) voters participates in local elections.

    This apathy isn’t unique to Luxembourg.

    Meanwhile, those who do engage are often driven by frustration or fear, creating an echo chamber of extremes.

    We see this in the rise of populist movements that capitalize on dissatisfaction but fail to deliver real solutions.

    If we’re to reverse this trend, we need action at both the individual and systemic levels:

    1. Individuals: Join civic organisations, volunteer, or simply vote. Show up where it’s hard to make a difference.
    2. Systems: Politicians must ensure their actions are accountable—not just to today’s voters but to future generations. Policies must align with long-term goals, from combating climate change to ensuring equitable economic growth.

    The Dream of Europe

    I am inspired by the resilience of Ukrainians fighting for their democracy and their commitment to a European future.

    I am moved by the Georgian people, marching for the hope of Europe.

    Their courage reminds us what’s at stake—and what we have to lose if we take Europe for granted.

    It’s not rocket science.

    It’s far more complicated.

    But that’s why we need to start.

    Our dream of Europe rests on each and every one of you.

    Only together, and with massive effort, we can sustain it and build a brighter, fairer future for all.

  • How to address Political Participation in Luxembourg

    How to address Political Participation in Luxembourg

    One of our biggest challenges in Luxembourg is political participation.

    When we consider the future of our country, we have to ask: Are we all in?

    Because the truth is, the challenges we face need everyone’s input.

    We need your voice, your ideas, your energy.

    Here’s what we’ve got:

    • Only about 10% of non-citizens vote.
    • Nearly half of our residents are non-citizens.

    As of 2023, about 47% of Luxembourg’s population are foreign nationals.

    Back in 2000, it was around 37%.

    Here’s the question:

    • How do we make everyone feel they have a stake in our future?

    In 2015, we had a referendum that could have extended voting rights to foreign residents who’ve lived here for over 10 years.

    We lost that opportunity.

    So now, we need to continue finding and building alternative ways to understand how people want us to lead, and towards where.

    It’s not just about voting (although that’s a great start, so register to vote for the next ones, it takes 2 minutes).

    It’s about participation at every level.

    It’s about caring for our commons—our shared spaces, our communities, our environment.

    We need to find ways to include more people, to convince them that their voice matters.

    Because it does.

    If we want to tackle the big issues—whether it’s housing, climate change, or economic development—we need everyone on board.

    So here’s my call to action:

    Join the dialogue, where it is.

    Join political platforms, parties, debates (online or offline – even better)

    Whether you’re a lifelong Luxembourger or you’ve just moved here, your perspective is valuable. It helps us inform our decisions.

    We need to explore new ways to engage with all residents, to gather their feedback, their hopes, their ideas for our future.

    We can’t afford to have half of our population feel disconnected.

    Your thoughts?

    Christos Floros

  • 2050: What future will we work towards?

    2050: What future will we work towards?

    When we think about the world in 2050, what do we see?

    Is it a planet struggling under the weight of climate disasters and social inequalities?

    Or is it a world where humanity has finally learned to live in harmony with nature—a post-Anthropocene era where both people and the planet thrive?

    I know which future I want.

    But I get it—it’s tough to imagine a better future today. When we’re still engaged in some of the most primitive conflicts worldwide, envisioning a harmonious 2050 feels like a stretch. How can we focus on healing the planet when we’re still grappling with wars, inequality, and injustice?

    We have to.

    Because the alternative—the worst-case scenario—is unthinkable. If we don’t act now, we risk heading straight toward extinction. And we know that if everyone wants to live the lives we currently live in Luxembourg, as we currently produce energy, we would need 8 planets.

    So, what do we do?

    We need to continue our massive investment in renewable energy and the ecological transition that preserves our Blue Planet’s ecosystems —what I like to refer to as the “Blue Transition” (because I also want to prevent a so-called Greentocracy*).

    It’s about fundamentally rethinking how we live and work. And the private and public sectors will have to play their parts. (And it will be nearly impossible for the private sector, without support from the public sector).

    We need to allocate resources swiftly to rebuild local economies where it makes sense, reducing dependencies on fragile global supply chains and focus on economies that are sustainable, resilient, and rooted in their regions.

    The Post-Anthropocene Era

    Imagine it’s 2050, and we’ve made the hard choices.

    We’ve shifted from being exploiters of the planet to stewards of it. Society consumes resources at the rate they can be replenished. We’re not just minimizing harm; we’re actively regenerating the Earth’s systems.

    Global ecosystems are valued and protected. Biodiversity loss has halted, and we’re witnessing the recovery of forests, oceans, and wildlife. Circular economies are the norm, with waste becoming a thing of the past because everything is seen as a resource.

    Education has become a lifelong pursuit, focusing on environmental stewardship and global citizenship. People are empowered with knowledge thanks to AI, fueling innovation and cooperation on an unprecedented scale.

    So how do we get there? Because the alternative is dire.

    If we continue on our current path—ignoring the signs and failing to act—we’re not just risking a decline in quality of life; AGAIN, we’re facing potential extinction.

    We must prevent this worst-case scenario. We owe it to ourselves and future generations to act decisively.

    1) Our oceans, forests, and atmosphere all must have a voice on the world stage, and within our economic systems.

    2) Growth at the expense of the environment must no longer be acceptable, growth must be aligned with environmental protection.

    That’s how we get there.

    Of course this future isn’t going to build itself. It requires collective action. Politically and democratically, we need to choose leaders who are committed to this vision balancing our anthropocentric view and use of our world, with our need to sustain social cohesion and protect the environment.

    What future will we work towards?

    Christos Floros

    These thoughts follow last week’s United Nations General Assembly in New York. Much of the thinking and scenarios are based on Arup‘s monumental work on 2050 scenarios published in 2019. A lot of this work and research heavily influenced me during my time at architecture school.

    *The four scenarios as suggested by ARUP’s Research.