The lights are dimming on EU Sustainable Energy Week, but some conversations still ring in my ears.
This week wasn’t just about targets, policies, and new frameworks. It was about presence, about who feels welcome in the room, and about what it takes not just to be invited but to belong.
For some months, I’ve been wondering:
What if joy is the missing piece of the energy transition? What if the energy sector dared to feel more human, more alive, more connected?
And that was also around the idea behind DJ Energy: how do we change the beat? Not metaphorically, but literally. Anna Gumbau, Jonathan Bonadio, Thomas Nowak and all our guests stepped out of performance mode and into something more honest, more flawed, and more beautiful. We made space for joy, not as entertainment, but as a way to breathe, to connect, to belong. The kind of belonging that doesn’t need a badge or a microphone to be real.
In the same spirit, I released a very special Energ’ Ethic Podcast episode recorded in Florence with Ilaria Conti and Joana Simão Costa (watch us talk on the beautiful steps of Villa Schifanoia!). All this builds on themes I had already explored with Anna Gumbau Martínez in the first episode of She Owns the Stage, a conversation that has been out for a while now, but continues to resonate.
All this brings me to how hard -or easy!- it can be to belong. And, what does it mean to hold space for others, even when no one handed you the mic?
Belonging is political
This week, I joined three times really big stages. Yet, in my conversation with Anna a few weeks ago, we reflected on what it means to find your voice when the room wasn’t built for you. We talked about the fatigue of constantly justifying your presence, of having to perform “expertise” in the most conventional sense, and about the choice to remain visible anyway. Yet, I said: what would I have gained in being discreet?
Being vocal, being recognisable, being distinct, it isn’t vanity. It’s a response to absence. It’s a form of care, for those coming after you.
As I told Anna, “If I’m so visible and vocal about it, it’s because we need it.” Because far too many still feel the transition is happening behind closed doors. Or worse, in a language not meant for them.
“There can’t be a just transition if half of the population, at least, is not enrolled,” we said during the Florence recording. And that’s not just about gender. It’s about every form of difference that still feels like a deviation from the norm, race, age, background, disability, queerness, or simply coming from a different kind of expertise.
“If you don’t see anyone like you in the room, it’s because you’re building something new.”
That line has stayed with me. Because it’s true, and because it reframes the feeling of isolation as something with transformative potential.
This isn’t a sprint
In Brussels this week, I met people who were hopeful. Tired, but ready to connect. People who have been carrying this work for years, sometimes alone, often under-recognised. People who know the energy transition is a long road, with no guarantee of celebration at the end. And yet they continue. Because they care.
For many of us, this work is more than strategy. It’s ikigai, a reason for being that sits at the intersection of what we love, what the world needs, and what we’re able to offer. I often say I’m not a doer, I’m a thinker. But that thinking is not theoretical, it’s grounded in purpose. It’s sustained by a quiet, insistent belief that this transition could be different. That we could do better. That we must.
This is not a sprint. It’s not even a marathon. It’s a Marathon des Sables, long, gruelling, but necessary. We need to pace ourselves. To stop expecting impact to come from speed alone. We need to build systems that are generous enough to allow people to stay the course, and bring others with them. As we’ve also seen with Federico Barbieri and Carlotta Ferri , it’s never about finding your seat at the table. It’s about bringing more chairs, and maybe even bringing a new table.
And Joy is not decoration. It comes from alignment and belonging. It is stamina. And it is strategy.
We need better questions
Too often, the sector speaks in technical terms so abstract that it forgets the people it is meant to serve. But before we ask what people should do, we must pause and ask: What questions are people themselves asking?
Many of us feel the transition, despite all the frameworks and consultations, is still something happening elsewhere, decided by someone else. As I told Anna, “If we keep letting the narrative be shaped by those who oppose progress, we lose.” And we have lost too much ground already.
That’s why I was also so glad that one of the sessions I chaired was exactly about that: How can the highly expected Citizens Energy Package become a meaningful toolbox for real people, not just a policy checklist, but a lever for change? We need to dare to ask not only “how do we design cleaner systems?” but also “who gets to shape them? Who feels ownership over them?”
Who trusts them? Who trusts us? And where can the joy come in?
This is not a box-ticking exercise
Let’s stop pretending this is about diversity panels or gender balance in photos. That’s not the point.
This is about who gets to feel like the system was designed with them in mind. Who gets to speak plainly, without translating their story into someone else’s language. Who gets to lead without apology?
This is why we need diversity, equity, and inclusion. It’s not a painting you put on the wall. It’s the foundation. When you empower one, you empower millions.
It comes when we name the barriers. Call out the assumptions. And insist that the future we build starts with the people and reflects the full range of people who will live in it.
The transition needs all of us
If EUSEW showed anything this year, it’s that there’s a collective hunger to move differently. To move forward, yes, but with more intention. With more clarity. With more space for others to breathe.
And yes, joy matters. Laughter matters. Music matters. Not because they make things easier, but because they remind us that we are still here. Still building. Still together.
Both podcast episodes are now live, on your favourite platforms. They are different in tone, but they meet at the same place. The place where belonging becomes possible, not because the system welcomed us in, but because we insisted on showing up.
(And all the #EUSEW2025 recording are online too)
If you’ve ever questioned whether you had the right to be in the room, these conversations are for you.
You’re not alone. And you’re not off-topic. You’re the point.
