Leaving the Cradle: Trading Nordic Comfort for Mediterranean Chaos
By Michail Katkoff, who’s on the move again, because sometimes the best way to level up is to reset the map entirely.
It’s a strange thing, leaving a place that has taken such good care of you. Where the trains run on time, the government trusts you with your own taxes, and if you’re lucky enough to own a dog, you get more parental support than most Americans get for raising a child.
After nearly a decade in the Nordics, both Phil Black and I are packing up our families and heading south. I’m moving to Greece. Phil’s heading to Cyprus. Two countries whose GDPs might be smaller than the Stockholm housing market, but whose sunlit chaos feels like exactly what we need right now.
This wasn’t planned. Not together, at least. But somehow, almost coincidentally, we both arrived at this decision within weeks of each other. Two consultants, two immigrants who spent their thirties navigating the beautifully engineered womb of Scandinavia and decided, at the same time, that we needed to leave it.
Here’s why.
The Nordic Spell
If you’ve ever lived in Sweden or Finland, you know what I mean when I say the place cradles you.
You arrive, and within months you’re lulled into a rhythm of modesty and state-engineered efficiency. There’s no chaos. No unnecessary risk. No moral panic. Just quiet systems working in harmony. From tax filings by text message to maternity leaves that stretch longer than most Series A runways, the Nordic societies are designed for people. And that’s awesome!
But there’s a cost to all this order. You stop dreaming a little. You stop running hard. You get comfortable. Things start to feel like they are on autopilot.
Phil called it the “great conservative PSYOP,” and he’s not wrong. These countries may be bastions of social democracy, but underneath the IKEA exterior lies the pursuit of sameness, stability, and humility so deep it borders on spiritual. In the Nordics, ambition is tolerated, but only if it doesn’t rise too far above the collectively agreed ceiling.
And after a while, it can get to you. The cold climate and the 9 sunless months test your stamina. The silence that you once saw as peace starts to feel more like loneliness. And above all, there’s the slow erosion of hunger. The government takes over half of your earnings as a price for the caring embrace.
The result is you stop sprinting. You start nesting. And it’s all beautiful, until it’s not.
Crave for Motion
I realized that both Phil and I are restless people. We’re students of game economies, veterans of product orgs, and now both run our own consultancies. We spend our days advising teams on how to build systems of progression, retention, and reward.
And maybe that’s the irony. After a while, we realized we were no longer leveling up ourselves.
Phil described it well: “We weren’t progressing.” Not in career, not in mindset, not even in lifestyle. We were comfortable. Too comfortable.
So we opened spreadsheets. Ran models. Visited schools. Booked flights. And began imagining new lives with new inputs.
Why Cyprus and Greece?
To be clear, this isn’t just a weather thing, though well over 300 days of sun doesn’t hurt.
For Phil, Cyprus is a move with optionality. It’s a base for mobility and an entry point into the next stage of life. A place that offers both lifestyle and leverage, especially for a US-Swede with a spreadsheet habit and a consulting funnel to maintain. They don’t call it the Puerto Rico of Europe for nothing.
For me, Athens is an upgrade in family life. Schools with an international outlook. A culture that celebrates connection. The energy of a capital is on the rise. And frankly, a break from the low-key isolation of Nordic suburbia.
We’re not saying Greece or Cyprus are better than Finland or Sweden. They’re not. They’re just different. They offer a type of energy of friction that we feel ready for again. For how long? Time will tell.
What We’re Taking With Us
Leaving doesn’t mean forgetting.
We’re taking the Nordic reverence for simplicity and structure. The ability to build businesses that don’t chase headlines. The commitment to modesty over showmanship.
Phil, ever the game economist, even admits he’ll miss kanelbulle (think Cinnabon, but the kind of bun that says thank you instead of sorry.) And maybe some Donald Duck on the Dec 24. at 3pm. I’ll miss the discipline. The sense of public trust. A society where things always just work.
But we also share the belief that motion is better than stagnation.
Because at some point, to evolve, you need to put yourself back into the simulation. Reset the environment. See how you adapt, especially when you’ve been optimizing the same system for too long.
Philosophical Musing
There’s a quote from Christopher McCandless: “The very basic core of a man’s living spirit is his passion for adventure.”
Maybe that’s what this is for me. A final adventure before the next chapter. Before my girls grow up, before we settle down (again), before ambition calcifies into routine. It’s not the first time myself or Phil are changing countries.
I do want everyone to remember that underneath the commentary about Sweden and Finland lies profound appreciation for these beautiful countries. They accept immigrants like Phil and refugees like myself. Finland in particular has provided more to my family than we could ever hope for. And for that, I will be eternally grateful, and proud to call myself a Finnish.
Most importantly, this is goodbye. Not a farewell. I’ll be back. Till then, see you in the Med!
Mishka
