The Cloudberry Theory of Capacity Sharing

4.2.2026
We are delighted to publish the keynote speech delivered at the Arctic Frontiers Conference in February 2026 in Tromsø, Norway, as part of the CAP-SHARE project session Intergenerational Capacity Sharing: The Connection Between Nature and Youth

Keynote: The Cloudberry Theory of Capacity Sharing

Hans Ravna-Pieski Sámi Youth Council, Sámi Parliament, Finland


the cloudberry theory of capacity sharing

I like cloudberries. Yeah, those orange ones. I mean that first one of the season, freshly picked... oh yeah.

However, if one is to store these berries for the cold, long winter, I think you need a secret ingredient. So let me start this off, by dropping some real certified Indigenous knowledge on you, right here, right now... You gotta add some sugar, man.

And, okay, many may already know this, but maybe the secret is actually not so much in the ingredient, but the quantity. You don’t just add a little bit. You add… You add it like this:

The cloudberry season is only once a year. And so is this conference. And to get the most out of this event, I think there are some secret ingredients and quantities involved here, too.

My name is Hans Ravna-Pieski. I’m from the river valleys of the far North in Finland, from a small village called Ohcejohka, which lies by the river Deatnu.

I’m also from The Sámi Youth Council in Finland and I have a background in journalism at Yle Sápmi. Currently, I’m studying Information Technology at Tampere University and I’m specializing in AI and language technology.

So I spend my days teaching machines human language. But in my experience, the hardest work isn't getting the machines to understand us, it's getting us to understand us. And that requires more than just presence. Because being here today is not just about sitting in a room at Saga Hotel.

Many of you have made a great journey to join us today, though. I would assume most of you woke up pretty early, too. That’s effort, and it shows that you care. And seeing all this effort here today... amusingly, it reminds me of going out to pick cloudberries.

There are some differences, though. We all knew the exact date for this event a long time in advance. But you don’t know exactly when the cloudberry season begins.

I mean, obviously, one could use all their Indigenous knowledge and know-how and think "Oh, the snow melted pretty early this year... the summer has been quite hot... and there were so-and-so many mosquitoes..." And then you just get a feeling. Hmm, yeah. The berries could be ripe in that place right now.

And so you decide: Tomorrow I will wake up early, and I will go there. Like how all of you came here today.

And so, you put your boots on, your backpack, and you grab your bucket. You start walking. You leave the road and step onto the springing moss. You trudge through the wetlands where the ground tries to suck the boots right off your feet, šchlop šchlop šchlop.

Eventually, you get to your super-secret spot... but no. No berries. So you think: "Hmm, okay, well, there’s this other place nearby."

You walk there. Now the sweat is running down your back. The mosquitoes have found you, they are buzzing in your ears, biting your neck. It’s not fun. And some people have this theory about the Sámi, “Nooo, they don’t feel the mosquitoes…!” But you keep going.

You arrive at the… jeaggi – the swamp. But the berries aren’t ripe, or maybe they’re already too old. And you look here, and you look there... and nothing.

And you start looking down at your feet as you walk, and this is where you start questioning your own cultural identity. Am I even Sámi? I’ve miscalculated everything. I have lost the connection. My elders have abandoned me.

But just before you decide to abandon your whole culture, move south for the rest of your life, get a southern wife, never teach your kids to speak Sámi, and die an old, bitter, miserable man...

You see one shiny cloudberry. And then you see a few more.

You raise your head, and in front of you, the whole swamp is glowing. Like an amber blanket, there’s a sea of orange gold stretching out against the green moss.

And you are so happy. "Yes! I found them! I’m Sámi after all!"

I hope many of you are also happy to be here today. And let me assure you: You have come to the right swamp. However, to tell you the truth... coming here was the easy part. You still have all these berries to pick.

And here is the final thing about the cloudberry.

You know the berry is truly ripe... not when you need to forcefully pull it from its stem. But when you merely touch it, and it detaches effortlessly. It wants you to take it. It wants to be shared.

So, let’s make sure our ideas are prepared to do the same. Let's make our knowledge accessible, add a little sugar if we have to, and let's fill those buckets.

Thank you.