TV and radio never went away, but I would argue that the “For you” algorithms of TikTok et al. have taken the spotlight. Don’t get me wrong: I love getting served a uniquely curated feed as much as the next second-hand thinker, but let’s take a moment to discuss one of the greatest gifts of TV and radio broadcasts: SHARED KNOWLEDGE.

Shared knowledge is a fundamental ingredient in forming relationships and communities, and something that TV and radio broadcasts help build. Cities like Malmö can only curate and broadcast so many TV channels, giving us all the time to familiarize ourselves with the same limited set of options. Even though the content is fleeting, the channels are constant. No matter what they choose to air, TV4 and SVT are not going anywhere.

This brings me to how I fundamentally view TV and radio broadcasts more as places than just content—and when my dad asks ”Did you see the game last night?” it’s not really different from asking ”Were you there last night?” The couch? The stadium? Whatever. The point is that the same thing happened in front of us both at the same time…

It was a TikTok-ridden September morning when the cold crept in. ”Not yet,” I told my roommate (my dad) when he asked if I was running late. The blanket was my sacred shelter, but I’d given my hand to the elements—if only to scroll a little to keep my eyes jogging.

It was only at Lexi’s unashamed barking some two hours later that I got dressed—if only to avoid being caught half-naked in the doorway as I pulled on that biting metal handle—to let her out. She decided promptly that she had changed her mind. I towered over her and she threw guilty glances to the side (as she does) and offered her paw and pleading eyes in hopes of my immediate forgiveness.

Then the meds, bags, headphones, and a Spotify-generated playlist extrapolated from “There’s a Fool Born Every Minute” by Skeeter Davis. My bike seat was covered in a layer of wet that wiped dry in one swipe. I realised then—dancy and dreamy music in my ears—that all the cold, the wet, the light—it was all just enough to sting and prick for my attention, but it never swept my means of comfort out of reach. It was as if the season gently begged…