Autonomy

I have always rejected the market-driven orientation of society, as it presents a distorted model of how we relate to our environment and fellow human beings. This approach reduces humans to beings driven by competition, profit-seeking, and resource struggles—traits that barely distinguish us from the animal kingdom.

Yet, as humans, we possess the ability for far more complex information processing. Our potential to gain deeper insights into our existence, our planet, and social justice is undeniable. However, these possibilities are often obstructed by privileged groups determined to maintain their dominance and power.

For this reason, I consciously position myself outside this societal structure. What I can do, however, is continuously emphasize the importance of autonomy. To me, autonomy goes beyond individual freedom—it is the foundation for free, independent thinking and action. As artificial intelligence increasingly shapes our world, this ability becomes even more critical.

Autonomy protects us from becoming mere tools of technological systems. It urges us to ask critical questions, reflect on ourselves, and explore alternative paths. Without autonomy, we risk losing our creative and intellectual independence—qualities that define us as human beings and must be preserved to shape a livable future.

Autonomy Through Energy

One of the most important themes in my life has always been the pursuit of an independent energy source. Energy self-sufficiency meant more than freedom from centralized suppliers—it symbolized the ability to shape my life according to my own values and needs.

I was fortunate to own a small house, which allowed me to begin harnessing the power of the sun as early as the 1970s. My first step was installing a solar thermal system, a simple yet effective technology for using solar energy to heat water. This marked the beginning of my journey toward achieving an autonomous energy status.

Soon after, I started experimenting with smaller, self-sustaining energy projects. A significant milestone was the Habitat project in 1982, designed around the concept of energy-autonomous living. These early experiences taught me that technical innovation and personal freedom are deeply interconnected when built on sustainable energy foundations.

Having an autonomous energy supply provided more than just practical self-sufficiency—it also empowered independent thinking. Being energy-autonomous meant controlling my own resources and reducing reliance on external infrastructures, fostering a mindset of freedom and responsibility.

Today, as issues such as the energy demands of blockchain technology and artificial intelligence become more pressing, this approach feels more relevant than ever. The question of sustainable and decentralized energy is not merely a technical or environmental concern—it is a fundamental requirement for personal and societal autonomy.

Energy autonomy means reclaiming control over the essential resources that sustain our lives. It offers a path toward a future shaped not by centralized power structures but by collective responsibility and individual agency.

Autonomy Through a Biodiverse Life

One form of autonomy lies in self-sufficiency through nature: raising animals, growing plants, and generating energy independently. This approach allows a life deeply embedded in natural cycles, fostering a sense of independence from societal structures and enabling a self-determined existence rooted in elemental sustainability.

However, living entirely within nature's cycles offers not only freedom but also significant challenges. It demands continuous engagement with the daily tasks of self-sufficiency—caring for plants, tending to animals, and ensuring a sustainable energy supply. Life becomes fully centered around these processes, leaving little room for external distractions.

This idea has always fascinated me, yet it also evokes a certain unease. The notion of retreating completely into nature comes with an inherent tension. On the one hand, it promises autonomy, self-reliance, and harmony with the environment. On the other hand, I feared that such a life might limit my perspective on society, narrowing my understanding of broader social and cultural issues.

Another critical consideration is that a biodiverse life cannot serve as a universal solution. The possibility of achieving self-sufficiency through nature is unattainable for many, especially those living in urban areas. Dense city environments lack the space, resources, and infrastructure needed for such a lifestyle. In this context, calling for a return to nature can seem like a romanticized escape that ignores the pressing problems faced by urban societies.

Moreover, living in rural isolation can lead to disengagement from social, economic, and environmental challenges in modern society. Those who no longer experience the complexities of urban life firsthand risk underestimating its difficulties. This disconnect can diminish one’s credibility when advocating for solutions to global issues such as climate change, social inequality, and environmental degradation.

Despite these inner conflicts, I see a biodiverse life as a meaningful way to resist the dominance of economic and technological structures. A life in harmony with nature can serve as a counter-model to a globalized world driven by profit and consumption. Yet, the real challenge lies in building bridges between these two worlds: between autonomy through biodiversity and active, creative participation in urban society. Only by integrating both can a sustainable and resilient future be envisioned.

The Intellectual Thought

The necessity of intellectual thinking should remain undisputed, even in the age of blockchain technology and artificial intelligence. Especially in the field of artistic creation, it is indispensable, as art must be more than mere aesthetics or technological advancement. Art is a form of thinking, a critical mirror of societal processes, and a means to actively shape the future.

However, I sometimes have doubts when observing artistic positions in the digital age. Too often, works appear superficial, driven by trends and the pursuit of visibility in social media. Technologies like artificial intelligence and generative algorithms are frequently used as mere tools, without critically examining the underlying mechanisms and power structures they embody.

Yet, there are also encouraging signs: individual artists who are aware of the importance of intellectual autonomy and deeply engage with their material. For them, technology is not just a tool but a subject of intense exploration—with all its social, political, and ecological implications.

This material knowledge—in the digital context, the study of information, code, and data structures—is essential for creating credible, substantial artistic positions. Without a profound understanding of how digital systems function and what consequences they entail, art in the digital era risks being reduced to decorative surfaces and symbolic gestures.

We no longer need beautiful, polished surfaces. No more sleek texts that simulate meaning but conceal emptiness. There are already too many of those. What we need are raw, authentic, and thoughtful positions—works that dare to be unfinished and contradictory.

Art must once again become a space for intellectual freedom, where new ideas emerge, and controversial concepts are explored. A place where technology is not glorified but critically examined. A place where humans are not just consumers but active creators of their technological environment. Only by returning to its intellectual core can art in the digital age regain relevance and exert societal influence.

The Outside Position

A position outside of society can only be achieved through autonomy. This autonomy can take various forms: living in harmony with nature through biodiversity, adopting an energy-independent lifestyle, or consciously choosing to detach from prevailing economic and social systems. What matters most is finding a sustainable and functional way of living that allows individuals to critically observe society from an external perspective, without becoming entirely isolated.

This position is not about escaping society but rather about making deliberate choices and cultivating intellectual independence. Autonomy is not a fixed state but an ongoing process requiring clarity, resilience, and a continuous engagement with the world.

Independent decision-making is essential. The intellect needs a self-sustaining source of information to function and grow. Creative work cannot thrive if bound by restrictive licenses or controlled information flows. True intellectual and artistic creation emerges only where access to knowledge and resources is open and unrestricted.

Licensed content may promote technical innovation, but genuine creativity requires freedom from commercial constraints. Intellectual and artistic work demands independence that cannot be achieved through standardized or monetized content models.

The outsider position enables individuals to question established structures, explore alternative ways of living, and engage in critical discourse without being confined by societal norms. This perspective is more important than ever, especially in a world increasingly shaped by digital networks, global economic systems, and social media, which dictate how we think, work, and communicate.

Choosing to live outside conventional systems provides a clearer view of societal developments and opens space for exploring alternative models. This is not just a personal choice but a politically and culturally significant act. It reflects a commitment to preserving spaces for independent thought, action, and creation, despite growing global control and commercial exploitation.

The outsider position is not an escape but an active form of resistance against cultural and economic homogenization. It offers a way to see the world differently and to develop new forms of living, working, and communicating—beyond licenses, market constraints, and standardized models of existence.

Islands as Workspaces

Since 2005, we have embraced the idea of islands as workspaces for artistic creation. Driven by the desire for autonomous retreats far from the distractions of urban life, I acquired two small houseboats in the Netherlands. These boats were meant to provide artists with a space where they could live and work independently, free from societal constraints and immersed in creative solitude.

However, it soon became clear that such boats were commonly perceived by society as symbols of leisure and luxury. This association conflicted with our original intention. The boats were not status symbols but affordable, mobile workspaces costing only a few thousand euros. Despite this, the public perception of exclusivity persisted, overshadowing their intended purpose.

To counter this misconception, we took a more radical step: acquiring a 40-ton industrial vessel. The ship, 30 meters long and 6 meters wide, had a distinctly utilitarian appearance that dispelled any notion of luxury or recreational use. Its functional design and rugged aesthetic reinforced our intention to create a serious, autonomous workspace for artistic endeavors.

The industrial vessel became a floating artist residency—a unique space dedicated to artistic production, research, and collaboration. Starting in 2010, we established an “Artist in Residence” program across all our boats, attracting artists from diverse disciplines. The program provided them not only with space for creative work but also with a setting physically and symbolically removed from conventional societal frameworks.

The boats evolved into floating islands of thought and creativity. They embodied the concept of mobile studios and autonomous platforms, existing independently of fixed geographical locations. These workspaces offered not just a retreat but also opportunities for deeper engagement with the environment, the elements, and life on the water.

Choosing the water as a workspace was more than a practical decision—it was a conscious move away from rigid structures toward a fluid, flexible way of living and working. The artists participating in our program lived and worked in direct contact with nature and an ever-changing environment, profoundly shaping their creative processes.

These floating studios became symbolic islands of autonomy, opening up a new space between art, nature, and society. They offered the freedom to transcend societal boundaries and explore new forms of artistic expression—free from the expectations of the established art market and beyond the conventions of everyday life.

Autonomous Networks

In the early 1990s, I realized the sculpture *The Electronic Gallery*, an art network based on Fido technology, a Bulletin Board System (BBS). It functioned as a distributed network where digital artworks in the form of images were exchanged among participants. Each night, the network was established through display devices installed on participants' walls. New digital artworks were automatically distributed to users' endpoints and displayed in continuous loops.

This project emerged before the advent of the Internet and embodied the concept of a fully controllable and artistically designed network. Every level of the system—from its technical infrastructure and software to the artistic presentation—was under my direct control. This complete oversight was essential, ensuring the artistic statement of the networked system remained intact.

However, with the rise of the Internet, FidoNet was gradually replaced. While the Internet introduced new possibilities, it also meant losing control over the underlying layers of the network. Unlike FidoNet, where the entire system could be managed autonomously, the Internet's open and globally connected nature deprived artists of full control over infrastructure, data distribution, and artistic presentation. From my perspective, the Internet was unsuitable for serious artistic work because of this inherent lack of control.

In the mid-1990s, I began working on alternative networks, becoming actively involved in developing and maintaining autonomous network systems. Over a decade, I collaborated with an independent Internet provider pioneering wireless LAN technology and XDSL infrastructure on private copper lines. This technical independence allowed us to create an alternative network system, free from the centralized control of major internet providers.

One notable project from this era was the *Data Spindle*, an installation resembling a locker system at a train station, built in the mid-2000s at the Kunsthaus Graz. Instead of storing physical items, it functioned as a space for digital data storage and exchange. Users could anonymously and freely upload and retrieve digital content, transforming the concept of a physical and digital repository into a tangible artistic experience.

To ensure the project’s technical independence, I applied for and was granted a *PI-Space* (Provider-Independent IP address block) from RIPE. This allowed me to operate an autonomous art server center, independent from commercial infrastructure. The data hosted on the art server was self-managed and distributed without relying on major service providers. This decision was not merely technical but a deliberate artistic and political stance toward autonomy in an increasingly monitored and regulated digital world.

For me, autonomous networks are more than technical infrastructures—they are artistic and sociopolitical statements. They create spaces for freedom and experimentation where data, images, and ideas can be exchanged and reinterpreted independently of commercial platforms. In a time when the Internet is dominated by a few powerful corporations, the vision of an independent network system remains an urgent cultural necessity.

Autonomous networks enable us to question existing technical and social structures while exploring new ways of digital communication and artistic production. They provide a platform for rethinking how we create, share, and experience art in a world increasingly controlled by centralized and commercialized internet services.