When I tell people I work with digital development at Østfoldmuseene, I suspect they imagine me quietly scanning old photographs. The reality? My week is usually 30% coding, 30% diplomacy, 30% creative direction, and 10% trying to figure out why the physical doorbell has frozen solid.
This week (Week 2, 2026) was the perfect storm. It wasn’t just about “digital strategy”; it was about the messy, invisible infrastructure that keeps a museum alive.
The Digital Excavation (Monday & Tuesday)
History isn’t just written in books anymore; it’s hidden in rows of data. My week started with a digital excavation: 1,200 rows of raw task data from Microsoft Planner.
To the outside world, this is boring. To me, it’s the organization’s memory. I wrote Python scripts to filter the noise from the signal, hunting for “missing” concerts and forgotten events for our Annual Report. It’s a strange realization: In 2026, if an event isn’t correctly tagged in a database, did it even happen? My job is to ensure the digital footprint matches the physical reality.
The Time-Travel Paradox (Wednesday)
On Wednesday, the hybrid nature of this job peaked. I spent the morning setting up modern UTM tracking codes for an event about Werner Nielsen—Norway’s richest man in the 17th century.
There is a beautiful irony in using advanced algorithmic tracking to sell tickets to a lecture about the 1600s timber trade. We are essentially treating a 300-year-old merchant like a modern influencer. It proves a point I often make: Technology is just a lens. The subject matter is eternal.
The Rebel Alliance (Thursday)
But a digital museum isn’t built in isolation. Thursday was about politics. I realized that our struggle with missing API data from our main vendor wasn’t unique to us. So, I initiated a “User Forum”—gathering 15 other museums to demand better data access.
Call it a “Rebel Alliance.” We are moving from being passive consumers of software to active architects of our own infrastructure. We need to own our data, whether it’s visitor numbers or collection metadata.
The Frozen Reality Check (Friday)
And then, the week ended with the ultimate reality check.
I was deep in a high-level strategic meeting about “ACID-compliant databases” and European funding strategies (Erasmus). We were discussing how to use technology to give old buildings a “voice.”
Suddenly, the doorbell at the museum entrance froze.
I had to stop the high-level coding, run down the stairs, and physically let people in. It was the perfect end to the week. It reminded me that no matter how good our SQL queries are, or how “smart” our strategy is—if the door doesn’t open, none of it matters.
This is the hybrid life. One hand in the server room, one hand on the frozen door handle, and a head full of 17th-century ghosts.
