Moving to the UK

On the 4th of December 2005, I moved from Sweden to the UK, starting work at ARM in Cambridge. At the time, I moved from an EU country to an EU country - albeit moving out of Schengen. The implications of this was, for me, a large part of the reason why I ended up in the UK rather than making a lot more money moving to the US.

I think at the time the residency requirement for acquiring British citizenship was four years. But with the Swedish passport being a "stronger" one (giving visa-free access to more countries) than the British one (or at least tied), there was no real benefit for me to seek citizenship. So I don't think I even considered it from the outset.

At the time, residency as an EU citizen gave me the right to vote in local elections, and with parliamentary elections being unaffected by me anyway given the rigged first past the post system, that in itself didn't seem like a reason.

But when I came up towards the 10-year anniversary, having moved in with my future wife and bought a house together, I did start thinking it could make sense after all.

Dark clouds

But in the years leading up to that, a bunch of spineless and/or opportunistic politicians, cheered on by the billionaire-owned media (and a completely declawed BBC afraid to upset either of the aforementioned) desperate to distract the British populace from how they were being plundered, decided that the message to push was that the problems with the country was foreigners existing.

So a series of increases to fees, and addtions of new hurdles (with added fees) followed. Oh, and let's not (ever!) forget Theresa May's Go Home vans and citizens of nowhere speech.

Once they succeeded in convincing the turkeys to vote for brexit, I didn't really feel like spending time and effort to nail myself to moving goal posts on a sinking ship.

After a series of increasingly ridiculous Tory governments tried to push the consequences of their actions onto whoever came after them but found themselves unable to stall any further, the UK finally departed the European Union on the transition from 31 Jan to 1 Feb 2020 (which I spent in Brussels, attending FOSDEM).

At this point the UK still had not figured out what to do with those of us who had arrived here with a (reciprocal) right to live and work. That came a few months later, at which point I had to apply for fewer rights than I had had before. Of course, the solution provided no tangible evidence of the rights we were begrudgingly granted - only a magic "settled status" which was connected to my Swedish passport on computer only. And a website where I could "generate a share code" to hand out to prove my right to exist. This since got bundled into the "e-Visa" omnishambles. And this in a nation with a track record of spending ludicrous amounts of tax money on creating a computer system bad enough to cause at least 13 suicides.

So, to summarise: with regards to considering British citizenship - I wasn't feeling it.

Looking North

We did look at moving (not "moving back", I don't get that narrative unless you've been on a temporary posting, or fled war or natural disasters) to Sweden. But while we both have friends and family there, and while we certainly missed the accessibility of nature there (as well as plumbing that works), they have their own far-right extremist problem, and no sign of a functioning opposition.

Drop it like it's hot

Then weather happened:

• Cambridge taking a new heat record for the UK at 38.7 °C on 25 July 2019.
• Cambridge beating that with 38.9 °C three years later on 19 July 2022.

This helped nudge us to look slightly less far afield. After having suffered through the former, on seeing the forecast for the latter we headed for the hills - or Scotland as it were, taking our two dogs and another one (Loonie) who could do without. This time going up to the Cairngorms for the first time. And, yeah, mountains call out to you all the more loudly after 16.5 years in Cambridge.

And, of course, the plague

COVID also played a part, in more than one way. Obviously, it increased opportunity for remote working (but I was already full-time remote), but the lockdowns also made people go out and walk about more; making use of the many green spaces in Cambridge I had always been surprised were so empty. And I love that! But that made them more crowded for me when I wanted to go for a quiet walk and think.

And then, during the lockdowns, we found an Aberdeen-based DJ on Twitch entertaining people who couldn't go out, and continued once they could. So we suddenly knew some people up in Northern Scotland.

And we had not missed how Scotland strongly rejected brexit, only to be pulled out of the EU by Westminster against its will.

The Scottish Parliament has a lot of devolved powers, and oversees a separate legal system from the English/Welsh and Northern Irish ones, and here we would already qualify to vote for that. So it felt less exclusionary. Plus, medical prescriptions are tax funded, as are university studies. And contrary to the popular narrative, this higher-rate tax payer is very happy with that.

At some point I'll write something up dedicated to how we went about relocating up here, but - we did.

And as we found ourselves settling here I found myself thinking about whether I should do for my 20-year anniversary in the UK what I threw up my hands in disgust at 10 years earlier. And I was now looking at the United Kingdom from a new perspective.

God Save the King(s)

So, I did it. I'll dedicate a future at least as ranty post to the process, but on Friday 16 January 2026, I attended my citizenship ceremony in the Aberdeenshire Council chambers in Aberdeen and became a British citizen.

I'm not giving up my Swedish citizenship for this, so I now owe allegience to not one but two kings: Carl XVI Gustaf and Charles III. (Sweden has had waaay more Caroluses than the UK.)

And I'm not even a monarchist.

Left-to-right: The Lord-Lieutenant of Aberdeenshire, The Provost of Aberdeenshire, Me, Maria, Lady Saltoun