I’ve walked down paths in a place where technology isn’t just a set of instructions for a computer, but a tool for freedom, a bridge between generations, an act of creative resistance. This place exists; it comes to life in Brussels, at a university, and it’s called FOSDEM: the Free and Open Source Software Developers’ European Meeting. Every year, this event turns Brussels into the beating heart of a quiet revolution, one led by people who believe in a digital world that’s more ethical, sustainable, and sovereign.

Needless to say, it’s open to everyone, techies and non-techies, experts and novices, even the simply curious. And yes, it’s free.
Walking through the crowded halls of ULB, the university hosting the event, you immediately sense something special. This year, I’d especially mention Brussels’ weather: full sun, T-shirts in January (Mother Nature is a geek).

But it’s not just the crowd that strikes you; it’s the unique mix of young hackers with fiery eyes and developers with decades of experience, all united by the same feverish passion. There are people who started coding on a Commodore 64 and others who now write code to save the planet; those who fought for privacy in the ’90s and those who now build alternatives to tech giants. At FOSDEM, age doesn’t matter—what matters is the shared, almost delirious drive to build something different. Together. Because “collaboration” is the magic word that guides us all, and it goes hand in hand with another word even more powerful than air: “freedom.”

But what does “free software” really mean? It’s not just “free of charge.” It’s the freedom to study, modify, and share. It’s the chance to not be held hostage by opaque algorithms or platforms that decide for us. It’s the certainty that behind every line of code, there’s a community working for the common good, not for the profit of a few. At FOSDEM, this philosophy isn’t just theory—it’s daily practice. You see it in the projects presented, in the heated discussions, in the hands raised to offer help. You see it when a newcomer arrives and is welcomed, no matter if the person greeting them has been at the keyboard since Turing’s time. Everyone teaches, everyone learns. We’re all human, all children of Aaron Swartz, brothers and sisters in his manifesto. Knowledge is—and must be—free, available to everyone to make humanity better, not to line the pockets of a few.

But technology today can no longer ignore ethics and sustainability. There was a time when ignorance could be accepted, when it was okay for some not to know or understand. That time is over. If you choose not to ask how the tools you use, the clothes you wear, or the food you eat end up in your hands—if you don’t question whether they’re ethical or sustainable, or if you turn away when you find out they’re not—you’re complicit. It’s clear, simple, and direct: there’s no more room for hesitation. You’ve chosen to be on the wrong side of history. And you can’t say, “Well, it’s technology’s fault.” No, it’s your fault, and your cowardice.

At FOSDEM, these themes—sustainability and ethics—aren’t just slogans; they’re concrete projects. People talk about recycled hardware, low-energy data centers, and software that fights planned obsolescence. They discuss how Europe can (and must) build digital sovereignty, freeing itself from dependence on foreign tech giants and promoting open, transparent solutions that respect human rights. This is the Europe we want: a beacon of freedom and civil rights, so strong that other powers fear its success. That Europe was there, in those cafés, eating buttery waffles and speaking a Babel of languages. A Europe that doesn’t just hope—it acts, brings real solutions, and steps into political debates about sovereignty.

Digital sovereignty isn’t a dream. It’s a necessity. In a world where a few giants control data, infrastructure, and even democracy, Europe has the chance to choose a different path: public, interoperable software, controlled by citizens. At FOSDEM, you see the building blocks of this future: free operating systems, collaborative platforms, privacy tools, and decentralized networks. Each project is a piece of a larger mosaic, a real alternative to the extractive model of digital capitalism.

FOSDEM is, above all, hope. It’s seeing a 16-year-old girl explain how she wants to hack a medical device to make it accessible to everyone, and adults showing her how instead of saying, “Focus on your studies.” It’s hearing a retiree talk about creating a mesh network for his neighborhood and suggesting it be documented so others can replicate it. It’s watching a group of students shout, “Yes, we can!” after presenting an open-source project that could change a community’s future.

This is the generation of visionaries: they don’t wait for permission, they don’t apologize, they build. And they do it with the tools of the past—code, collaboration, ethics—to shape the future.
I didn’t just attend an event; I saw my other possible world. A world where technology serves people, not the other way around. Where innovation doesn’t mean exploitation, but sharing. Where passion isn’t an empty word, but the engine of a peaceful revolution.

And if there’s one thing you learn, between talks and workshops, it’s that this future isn’t somewhere else. It’s here, in the hands of those who code with heart, who share and nurture for everyone. It’s in the smile of someone who, after years of struggle, silent work, and dismissive looks from friends and family, sees their dreams become reality. It’s in the certainty that, together, we can build something better.

Next time someone tells you, “The system can’t change,” to justify their inaction and avoid feeling the yoke of their chosen slavery, think of this article. Come to FOSDEM. And laugh, because they are the past, and change is already happening.