Editor’s note: While you’re reading this, put on the song “One Fine Day” by David Byrne. It’s from the album Byrne made with Brian Eno called Everything That Happens Will Happen Today. I can’t think of a more appropriate title.
For me to understand things, I tend to try to systematize them, layer in context, then try to draw some sort of conclusion. Mobile World Congress this year was a bit different. I’m not quite sure it was a mobile show; mobile was certainly part of it. But AI, apps, automation, business, chips, cloud, data, devices, edge, fiber, geopolitics, IoT, industrial tech, private networks, space, etc…were part of it too. It felt more like an Everything World Congress. And that’s not a criticism. In fact, I think it speaks to the fundamentally important nature of networks of all sorts to creating business value, to creating personal experiences, and to otherwise driving civilization and commerce forward. An expanded aperture is a laudable thing.
I’m not really sure—I suspect it’s because it’s what I sing to my son when I put him to bed and I missed my son after nine nights in Barcelona—but it made me think of a David Byrne song, “One Fine Day”. I think the song is basically about acknowledging problems while retaining hope that there’s a path forward. That said, David Byrne is a complicated guy and I don’t presume to know what he meant, but that’s what I take him to mean. With that, I’ll endeavor to frame Mobile World Congress 2025 by standing on the shoulders of a giant to help me see further.
Saw the wanderin’ eye, inside my heart / Shouts and battle cries, from every part / I can see those tears, every one is true / When the door appears, I’ll go right through
We started cranking up the 5G hype machine in 2018. Cut to 2025 and the cynicism is firmly rooted. But that’s maybe wrong. The quality of networks has improved, their reach has expanded, and the use of them has grown. Did we transition to Standalone 5G on the timeline we originally contemplated? By and large, no, we didn’t. Did we intimately understand the problems faced by carpeted enterprise and heavy industry in a way that let us empower our sales forces to speak the language of the factory floor as quickly as we thought we would? No, we didn’t. But we are now. Forget the sins of the past. The door has appeared. It’s time to go right through.
I stand in liquid light, like everyone / I built my life with rhymes, to carry on / And it gives me hope, to see you there / The things I used to know, that one fine day
I’m a tech junkie—can’t get enough of the stuff. But the best part of Mobile World Congress for me is the analog, the human. Every smart person I know is in that Fira, and if they’re not in that Fira, they’re in that city. And that city, from the physical architecture that defines its look and feel, is designed to foster connections. In that regard, mission accomplished. The analog is better than the digital, but as the digital improves, it will begin to feel more like the analog.
In a small dark room where I will wait / Face to face I find I contemplate / Even though a man is made of clay / Everything can change that one fine day
For journalists, Mobile World Congress is a tough show. We spend a lot of time in small dark rooms (that are often quite god damn hot for reasons that are fully solvable) waiting and thinking, then thinking about waiting, then waiting for a chance to sit down and think. Here’s something I think about a lot: Today is almost always a lot like yesterday and tomorrow will probably be a lot like today. But after that cycle continues long enough, things are completely different. You don’t notice it because you’re looking at what you have to do tomorrow, not what you want to be doing in a decade. We’ve waited, we’ve contemplated, we’ve delivered small wins, we’ve scaled up to multiple small wins, and the flywheel is about to reach critical velocity.
Then before my eyes, is standing still / I beheld it there, a city on a hill / Then a peace of mind, fell over me / In these troubled times, I still can see / We can use the stars, to guide the way / It is not that far, the one fine day
Our industry is in rough shape. Our world is in rough shape. I’m in rough shape. I got home from Barcelona at 11:45 p.m. on March 8, and immediately went to bed. I woke up at 6:15 a.m., reconnected with my wife and son, then put him down for a nap at 1:30 p.m. I went down for a nap too. I woke up at 3:30 p.m. and he woke up shortly after. We had one fine day outside, so we took a walk as family, and our family includes an eight-year-old coonhound called Darla. As we got to our turnaround point, my wife got an unexpected call from her father’s girlfriend. He had had a massive coronary heart attack. She went home, packed a bag and left town to be by her father’s side. She’s still there. In fact, she just called as I sit in a coffee shop writing this. He still hasn’t woken up and the doctors are increasingly concerned about his brain and kidney function. We work so hard to bring clarity to the future, but we live our lives moment to moment, never knowing what comes next.
But I try to be optimistic. Whether that’s misplaced, I don’t know but I don’t think it is. Kindness engenders kindness. Resilience fosters continuity. I can see the city on the hill for myself and my family, and I can see it for our industry and our world. It puts me at peace. There’s too many good people working too hard for things not to ultimately work out. But working things out is often an ugly process until we come through the knothole. Personally and collectively, I think our one fine day is ahead. I don’t know when exactly it will happen but when it does happen, I want to stand there alongside all of you in the liquid light knowing that we’ve done a good job. I have a feeling it’s not that far, that one fine day.
