Skills and knowledge
“How much I can manage, how far I can go and how wide my options are when conditions change.”
Skills and knowledge determine how equipped a person is for practical life and how wide their options are to act when something changes. It is not just about what is written on a CV or how many diplomas someone has. What decides is what we can actually use, where we can find our bearings and how much we can manage through our own efforts.
In our view this dimension covers not just general education, but concrete, usable abilities and qualifications that expand the space in which a person can move and decide. This includes language skills, a driving licence, a firearms licence where it makes sense for the person, entrepreneurial experience, a craft or other practical skill, as well as the ability to navigate the digital environment and handle everyday dealings with authorities and institutions.
It is therefore not just about what a person knows, but above all about what they can do on their own, how far they can get, what environments they can navigate, and what options they have when they need to act. Skills expand what we can handle with our own hands and minds. Qualifications such as a driving licence or firearms licence open types of activities and environments in which we can legally and safely operate.
“How much I can manage, how far I can go and how wide my options are when conditions change.”
That is where the significance of this dimension for resilience lies. It is not about prestige or the number of qualifications. It is about how much room to manoeuvre a person has. A driving licence is not just a card in a wallet, but the possibility to move, change jobs, commute elsewhere or take oneself and others when needed. A foreign language is not just a grade but a key to information, people and opportunities beyond our own language. A practical skill means not always depending on a paid service when something breaks. Entrepreneurial experience means being able not just to look for work but to create it to some degree. A firearms licence matters to some in a specific profession or role — as a qualification to legally and responsibly provide security, not as a universal obligation.
This dimension therefore determines not just what we can do, but above all how many options we have when conditions change. A person with a narrow range of skills tied to one environment, one type of work and one form of operating will hit a wall much sooner when things shift. Conversely, someone with a broader practical toolkit — a language, a driving licence, concrete hands-on skills, the ability to run a business or at least organise part of the work independently — has more ways to deal with the situation.
In everyday life this often goes unnoticed. While things work, it looks as though everyone is managing somehow. Only when something changes — work, health, location, availability of services — does it quickly become clear how broad a foundation each person has. Some people can switch to a different mode, different work, a different way of operating, negotiate elsewhere or sort part of things out by themselves. Others remain dependent on it being best if nothing significant changes.
Skills and knowledge have a direct impact on the sense of security too. When a person knows they have usable abilities and can function in different situations, their inner tension decreases. Not because they think they can handle everything, but because they are not dependent on just one path. This dimension therefore increases independence, mobility and the capacity to respond — in everyday life and in harder periods alike.
Story from practice
“Yesterday I shot live ammunition for the first time. I was looking forward to it, but in the end I was very surprised by how much I can be wrong about myself at my age.
For a long time I had a simple story in my head: I enjoy shooting. I know the feeling from fairground shooting ranges, from the air rifle in the garden — focus, precision, satisfaction of a hit. I took it as a fact about myself. Something that would just be confirmed when it became real.
Reality was different.
The moment I picked up the first weapon and started listening to the safety instructions, an enormous sense of respect came. Unpleasant. Heavy. And with each additional rule it grew stronger. Suddenly I was not thinking about shooting, but about the mistake I could make quickly and easily. Finger off the trigger. Direction of the barrel. Remove the magazine. Check the chamber. Forget nothing. Individually simple things, together a strong internal pressure I had not expected.
When I fired for the first time, none of what I had known came. No joy, no adrenaline. Instead, resistance, a wave of negative emotions and a very concrete realisation: this is a tool with a clear, irreversible consequence. That feeling was surprisingly strong. As if part of me was screaming: I do not want this!
And that contradiction threw me the most. It did not match at all what I thought about myself. For a moment I admitted to myself that perhaps I am not someone who should be doing anything with weapons. That my relationship with shooting was just an illusion built on a safe version of reality. It caught me off guard.
But I continued. I am not in the habit of giving up. I wanted to know whether the strong resistance was final, or just a reaction to the novelty and weight of the situation.
With subsequent weapons things gradually changed. I tried a Glock, a Bren, an AR15, a rimfire rifle. The negative emotions subsided and pure respect remained. It no longer paralysed, but guided. It forced me to slow down, be precise, control every movement. I started to perceive the technique, not just the emotion.
I realised that the beginning was crucial. That strong, unpleasant feeling was not a mistake. It was a corrective that showed me clearly that I was aware of what I was holding.
And precisely because of that I decided to go further. I will get a firearms licence. Not for fun anymore, but as a conscious strengthening of my own resilience in a specific skill — the ability to function under pressure, maintain control and bear responsibility in a situation where mistakes are not forgiven.”